The King's Dagger: The Dragon Keepers, #1

By Michael Gulven

Dragons Port is a bustling city of commerce and art that rests in the shadow of the Great Cliffs, home to the dragons and their riders. Also living in the Great Cliffs are the dragon keepers, men and women tasked with caring for and raising the hatchlings.

Rick and Wren are two young dragon keepers in training whose primary concerns revolve around the hatchlings under their care. But when they get caught in an uprising in Dragons Port, Rick and Wren are separated from their own protectors. Suddenly they find themselves on the run, having to rely on their limited training and inherent talents to outwit an enemy skilled in the art of hunting both dragons and dragon keepers.

At the same time, the dragon riders must face a new threat from an old enemy. People are being killed, and so the dragon riders must fly to war before more innocents perish.

Underlying it all looms a darker menace, one which everyone, even the dragons, have long since forgotten. But the past will not stay hidden forever as the greatest threat to ever face both humans and dragons begins to awaken once again...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Gulven
• Release date: May 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734053104

Michael Gulven

Michael Gulven, a native of Wisconsin, grew up in various parts of the country with two research scientists as parents. He began reading at a very young age, and became enamored with the world of books. As he grew older he began creating stories of his own. He graduated from Georgia Tech with a degree in Computational Media. During that time he interned in the video game industry, but his true passion has always been creating stories. At first those stories only lived in his mind until they refused to be contained any longer. Thus, he began writing them down. The King’s Dagger marks the beginning of one such story.

Book preview

The King's Dagger

The King's Dagger

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Book One of the Dragon Keepers Saga

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Michael Gulven

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Published by Michael Gulven, 2020

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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THE KING’S DAGGER

First Edition. 2020.

Copyright © 2010 Michael Gulven.

All rights reserved.

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ISBN: 978-1-7340531-0-4

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Written by Michael Gulven.

Cover Design by Jeff Brown.

To my family and friends, for giving me wings with which to fly.

The King's Dagger

Contents

1 - The Lair

2 - The Approaching Storm

3 - The Fall of Dragons Port

4 - Tam

5 - Assassins

6 - Broken Bonds

7 - Pursuit

8 - To Save a Life

9 - Cryptic Messages

10 - Dragon's Eyes

11 - Words That Can Kill

12 - Princess in Peril

13 - The Ship's Hold

14 - A Duty to Protect

15 - Desperate Choices

16 - The Rescue

17 - Parting Ways

18 - The Signet Dagger

19 - Threats Realized

20 - Preparations

21 - The Defense of Terman

22 - Mercenary's Price

23 - In the Dark

24 - The Will of a Princess

25 - Dragon's Fury

26 - The Roar of Reason

27 - Elder Soren's Truth

28 - The Search for Clues

29 - Dragon's Flight

30 - Dragon Keeper's Oath

31 - The Shade's Secret

32 - The Betrayer

33 - Fate's Hand

34 - A Dragon's Rage

35 - The Truth of One's Self

Epilogue

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Chapter 1

The Lair

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Rick smiled happily as his fingers gently traced the ridgeline of the hatchling sleeping quietly beside him. Despite being asleep, Port’s tail curled up appreciatively. Rick dared not move much more than that for fear of waking the other two hatchlings whose heads rested comfortably on his lap. Five feet long from head to tail, the three baby dragons under his care slept soundly in the stone tunnel.

Rick let his own head rest back against the rough hewn rock wall as he peered out through the opening to watch as the morning light swept across the cliff walls outside. The cave entrance was just one of many within the stony mountains known as the Dragon Cliffs. This entrance in particular was over two hundred feet above the ground, giving Rick almost a bird’s eye view of the lands west of the mountains. Being a dragon keeper was hard work, but mornings like this made all of it worthwhile. Nothing could quite equal waking up surrounded by the quiet sounds of sleeping hatchlings.

Wren, Rick’s best friend and a fellow dragon keeper, stirred from her own sleep opposite him and opened her golden eyes to meet his. Dragon keepers always came into their gifts at a young age. The clearest sign of a dragon keeper was their eyes. All dragon keepers bore the eyes of a dragon. The iris turned gold with a hint of red and a vertical slit for a pupil. For Rick, his eyes changed when he was just seven years old. The ensuing five years spent training were difficult, but ultimately fulfilling.

Wren glanced at the scaly spread of her own hatchlings nestled in around her. She grinned at Rick who returned her smile in equal measure. Soon enough, the hatchlings too began to stir as the sunlight spilled through the tunnel entrance and into the lair.

Any big events for today? Wren asked Rick as the hatchlings stretched in waking.

Terra has her first flight with a rider today.

Oh no, who’s the unfortunate rider?

Um, me actually. Rick gave her a nervous look. Why?

Oh, um...well...just make sure your parachute is strapped on tightly.

Is she really that unstable?

Wren just gave him a look of pity.

Parachute tight, got it.

Let’s go get breakfast then, shall we?

Later that morning Rick wished he had chosen to skip breakfast as it threatened to eject itself rather forcibly. It turned out Wren had been understating the problems with Terra. The emerald green drake was definitely not ready for her first manned flight. At nine years old, Terra had grown slightly larger than a warhorse, not counting her wings and tail. Physically she had more than enough strength to keep both her and Rick aloft, but she lacked the confidence to trust in that strength. As Rick clutched the riding harness in a death grip, he did what little he could to try and sooth the frightened drake.

Flight training always took place in a great valley located deep within the Dragon Cliffs. The valley formed a large bowl punched into the otherwise unbroken span of rocky mountains. It was roughly oval in shape and stretched just under a mile at its widest point. Over time, enough dirt had been deposited within the depression to allow for a bed of grass and some shrubbery to grow. But with the impenetrable rock so close to the surface, nothing larger could grow there.

Terra flew frantically from one end to the other. Instead of a steady, controlled flight the giant creature flew faster and faster, fearing she would fall from the sky due to Rick’s added weight. Updrafts and downdrafts along with the occasional pocket of dead air made the flight even more precarious. Rick held on for as long as he could until a sharp turn tossed him off completely.

He fumbled a bit but ultimately managed to open his parachute without incident. One of the older dragons came and snatched the cloth chute out of the air to carry him back up to the ledge. Terra came back and did her best to apologize to Rick for throwing him off. She would not be able to talk for another six years or so, but even so her intentions were clear enough. The young man did his best to soothe her fears and after an extended break she felt up to trying again. The second flight was not much better than the first, again tossing Rick out into the open air. But, after two more attempts, Rick managed to stay on for the entire flight. Terra thanked him silently for his patience before streaking away from the valley in embarrassment.

Rick headed back inside the labyrinth that made up Dragons Rise. His new home had been painstakingly carved into the sheer rock mountains that formed the Dragon Cliffs centuries ago. The rooms and tunnels wound through a mile long stretch at the southernmost end of the mountain range that formed the eastern edge of the charted world, and even more caverns were carved and expanded every year.

Far below it, built within the shadow of the mountains, stood the coastal city of Dragons Port. The only independent city in the world. The city’s military strength came from the dragons who swore to protect it. Having no need to pay for expensive defenses, the city instead exploded with art and various other crafts. Famous painters, sculptors, writers, and inventors flocked to the city to learn. But what gave Dragons Port its true power was the way in which it obtained the world’s dragon keepers.

Any kingdom that found itself with a dragon keeper was asked to send the boy or girl to the city. In exchange, that kingdom could also send one adult who would be considered for training as a dragon rider. A dragon rider was exactly what the name implied, someone who bonded with and rode a dragon. Kings and Queens could lie, Counts and Dukes could betray their people, but there was one universal truth that even children knew to be true. Always trust a dragon rider.

Dragon riders oversaw treaties and helped avoid wars between kingdoms. They brought prestige both to themselves and to the kingdoms they served. Perry was the name of the man who ultimately accompanied Rick to Dragons Port. He was a nice man. After three years training inside Dragons Rise he bonded with a red dragon named Retin. Last Rick heard, the pair had single-handedly stopped a troll incursion into his home kingdom.

The rest of the afternoon Rick spent visiting prospective dragon riders as they began caring for the drakes. Drakes were young adult dragons. Dragons hatched from eggs as hatchlings, wingless lizards who grew to be about eight feet in length. At age four, hatchlings began to grow in their wings. Among the brood of hatchlings that Rick watched over, all three had almost fully grown wings. In another year or two they would be able to fly, an act that signaled they had grown enough to be called drakes. The difference between drake and dragon was more subtle, but no less important. Drakes still retained their more primal nature. Dragons on the other hand became more self-aware. They thought independently and even developed the ability to speak. Dragon rider trainees took care of the drakes as they grew in the hope that one of the drakes would choose them as their rider.

As Rick wandered among the trainees, they eyed him with equal parts respect and fear. Respect because of the dedication he gave to the magnificent creatures, and fear because Rick held the power to send any of them home without a dragon. Rick made sure to keep his voice level as he tried to help any of the adults having trouble by explaining how the wrong feed mixture could cause a drake’s skin to flake, or his eyes to redden. The adults were always quick to adjust to his corrections. To a few, he purposefully made incorrect suggestions and was pleased when they responded with the reasons why such advice was incorrect. He commended them as he left them to their duties.

A loud roar from the ridge indicated the approach of a horseman. Having no other duties to attend to at the moment, Rick sprinted to the cliff face and slid effortlessly down the almost vertical cliff wall hundreds of feet to the bottom. Becoming a dragon keeper had changed more than just Rick’s eyes. His strength, speed, and balance all improved at an accelerated rate as he continued to grow into his dragon keeper gifts. Combined with the years of training he received, Rick could hold his own even against the adults. Of course he needed such advantages to keep up with the powerful creatures he raised.

Rick landed easily on the dirt path and waited for the horseman to reach him. The man reined in his horse, checked Rick’s eyes, and then dismounted. The man handed Rick a piece of parchment. The parchment stated that the bearer was to be allowed to train as a dragon rider. Admitting a prospective dragon rider without an accompanying dragon keeper was uncommon, but it did happen. At first glance the parchment appeared to be an authentic letter of introduction for a prospective dragon rider from Dragons Port. Even the wax seal was nearly perfect. But Rick could tell that the wax had not been sealed by the genuine signet dagger belonging to the king of Dragons Port. Also, the ‘r’ was too loopy to be the king’s handwriting. Clearly this man had paid a great deal for the forgery, but it would take more than that to fool Rick with his enhanced senses.

I see you are to be admitted as a dragon rider, Rick said, giving no hint of what he knew.

That’s right.

Are you willing to work and train for as long it takes to become a rider?

The man smiled. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll be a dragon rider in no time at all.

Rick clenched his fists, crinkling the paper in the process. Arrogance. The emotion was practically poison to drakes and hatchlings. Growing up around such constant negative emotions could leave a drake unable to ever fully mature into a dragon. It was the very reason dragon keepers had the power to send away any of the dragon rider trainees. Such negative emotions hurt the keepers almost as much as it hurt the creatures they cared for so deeply. This man, this worthless waste of flesh, would not be coming one step closer to a dragon unless it wanted to eat him.

You are not worthy of becoming a dragon rider. Please leave, now.

Fury washed across the man’s face. Look here you little brat. I have here a letter of admittance signed by the king himself. You do not have the right to refuse me. Now move it before I cut you down for disobeying the law.

"Two things. One, the letter you have here is a forgery. A very good one, but a forgery nonetheless. Second, even if this had been real, as a dragon keeper I still have the right to turn you away. Now please leave before you make an even bigger fool of yourself."

"Nobody talks to me that way!" The man fumbled a bit as he drew his sword to attack. Rick stood patiently waiting for the man to finish extracting the blade. When the sword finally did slide free, the enraged conman aimed a slashing strike at Rick’s head. The dragon keeper still had on some of his riding plate, which included a layer of metal over the top of his arm. The plate was there to protect Rick should he find himself flung into a cliff wall while trying to remain seated atop an undisciplined drake in flight. He used the armor to intercept the blade which, having been made more for show than for use, shattered upon impact. The man blinked several times as he found himself holding a sword containing only one foot of blade.

I asked you to leave, sir. Now I advise you do so as attacking a dragon keeper without provocation is grounds for immediate incarceration. Rick had been taught to use words like ‘incarceration’ as polite ways to handle just such situations. His favorite word was ‘decapitate’, which was the polite way of saying ‘chop your head off.’ Though how someone could politely remove a person’s head was something Rick had never determined. Unfortunately, the noble came to his senses and rode away on his horse before the dragon keeper could use his favorite word in a sentence.

When Rick judged the man to be far enough away, he turned and leapt his way back up the cliff wall. To anyone observing, it might look as if the young boy simply ran straight up the seemingly smooth wall. But the keeper had gone up and down the cliff enough times to know exactly where all of the bumps and groves were that he could use to get up quickly.

At the top he finally let the disgust show on his face. He hated people like that. If someone like that ever became a dragon rider it could destroy the trust people placed in them. He would never allow something like that to happen, even if it killed him.

It almost had once.

Two years ago, three men managed to sneak in and steal a newborn hatchling. It was only by chance that Rick saw them running off with the helpless creature. In the end he managed to stop them and rescue the hatchling, but it cost him dearly. Rick spent a week recovering from his injuries surrounded by his own brood of hatchlings who refused to leave his side until he healed.

Rick headed to the mess cavern for a late lunch. He nodded to some of the older dragon keepers as he got his food and found a spot to sit near a group of rider trainees. Everyone ate in good cheer. Jokes came easily and more than a few table scraps found their way into the bellies of several overzealous hatchlings. At one point, one of the newer trainees turned to Rick to ask a question.

I hope I’m not being rude, but why is it that neither you nor any of the other dragon keepers have a dragon of your own? It wasn’t an odd question, Rick had heard it before. But it still caused the other trainees to shy away a bit. Rick did his best to thwart it, but the older men and women still seemed afraid that any question a keeper could possibly interpret as rude was grounds for expulsion. The man glanced from side to side then tried to bury his chin in his chest. Sorry, never mind.

Don’t worry, I’m not offended. It’s a fair question. When I first came here I was told I would never become a dragon rider. I’ll admit that at first I was crushed. I thought it wasn’t fair. But eventually I realized there is a very good reason dragon keepers don’t become dragon riders.

What’s that?

Simply put, I could never choose a dragon. Right now I have a brood of three hatchlings. Even if you gave me a million years to decide, I would never be able to choose just one to bond with. I care for all of them far too much to choose. The older keepers all say the same thing and some of them have raised as many as ten hatchlings. How could you choose one out of all that? Rick shook his head. No, dragon keepers don’t bond because we could never choose just one from so many.

Kind of like having children I guess.

The keeper shrugged lightly. Don’t know. I’m too young to have children. There was a roar of laughter from the table and Rick’s cheeks turned a lighter shade of red.

After lunch was sparring. Each of the rider trainees paired off with a dragon and then the duo faced one of the keepers. As part of the training, keepers attempted to attack the dragon while the rider trainees fought them off. It was good practice for everyone. Keepers learned how to attack and how to defend themselves. Prospective dragon riders learned how to protect their dragons. The dragons too would eventually learn to protect their riders. Unfortunately drakes were not developed enough to understand the training, so some of the other dragons came to help.

Dragons varied in size, but the bodies of most tended to be roughly two or three times the size of a warhorse. Only the very best riders could prevent a keeper from reaching the dragon. New rider trainees, who were all adults, always went easy on the younger keepers at first for fear of hurting the children. But, the trainees quickly changed their approach after the first night, which they usually spent nursing their sores. For a few slow learners, it sometimes took a second night to understand that their concerns were misplaced. Rick only managed to land two strikes on the scaly hide of his target. An impressive showing by the opposing trainee. Eventually the rider trainees finished for the day. Rick still had some excited energy left over, and one look told him Wren did too.

Without so much as a nod the two of them charged one another. As they met, Wren went for a sweeping kick that Rick leapt over. He tried to come down on top of her, but she rolled nimbly out of the way. As she rolled, Wren grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at Rick’s face. To some this might be considered a dirty trick, all puns aside, but any dragon keeper knew that defending a hatchling was not about fighting fair, it was about winning. Rick saw this coming and slammed his eyelids closed protectively, throwing a whirling kick in Wren’s general direction to clear the remaining dust from his face. When Rick opened his eyes again, Wren was gone.

A flash of shadow across his face was all the warning he had that Wren intended to do the same thing to him he had tried to do to her earlier. He jumped back hastily to avoid her. As the female dragon keeper landed Rick swung a leg up aiming for her chin. She leaned back a bit to let the attack pass by harmlessly, but didn’t see the follow up kick with the second leg in time to dodge. It caught her neatly under her jaw. The only thing that saved her was a tiny push she gave off the ground as her feet struck the stone floor. It softened the blow enough that all the attack accomplished was to spin her end over end.

Wren landed on two feet, using a hand to support her precarious balance. She rose up and took a small hop backwards as both keepers aimed a kick at the other. Their clash of flesh caused a small shockwave that rustled the stone dust below them. Tactics gave way to lightning fast attacks, each one dodged or intercepted by reflexes honed over years of training.

Finally Rick got a hand through his opponent’s defenses and grabbed Wren’s shirt. He spun in place and threw Wren with everything he had, but Wren reacted too quickly and grabbed his arm as he threw. She spun in midair and used the momentum Rick gave her against him. Rick felt his feet leave the ground and after a quick trip through empty space he landed hard on his back. The brief moment of dizziness as his head hit the rocks was too long for him to prevent Wren from clamping a hand over his throat, a sure sign of total defeat.

Rick gently tapped her arm several times and she let up. There was a general sound of applause from the rider trainees and several other keepers. Rick brushed himself off as Wren did the same. They both headed to dinner with a smile. Rick liked being a dragon keeper, he was happy here.

Unfortunately, such happy times were about to come to an end.

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Chapter 2

The Approaching Storm

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King Brendan Tram peered out over the city of Dragons Port as the sun began to set behind the horizon. While the palace did have a throne room, King Tram preferred to spend most of his time in his second story office in the south wing of the palace. The elevation of the palace above that of the rest of the city spread out around it afforded King Tram a mostly unobstructed view of the city’s immediate vicinity. He watched the city lanterns flickering in their housings as they prepared to cast away the shadows of the coming night. People, horses, and a few carriages passed by one another on the cobblestone streets as they headed for their destinations.

The king wanted, and on days like today needed, to see the people in his city going about their daily lives. Running the only independent city in the world was hard work. The sixty year old king didn’t envy those who had to manage much larger kingdoms, though some kingdoms had fewer people in them than his city. Dragons Port was a city that continued to grow at an explosive rate.

The table behind him stood piled with petitions and requests for land or buildings. Others detailed interdisciplinary feuds like the one between the Storics and the Franels over the history of the sword, specifically whether the first swords ever made had a flat or pointed end. A harmless quibble on its own, but potentially disastrous if such men took the object of their debate to the streets. No doubt it would take a full day of discussion in the forum chamber to stem the tide. Another requested land to build a school specially built for children with elemental crafting. King Tram had rejected that one as he feared it could be used as a way to study elemental crafters without their permission.

Elemental crafting was rare in humans, though children of crafter parents seemed to have a slightly higher chance of inheriting one of their parent’s gifts. Then again, other children would grow into their crafts seemingly at random with no crafting anywhere in their ancestry. There were three kinds of crafters. Earth crafters could temporarily boost their strength to match that of even a dragon. Wind crafters could heighten their ability to perceive the world around them to such an extent that everything appeared to be moving in slow motion. Naturally they became nearly unrivaled as soldiers. Finally fire crafters could manipulate energy in themselves and others and primarily used their gifts to aid in healing injuries. King Tram wished he were a fire crafter and could conjure up the energy to get through the rest of the papers on his desk when all he really wanted to do was go to sleep.

It was one of those days.

But at the moment he only had eyes for a small boy running through the street clutching a letter in his hand. A child courier. The king smiled knowing the child would not spend this night huddled inside an abandoned building trying to make a meal from what little he could steal. A small job, a small victory, but an important one nonetheless. He continued watching until the boy turned a corner and vanished from sight.

Every piece of paper lying on his work table represented the hopes and dreams of people just like that boy. King Tram’s decisions could ensure the peace of his city, or plunge the whole populace into chaos. He rubbed his temples wishing there was someone else to do this, but he didn’t trust anyone else with it.

It wasn’t all bad though. One never got tired of watching a dragon fly over the city, creating a measurable pause in the flow of the people as everyone glanced reverently towards the sky at the thundering sound of the massive creature’s great wings keeping it airborne. Most people had never met a dragon in person. Even catching sight of one outside of Dragons Port was rare, which encouraged a great many tourists to visit if only to catch a glimpse of the mighty beasts as they flew overhead. Smaller still was the number of people who had spoken to one, which led many to debate whether dragons could speak at all. King Tram was counted among the rare few who actually knew what it was like to be lifted aloft on the wings of a dragon. That was an experience one did not forget. Or more accurately, it was an experience that did not leave one unaffected. Being that high up put things starkly into perspective.

Though King Tram oversaw a massive, sprawling city, it represented only a tiny speck of the vast earth which extended well beyond the horizon. Having seen the world from the same perspective as the map hanging on his wall was humbling to say the least.

There was a brief knock at his door before his steward ushered himself in without waiting for a reply. He came bearing a cart with the king’s dinner. King Tram hadn’t realized it before, but he suddenly found he was famished.

Rarik, what would I do without you?

The man bowed graciously as he responded. I imagine you would starve, sire.

Haha, I imagine I would at that. Thanks, old friend.

Rarik simply nodded. Will you be needing anything else before the night is through?

No, I think my desk is cluttered enough as it is.

Very well, sire. Then please excuse me. The steward let himself out, leaving King Tram to wonder after his friend. They both grew up together in this very city. At the time poverty was uncommon, but had been a harsh reality for Rarik and Brendan. One did not take any meal lightly after having spent nights unable to fall asleep due to pangs of hunger. As children the two promised to change the world. Yet as adults they found it was hard enough just to change one city, one tiny speck on the map.

Something was amiss with his friend, but the aging king knew that his equally old friend would deal with it as he always did. Rarik was never one for sharing his troubles with others. One day he would come in sullen and moody, then the next he would return to his old self. King Tram hoped that whatever it was would be resolved soon. He missed his friend.

There was another knock and Rarik ushered himself back into the chamber. Sire, there is a man here to see you.

At this time of day? Why it’s practically night.

He was most insistent.

Well check him for weapons and let him in. One could never be too careful.

Yes sire. Rarik retreated outside and soon led another man into the king’s presence. Arlo Palent to see you, sire.

Thank you, Rarik. The man nodded before retreating and closing the door behind him. King Tram turned to regard the new man with all the regal bearing he could muster. Mr. Palent, what is so urgent that you felt it necessary to interrupt my dinner?

The man wrung his hands together nervously around a piece of paper. Sire, it...it’s good to m-meet you, he muttered. I ap-pologize for interrupting your m-meal, sire. B-But I thought it im-imper-imperative that you see this. Um...sire. The man tried to pass the crumpled paper to the king but dropped it in his unsteady hands. Sorry! He quickly picked it up and this time succeeded in his actions. The king took the paper and studied it closely. It turned out to be a shipping manifest or, more accurately, hand copied segments from multiple shipping manifests. All of them showed shipments of corn flowing into the city.

I do not understand. Why was this so important that it could not wait?

Um...sire. If you will look, the s-size and types of the containers are...are not consistent with c-corn.

King Tram regarded the paper a second time. Indeed the one foot square metal containers did not match with what he knew to be standard shipping practices for corn. I see. So what does it mean?

Sire, they are not shipping corn. The king waited for the man to continue speaking, eventually realizing it would not happen without some help.

"So what is being shipped? The man glanced around nervously, then reached into his coat and extracted a small piece of folded paper. He handed it to the king who opened it up carefully. What King Tram found wrapped inside brought a menacing edge to his gaze which he directed at the other man. I assume you know what this is?"

Yes sire. It is dragonsbane. Dragonsbane, literally the killer of dragons. A simple plant that proved extremely harmful to dragons. A dragon didn’t even need to ingest it. Just having it applied to their scaly skin would put any dragon into a coma or kill them outright if enough was applied. At least it was harmless to humans, and even the dragon keepers seemed immune to its taint.

And can I also assume you know the penalty for possession of it within my city?

Ten years mandatory prison sentence. But prison time or not, I felt it necessary to make you aware of the danger. Strangely the man seemed calmer now that he was being faced with possibly spending ten years rotting in a cell. I got that flower from one of the corn shipments listed on that sheet. King Tram glanced back at the sheet with an alarming sense of urgency.

But there’s enough here to... to wipe out the entire lair, was the unspoken conclusion. Arlo Palent said nothing. I see. You were right to be insistent. This cannot wait. Do you know where the shipments ended up?

No sire. It was only by chance that I noticed the first shipment on that list. At first I had only my suspicions, but today I finally managed to confirm those suspicions.

The king looked up sharply. Meaning there could be more shipments that arrived before this?

I do not know, sire. The manifests seemed to disappear several days after each of the shipments arrived. So it is possible.

Keepers preserve us, the king swore silently. He took a deep breath before speaking again. I must thank you for bringing this to my attention. Is there some reward you would ask of me for this information?

The man shook his head. It’s kind of personal, but please think of this as me returning a favor. The king nodded without replying. His eyes flashed briefly to the stack of papers adorning his work desk. They seemed so innocent, so quiet. Yet one paper just like those had at some point crossed his desk. That paper had affected this man’s life so profoundly that he was willing to risk a mandatory prison sentence to bring word of this to the king. King Tram probably wouldn’t even remember the order if the informant reminded him of it. But now that order had resulted in a chance to stop something that could irreparably damage the mighty dragons who protected the city built in the shadow of their cliffs.

I thank you then. If you will excuse me, I must see to this immediately.

Of course, I can let myself out.

Send in my steward on your way out.

Yes sire.

The man retreated as King Tram turned to stare back out into the well lit streets. With any luck he could deal with this before it could threaten the dragons. The people could continue on with their lives in the sense of peace and safety that the city prided itself on. If he was lucky, by morning his biggest concern would be scheduling a day long debate in the forum building over the history of swords.

Unfortunately, King Tram’s luck had run dry.

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Rarik pulled his hood farther forward as he stumbled across the wharf. He had always hated the sea. The salt air burned his eyes and fouled his sense of smell. But it was important if one wanted to hide several other kinds of smells. The setting sun threw bands of red and gold across the water. The light reflected up onto the wooden buildings perched upon the docks.

Fortunately the light rebounded off the water meaning Rarik was not the