The Truth About Dragons: Dragon Warriors, #1

By April Swanson

Meet the Dragon Warriors, the brave heroes who will dedicate their lives to keeping you safe. There's just one thing they're not telling you ... 

 

In the heart of the forest, the reclusive Dragon Warriors reside in their dark, dilapidated castle, operating outside royal instruction and protecting the realm from dragons, monsters and other unpleasantries. 

 

Ramon Subramani, the queen's charming Chief of Swords, enjoys a comfortable life behind the palace walls. When Her Majesty sends him to snoop on the Dragon Warriors, he's willing to put up with hostility and mediocre meals in order to impress the queen. 

 

But Ramon soon suspects the Warriors are hiding something, and they do not give up their secrets easily. To find the answers he's looking for, Ramon will have to confront uncomfortable truths from his past … and risk revealing some secrets of his own. 

 

THE TRUTH ABOUT DRAGONS is the first book in the Dragon Warriors series, perfect for fantasy fans who like mystery, magic and slow-burn romance.

 

The series is complete, and contains five books.

• Language: English
• Publisher: April Swanson
• Release date: Apr 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393095231

April Swanson

April Swanson writes fantasy novels with slow-burn romance, mystery and magic. She loves flawed characters, messy relationships, difficult decisions, and things that sparkle. You can sign up for her newsletter at aprilswanson.com

Book preview

—CHAPTER ONE—

The Captain's Mercy

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Alison Maccrae had never really wanted to be captain of the royal guard, but here she was, in the inner circle of the king and queen of Jerran, with an entire army at her command. Her promotion had resulted in a pay rise, a private office, frequent meetings with the royal family, and a complete severance of all friendships she’d had with the soldiers.

Captain Maccrae was stationed at the palace of Firefall, which sat atop a hill overlooking the capital city. The people were packed in tight in the city, jostling for space, and scuffles and brawls frequently broke out. For this reason, soldiers of the royal guard were always milling around, ready to break up the latest kerfuffle. Even though it was no longer her duty, the captain still liked to patrol the city on her own, breathing in the pungent air, eavesdropping on passing conversations, and keeping an eye out for suspicious behaviour.

It was a drizzly night when the captain heard sounds of a commotion coming from Bakers’ Square. She followed the shouts and jeers and clangs of metal, and found a crowd of people yelling encouragement to a broad, muscled man fighting in the middle of the square. His opponent fought with daggers instead of a sword, marking him as a foreigner, likely from the South. The foreigner’s clothes were tattered, his face was unshaven, and even from a distance the captain could smell that he hadn’t washed in a very long time.

Despite being worse for wear, the foreigner fought well, landing quick strikes and nimbly dodging the mighty blows from the Jerran’s sword. He bore no injuries, whereas the Jerran had a cut on his arm and cheek. But as much as the captain admired the foreigner’s skill, she still pushed her way through the circle of onlookers and yelled, Stop, in the name of Their Majesties!

Neither man paid her any notice and they carried on with their fight. The captain drew her sword and put herself between the two men.

Desist immediately, she barked. I am the captain of the royal guard. You will stop fighting or face punishment.

The Jerran grunted and reluctantly lowered his sword.

I’m dreadfully sorry, captain, said the foreigner, dropping his hands to his side. I would hate to incur the wrath of the noble royal guard. He then hiccuped, and the captain noticed he was drunk.

Be off with you, she told the Jerrans, and the crowd grumpily dispersed. You, she said to the foreigner, what’s your name? On close inspection she realised he was barely a man—nineteen years old at most. He had brown skin, black hair and rich brown eyes. She noticed he was wearing five gold rings on his fingers.

My name is Ramon Subramani. The young man hiccuped again, then put his knuckles to his mouth as if he were about to be sick.

You better not muck up my boots, warned the captain.

To her surprise, the man laughed. Don’t worry, dear captain, I’m in full command of my— His eyes glazed, and then he threw up everywhere.

Come on, son, said the captain. Let’s get you cleaned up.

She led the foreigner up the hill to the glittering palace of Firefall, where she called for servants and got him washed and dressed in fresh clothes. Then she let him sleep, and returned to the spacious new quarters she’d been granted since her promotion to Captain. Her thoughts stayed with the southerner sleeping next door, and she wondered why he was this far north, and scrapping around in the mud.

***

When Ramon Subramani woke up, he had no idea where he was. However, the shock was eased by the sumptuous nature of his surroundings. He was also pleased to find a bell cord hanging by the side of his bed. He pulled it, and moments later a servant entered the room.

How may I help you, sir?

In many ways, I imagine, said Ramon. You can begin by telling me where I am.

You’re in the palace of Firefall, sir.

"Firefall? Goodness, even I’ve never been in the company of royalty."

You were brought here by Captain Maccrae, said the servant. I must inform her you are awake.

Ramon splashed a little water on his face while he waited for the captain to arrive. A soft white towel had been left by the basin. He breathed in the flowery scent; it smelled like a bouquet of roses. There were roses engraved around the basin, too. He realised that his bedcovers were also embroidered with red and pink roses. And on the table—a vase full of yellow roses.

Goodness, Ramon said to himself.

The door opened and Captain Maccrae entered. She was young for a captain, not yet forty years old, and Ramon noticed that her movements lacked the confidence of people who’d held power for many years.

Tell me, said Ramon, why I’m in a room surrounded by roses?

The rose is the sigil of House Leviathet, the royal family, said the captain.

They certainly like to smear themselves over everything.

Do you feel better? the captain asked.

I’ll feel better once I get my hands on a razor. Ramon gingerly touched his cheeks, and winced to find so much hair growing there. I’m afraid I look quite the fright.

I’m not concerned about what you look like, son. I want to know who you are and what you were doing brawling in the centre of Ipsal.

I told you my name—Ramon Subramani—and I was brawling because I got into a disagreement with a chap about something silly. I believe most fights begin the same way.

Where are you from?

And here Ramon paused.

Don’t lie to me, the captain warned. I’m guessing you’ve burned a lot of bridges and you’ve not got many options left. I could offer you a new life, but so long as you tell me the truth.

And what new life would that be? Ramon said, rather impressed that the captain had been so accurate in her assessment of him.

You’re a talented fighter. If you were prepared to ditch your daggers and take up the sword, there might be a place for you here in the guard.

Life as a Jerran soldier ... now there’s an idea. What’s the pay like?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, said the captain. First, I want to know your background.

Very well, said Ramon. I was born in Karkarus. It’s an island in the South.

I know it, though I’ve never been. Why did you leave?

I got bored, said Ramon.

I told you not to lie to me.

Captain, I’ll tell you that I had no desire to stay in Karkarus. If you want more from me then I’ll thank you for your hospitality and take my leave.

Are you in trouble? the captain asked.

You could say so, said Ramon.

What kind of trouble?

Nothing that would endanger the king and queen, he replied.

I hope not, said the captain. Those rings on your fingers—do they belong to you?

Dear captain, I am no thief.

They’re pure gold.

Yes.

If you didn’t steal them, you must be noble-born.

So what if I am? said Ramon. Would that prohibit me from joining your army?

No, said the captain, we have many soldiers from high-ranking families. In truth, most of the noble-born soldiers had been sent to the guard because they couldn’t be trusted with the family coffers.

Well then, said Ramon, there’s no need to dwell on the matter. Now you must uphold your end of the deal—tell me about all the perks I could enjoy as a soldier.

You’d receive a decent wage—though not enough to buy gold rings—and you’d be stationed in quarters here at Firefall. A soldier’s life is not as miserable as you might imagine; in fact, some aspects are quite luxurious. The food is especially good. Their Majesties understand that if people are going to risk their lives for the realm, they must be treated well.

Good food and a warm bed? Sounds promising. But what of the downsides?

You must be prepared to die for Jerran, said the captain.

Jerran is at peace, yes?

For now, but Kerraven always poses a threat—

Kerraven has a tenth the power of Jerran! Ramon cried. Surely no one here is afraid of your dull neighbours?

The threat of war never fully dies, the captain said sternly. All it takes is one rotten egg on the throne and we’ve got ourselves an invasion.

Very well, I must lay my life on the line, said Ramon. What else?

The work is hard. You must train every day. The Chief of Swords is not an easy man to please.

You mean you don’t train the soldiers yourself?

No, the captain said. My time is mostly spent in meetings with the councillors, and preparing for all possible threats the realm might face.

You miss your old post, Ramon observed.

I miss being in daily contact with my soldiers, yes. So, what do you say to becoming one of them?

Ramon looked around the richly-decorated room. Captain, I think I might enjoy myself here.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, she said. First you’ve got to prove to me you’re worthy of the role, and then the king and queen will need to approve your appointment. They may not want a Karkassian fighting for them. You’ll have to prove you’re special.

That shouldn’t be too difficult, said Ramon. When do I begin?

***

Ramon’s self-confidence was well-placed, and he won not only the captain’s favour but that of King Romero and Queen Ferrera. The soldiers of the royal guard were slower to warm to him—he was a foreigner after all—but as soon as they saw how capable he was with his daggers and the sword, they accepted him into their circle. Though, even after proving his worth, Ramon never made a single friend in the army. They were acquaintances only.

Captain Maccrae continued to keep a watch over him, and unknown to the other soldiers, she frequently invited him to her quarters for private dinners. The young Karkassian intrigued her, and amused her with his charm, and over the years they developed a relationship that wasn’t quite a friendship, but it was stronger than any bond previously shared between captain and soldier. Yet, despite their increased closeness, Ramon never revealed why he had left Karkarus, nor did he ever fully explain why she’d found him in such a dishevelled state on that rainy night in Ipsal.

Being a soldier had never been a dream of Ramon’s, and he trained each day in the belief that Jerran would not go to war in his lifetime. As the years progressed with no hint of conflict, Ramon relaxed more and more. King Romero passed and Queen Ferrera followed not long after, and their daughter Estrella took the throne. None of this mattered much to Ramon, who didn’t really care who ruled Jerran. All he cared about was getting through the day’s work and then relaxing with a bottle of wine and a good book.

When the Chief of Swords was struck down by flu and failed to recover, it was Ramon who was promoted to the role, despite him being an outsider and with only ten years of experience. Some of the other soldiers grumbled, complaining that Captain Maccrae had always favoured the Karkassian, but most of the army welcomed the appointment. Ramon was a fine chap, they said, and he’d make a good Chief.

Ramon’s promotion commanded a higher wage, which meant finer wine, and his own private quarters with a balcony overlooking the Green Sea. There were meetings too—meetings with the queen’s councillors. And it was in these meetings that Ramon met Councillor Lynette Allard, who was to become the only friend he’d ever make during his time at the palace.

Lynette Allard was a tall, thin woman with pale skin and straight black hair that was always perfectly parted down the centre of her head. Her voice was high and sharp and whenever she spoke, you always got the feeling she was disappointed with you. Ramon liked her very much.

Not long after his promotion to Chief of Swords, Lynette invited Ramon to meet her family. He accepted at once—the Allards were one of the most prestigious families in Jerran, and Ramon felt most at home among cultured, sophisticated folk.

The Allard family home did not disappoint. Situated on the cliffs along the eastern coast of Jerran, the Allard mansion was built from white stone that glinted in the sun. Lynette’s mother and father greeted them at the door (no kisses or hugs were exchanged) and they ate lemon cakes in the garden glass house, which had its own fountain and little winding river.

How is the new queen settling? Lord Allard asked his daughter. You are close to her now, aren’t you?

Very close, replied Lynette. Her Majesty is adapting well to her new responsibilities.

And when will you become Chief Councillor? enquired Lady Allard.

That is unknown, Mother. Chief Colquhoun must die before he can be replaced.

And how old is he?

I believe the chief still has many years left in him.

Pity, said Lady Allard. Still, you are young enough yet. Her attentions turned to Ramon. Lynette says you are from Karkarus. How intriguing. What brought you to Jerran?

I heard the people were far more civilised in the North, my lady.

And who are your family?

We Subramanis are nowhere near as esteemed as the Allards, my lady. But tell me, do you know what these delightful blue flowers are? Unfortunately at Firefall we get nothing but roses.

Lady Allard indulged Ramon, but throughout the afternoon she kept slipping in questions about his family. On the return journey Lynette apologised for her mother’s behaviour.

She only wants to make sure her daughter isn’t associating with riff-raff, said Ramon.

I’m quite capable of making that judgement myself, Lynette replied with a sniff.

***

Ramon’s service at Firefall was largely uneventful. He wined and dined with Lynette most evenings, read lots of novels, and kept his skills sharp with the blade. He taught the soldiers, preparing them for a war that would hopefully never arrive, and he encouraged them when they complained that they did nothing but sort out minor squabbles in the city.

Far better than being chopped in half, Ramon said.

As time wore on, Ramon got better at forgetting where he’d come from. He got better at forgetting Karkarus. He began to relax, confident that no one from home would ever find him. But that all changed one day, fifteen years after the captain had dragged him out of the mud, when the Prince of Kerraven brought his new bride to the Jerran court.

Prince Edmund had an older brother, Alfred, so it was unlikely that this pair would ever rule Kerraven. Nevertheless, the finest guest suite was prepared, and a couple of vintage wines were fished out from the cellar. As Chief of Swords, Ramon was invited to the throne room for the welcoming of the prince and princess. As the doors opened, Ramon almost gasped aloud as his eyes fell upon the dark-haired woman by Prince Edmund’s side. It was none other than his cousin, Astrid. Ramon snapped his eyes to a point on the far wall, not daring to look anywhere in Astrid’s direction lest she recognise him. He tried to blend in with the councillors and servants and pots of roses that joined him in the throne room, and now he was grateful he’d been put near the back, not meriting a front-line position near Queen Estrella.

As the queen exchanged awkward pleasantries with the Kerraven royals, Ramon prayed that Astrid’s homeland wouldn’t crop up in the conversation. Did Estrella know that her Chief of Swords was also from Karkarus? His palms were slick with sweat, and each second seemed to last an age. But neither he nor Karkarus was mentioned, and Ramon escaped the throne room without the princess having noticed him. For the remainder of Astrid’s stay he spent as much time as possible in his quarters, and he breathed a long sigh of relief when the prince and princess returned to Kerraven.

But his relief was short-lived, for two weeks later a letter was delivered to his quarters.

For you, sir, said the messenger. The girl bowed low and offered the letter without looking at Ramon. This was the first time she’d ever delivered a letter to the Chief of Swords.

Ramon stared at the letter as if it were covered in poisonous snakes. Eventually the girl coughed, and Ramon took the letter from her hand. He didn’t say thank you.

It sat on his dresser for ten minutes. At first he told himself he would never open it—what good could come of it?—but then the urge to look overcame him.