The Caged Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 1) Dan Michaelson (online e reader .TXT) 📖

“There is quite a bit of daylight left. I need to keep moving.”

“Be careful along the road,” I said, as the man walked away. He paused, glancing back at me. “Rumor out of the city is that the Vard have been moving.”

The man frowned. “Do you have much trouble with the Vard?”

“Not usually. We are far enough outside of Berestal, and far enough on the edge of the kingdom, where we don’t have the same protection.”

The man glanced to the sky. “Not too many dragon riders make their way out here, I suppose.”

I grunted, shaking my head. “Not many at all.”

The man looked off into the distance. “A massive wolf, you said?”

“That’s what it looked like.” I motioned behind me, toward the pawprint that I’d seen. “Best be careful, if that’s the case. Wolves don’t generally harass us out here, but if they get hungry…” I shrugged. “It’s been a pretty wet season so far, though it’s finally starting to dry out. Now that it is getting drier, things can move. Not just wolves, but the deer and lopal they hunt.”

“I’ll be careful,” he said.

I just nodded. I glanced over to the farmhouse, thinking of how my mother would chide me if I didn’t offer this traveler some hospitality. I’d rather get my chores done for the day, and would rather not have some stranger imposing on us, but I had been raised better than that.

“If you’d like a hot meal before continuing on your travels, my home isn’t far from here.”

“I appreciate that, but I need to keep moving.”

“Stay safe.”

He glanced back at me as the sun shifted, sending strange shadows covering his face. “You too.”

He walked toward the King’s Road, and moved quickly, before finally disappearing from view.

I shook my head. It was time for me to get back to my work. I looked around again, checking for any more of the wolf prints, but didn’t see anything. As I neared the farm, I decided that perhaps that was for the best. By the time I got back to the house, and started digging another posthole, the day had grown hot. The sun shone down, burning my shoulders. It was slower going now that it was just me, though I couldn’t blame Joran for not returning to help. His family needed him as well.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I glanced up at the sky.

Could there be another storm moving in?

The sky was clear. There wasn’t even a cloud in it. It had been several days since the last rain, and the strange smoke Joran and I had seen. In that time, I’d continued working on the fence, and had very nearly completed my task. Alison had not spoken again of anything that the two of us had talked about that night. As if the events hadn’t mattered. In the last few days, my mother had been a little off, though she hadn’t said anything either. No one had. Without any sign of lightning, I didn’t have an explanation as to the ongoing rumbling, nothing other than the fact that it came with a steadiness. That wasn’t thunder, then. Thunder wouldn’t be a continuous rumbling like I heard now.

It sounded like a stampede.

Was it coming from Berestal?

They seemed to be moving at a steady pace. Now that we were out of the wet season, it wasn’t uncommon for horses to make their way along the King’s Road, though usually travelers out of Berestal waited until the road became a little more hard-packed. It was dangerous to attempt to travel along the road until it had dried out. More than one traveler had gotten stuck.

It didn’t seem to be coming from Berestal. Which meant that it was going toward Berestal. I turned to stare into the distance, but saw nothing.

First the stranger, and now other travelers? The King’s Road was busier than usual.

“What is that?” Alison asked. She came down from the house, carrying a basket of food and a mug of water for me.

“Probably travelers coming from the east.”

“So early in the season?” She frowned, wrinkling her brow as she stared into the distance. “We don’t get travelers this early in the dry season,” she said.

“Not often, but we get them.”

She joined me where I worked along the fence, watching the road. Neither of us said anything, but we could both feel the ground trembling beneath our feet. It was a steadiness that was almost jarring in how it persisted.

I put the shovel down, dusting my hands on my pants. Alison watched me, saying nothing. She set the water and basket down by the fence and we moved to a small rise in the yard where we could both see easier. It didn’t take long before something appeared in the distance. For a moment, I stared, trying to gather what was out there, but began to realize that it was a wagon caravan.

“So many,” Alison breathed out.

I shook my head. “What are they thinking, coming through here like this?” I asked. “Can you imagine with the rain we’ve been having what would happen if one of their wheels were to get stuck?”

“There has to be a dozen wagons,” Alison said. “They wouldn’t have any trouble getting each other out.” As the wagons neared, the lead wagon became clear, painted in stripes of bright maroon and gold and bearing a standard with the face of a dragon surrounded by flames. Alison sucked in a sharp breath. “The king. .

“There’s no way King Leonald has come all the way out to Berestal.”

“Look at the wagon. Look at the standard waving atop it,” she said.

I studied the wagon. There had only been a handful of times when I had seen King Leonald’s colors. Most of the time, it was atop a standard bearer much like the one seated along the lead wagon. Or, I would see soldiers dressed in the king’s colors. We’d never seen a wagon painted entirely in his colors.

“He wouldn’t be riding up front,” I said.

“He’s the king.