The Prince Read online

  Vickie Knestaut & Danny Knestaut

  The Dragoneer: Book 2

  The Prince

  Copyright © 2018 by Vickie Knestaut & Danny Knestaut

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors' imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

  For Kayla

  It’s hardly an adventure without you.

  Contents

  Acknowledgement

  I. THE PRINCE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  II. THE HIDDEN

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  About the Authors

  Also by Vickie Knestaut & Danny Knestaut

  Acknowledgement

  Special thanks to Michael O’Brien for help and feedback. We appreciate it!

  I

  The Prince

  Chapter 1

  Trysten tied the leather saddle straps around her waist and raised her head to survey the range of mountains to the west. Elevera was restless, her emotions strong. Images of clouds and a dragon’s-eye view of the ground far below flooded Trysten’s mind. The dragon shifted beneath the saddle, her belly still tender from taking arrows in the battle the week before. Her gold wings itched where Galelin had stitched the torn leathery membranes. Despite her healing wounds, she was eager for flight and impatient for the sky.

  “Easy, girl,” Trysten mumbled, her hands knotting the straps that secured her to the saddle. The mountains were gray and motionless on the border between the kingdoms, yet the tickle at the back of her neck grew. A Western horde could sweep down from the pass any minute, but it was the threat from the east that tightened her shoulders the most.

  She tugged the strap at her side while she turned and peered at the empty eastern horizon. The dawn sun washed across the land as if it were spreading its arms wide to suggest that there was nothing here to see, nothing at all. And that made it all the worse.

  Behind her, the hordesmen of Aerona weyr waited on their mounts. Their fists gripped the forward lip of their saddles, ready to tell their dragons with a tug of leather and a kick of the heels that it was time to return to the sky. At the edge of the weyr yard, more than a dozen dragons stood staked to the ground on thick ropes that would be nothing more than a slight inconvenience if any of them decided to leave. They were not prisoners. They had bonded with Elevera, and they stayed because the alpha dragon wished it.

  Too bad Trysten couldn’t say the same for their former riders.

  Borsal stepped out of the weyr, a short stick in his hand. He walked to a cage of doves along the outer wall and nodded to Trysten.

  She nodded back, then made a chopping motion with her hand.

  The cage door snapped open with a pop. Borsal ran the stick vigorously along the rungs of the cage. Startled doves fled through the opening and raced for the sky. Trysten swung her arm around her head once, then pointed to the dole of doves that rose in a flurry and flutter of wings.

  As she gave a gentle hitch to Elevera’s sides and yanked on the lip of the saddle, the dragon was already crouching, then leaping into the air with a mighty shove of her great, golden wings. The village fell away beneath her as Elevera pushed hard to gain altitude and not let the small, nimble doves outpace her.

  Air whooshed behind her as the other dragons followed suit. Trysten could not only hear them, she could sense them as well. She knew that she could look over her shoulder and know exactly which dragon she’d see.

  Soon, the dole leveled off and tried to make a horizontal run from the trailing dragons. Elevera shifted her focus to speed and quickly caught up with the dole and flew past it. As the dole broke to the left, Paege flanked it upon Sone, the new beta, and together they kept the dole moving forward until Trysten ordered the doves turned around and herded back to the village.

  Typically, dole herding was a maneuver performed out over the open hills, far from the village. Today though, Trysten wanted to make an impression. As Elevera surged ahead and blocked the progress of the doves, Trysten issued a series of orders with arm and hand gestures. The horde of dragons and riders circled and drove the doves back to the village just as she had commanded. She wanted the dole kept low to the ground. As they flew over the village, Trysten directed various hordesmen to dive through the dole. Now and then, a dragon snatched a bird from the cloud of frantic doves, but for the most part, the exercise was to practice formation flying, to keep the dole in a tight knot of birds moving from one place to another.

  To Trysten’s delight, villagers gathered and craned their necks back to take in the aerial theatrics. They gestured and pointed as each rider took a turn scattering the doves to see how quickly the remaining hordesmen could herd them back into a ball. Children raced about and collected the stray gray and blue feathers that fell from the sky, as treasured as the first flakes of snow that came in the peaceful season.

  Trysten grinned as she watched the reactions of those below. Fostering this sense of excitement in the villagers had been her intent all along. She wanted them to see the hordesmen and dragons having fun, enjoying themselves. After today’s exercises, Paege should have no difficulty finding recruits to fill the empty saddles.

  As the dole herding continued, the excitement of the crowd changed and shifted in pitch. A man shouted, then more villagers cried out. Trysten laid her left hand upon Elevera’s neck and hitched with her right heel, but the dragon had begun to turn in the air before Trysten completed the command.

  Below, three men raced away from one of the cottages being used to hold prisoners. They ran toward the mountains with several of the villagers in pursuit.

  Trysten pin-wheeled her arm through the air to get everyone’s attention, and Elevera released a roar that licked with fire to complete the job. As the hordesmen turned to her, she signaled for two of them to follow. Immediately, Paege and Rast broke formation to join her. The doves scattered through the hole created in the wall of dragons that had penned them in.

  Trysten, Paege, and Rast swooped down over the heads of the fleeing prisoners. One of the prisoners glanced up as the mid-morning shadows of dragons darkened the ground. He shouted something in the foreign tongue of the Westerners.

  With a sweep of her arm, Trysten signaled for Paege and Rast to swing around and come back at the prisoners. She wanted the dragons to stop the running men from getting any further so that the p
ursuing villagers could catch up.

  Trysten dug her right heel into Elevera’s shoulder. The dragon swept to the left and swung around with Paege and Rast right behind. They glided low over the heather and broken stone that formed the ground around the village.

  The prisoners kept running, not slowing down.

  Behind them, Trysten watched as one of the villagers stopped, drew an arrow from a quiver, and took aim at the prisoners.

  “No!” she shouted. “Stop!” She couldn’t allow the villagers to harm the prisoners. She needed to know more about The Second Horde and their attacks, and the prisoners were her only hope for information. Elevera surged forward on her own, without any input from Trysten beyond a wish to stop the villager.

  An arrow zipped past the prisoner, struck a stone, then skipped off into the heather. As the villager drew a second arrow, Elevera undulated up and over the prisoner, clearing him, but then bringing her body down to block the next arrow.

  The villager immediately lowered his bow as Trysten motioned for him to drop it. She then banked hard and turned her attention back to the prisoners.

  Sone had snatched one of the fleeing men in her claw and now carried him aloft, dangling and struggling not to fall out of his tunic. The other prisoner had flung himself to the ground ahead of Rast’s dragon. He struggled to his feet, but the pursuing guard would have him in a moment.

  The third prisoner, the one Elevera had shielded, continued to race for the mountains.

  Elevera leveled out and skimmed over the ground. She quickly closed the distance between herself and the prisoner. The man didn’t glance back but kept running straight ahead as fast as he could.

  At the last second, Elevera twisted her wings back and gave a tremendous shove at the air that sent her upwards. Her tail lashed out and caught the prisoner square in the back. As she banked away, the last prisoner lay sprawled in the heather. Two villagers raced to apprehend him, but it was clear they could not get to him in time to stop another escape.

  Trysten brought Elevera back around in a tight circle and guided her to the ground while scrambling to untie the straps that held her in the saddle. The moment Elevera’s claws settled among the stones, Trysten jumped from the dragon’s back. The prisoner had pushed himself up to his hands and knees and began to struggle back to his feet. Trysten raced for him, and just as he found his footing, she launched herself and landed on the man’s back, driving him to the ground.

  As she rolled off of him, an elbow snapped into her ribs. She grunted and fell away. Stones dug into her flesh and heather scratched her legs. She shoved herself to her knees as the man staggered to his feet. Blood smeared his face and anger burned in his eyes as he regarded Trysten.

  “Chey eck tassa ,” the man growled, his hands clenched into fists.

  Elevera roared, and flame licked the air behind the man. He turned and backpedaled, then tripped and fell again as the two villagers raced up and grabbed him.

  Trysten leaped to her feet and whirled on the man who shot the arrow.

  “What in the wilds happened here?” she demanded. “Why did you shoot an arrow at that man?”

  The archer blinked. His eyes traveled from Trysten to the prisoner and back. “He’s dangerous. He and his mates overpowered the guards. Knocked them out cold before they made a run for it.”

  “They were running away from the village. They weren’t going to hurt anyone.”

  The archer recoiled. “They already did. They hurt the guards. And if I’m not mistaken, either he or one of his mates killed some of our own, didn’t they? They’re dangerous. We can’t let them—”

  “Enough!” Trysten snapped. “Take them back to the cottage. Put a third guard on duty at both cottages. I don’t want—”

  The prisoner spat at Trysten’s feet. A tooth bounced off a stone. He glowered at Trysten and shouted something that none of them understood.

  “Don’t hurt them again,” she sighed. “I need to be able to speak to them as soon as we figure out how.”

  The archer snorted. “We can’t talk to them any more than we can talk to the goats. They’re animals, they are.”

  “Stop! These men rode dragons in battle. You will not treat them poorly as long as they are in Aerona.”

  “I dare say they wouldn’t return the favor. If they get hold of one of us —”

  “Then do a better job of guarding them!”

  The archer blinked and swallowed. The prisoner shouted something again, then tried to shake off the villagers who pinned his arms behind his back. In return, they wrenched his arms higher until the man grimaced and leaned forward. He seethed through clenched teeth.

  “Fetch Galelin,” Trysten said. “Have him see to their wounds. Again, they are not to be hurt.”

  The archer stared a second longer, then nodded to his companion. Together, with more roughness than Trysten had wanted to see, they hustled the men back toward Aerona, where a group of villagers had gathered to gawk. As the prisoners approached, the villagers parted and gave a wide berth.

  At the edge of the crowd, Tuse, the village overseer, folded his arms over his chest and stared at Trysten. Even at this distance, she could see that the man was none too pleased, and it wasn’t with the guards that he was unhappy. He pointed at her, then pointed at the heart of the village, to where the council chamber sat. He nodded once, then started toward the center of the village himself.

  Trysten took a deep breath. A mild pain grew where the prisoner’s elbow had jabbed her. She turned away from the crowd and pressed lightly at the spot. She would bruise, but her ribs were unbroken. She returned to Elevera, who watched the retreating men with great malice in her eyes. She would have snapped off the prisoner’s head if Trysten hadn’t forbidden it.

  Chapter 2

  The council chamber always sounded more impressive than it was. In reality, it was a large, circular stone building that would house most of the villagers in the event of an attack or disaster. It was what small villages did for a stronghold if they didn’t have perimeter walls. As Trysten studied it and noted how quickly the roof would catch fire under the breath of a Western dragon, she realized she was delaying. She squared her shoulders, then entered the old building.

  At the end of a short hall, Tuse sat at a table nearly identical to the one in her den. He put aside a scroll of parchment and motioned to one of several chairs on the other side of his table. He leaned back and waited as Trysten took a seat.

  “We are lucky no one was killed today,” Tuse said as soon as Trysten sat. “We can’t hold these prisoners indefinitely.”

  Trysten nodded. Her braids shifted against the leather vest she wore over her sweater. “The Prince will take them, I’m sure.”

  Tuse shifted in his seat and sat upright. “What are we to do if he doesn’t?”

  Trysten blinked. “If he doesn’t?”

  “Yes. What if he doesn’t take the prisoners? Or what if he doesn’t come at all? What are we to do then? This can’t go on. These are dangerous men, and we are not equipped to deal with this.”

  Trysten’s chest tightened at the suggestion that the Prince wouldn’t come. Fear and hope collided in her. By the wilds, how wonderful it would be if the King had changed his mind and decided to withdraw his order that Trysten was to step down as Dragoneer and abandon her association with the weyr. She shook her head. She had broken the law—the law that forbade women to be dragoneers even though they were believed to be incapable of bonding with dragons. The King would not let that go.

  “He will come,” Trysten said. She folded her hands in her lap.

  Tuse sighed, then slumped a bit in his chair. He stared at the tabletop for a moment as if consulting some agenda that only he could see.

  “I assume the Prince is traveling by dragon. If that is the case, it’s a four-day trip if he takes his time. It has been a week since you told me he was coming.”

  Trysten swallowed and forced herself not to squirm.

  Tuse stared at her for a
breath longer. “Why did you not tell me when you first heard?”

  “The Prince’s business is with me, not with the village.”

  The overseer lowered his gaze to the table again. He reached out and tapped his fingernail against the solid wood carted in from the forests at the edge of the Wilds decades ago. He nodded. “Yes, traditionally the affairs of the weyr and the affairs of the village are separate, but not when one affects the other. It is not in the weyr that we are holding these prisoners, Trysten.”

  “If I had the room in the weyr, we would keep them there. As it is, even the dragons don’t all fit.”

  “I understand that. What if the Prince doesn’t show up? You hid his arrival—”

  “I did not hide it. I just didn’t—”

  “You didn’t mention it after the courier brought you the letter, then. You didn’t mention it at all until you came back to the village with nineteen dragons that you didn’t leave with, all but two still carrying enemy hordesmen. Today’s incident highlights the danger of the current situation. What if those prisoners had decided to take hostages instead of making a run for the mountains? What if they had secured weapons and turned on the villagers?”

  Trysten sat upright in her chair. “The Prince will come.” The words felt sour as they left her mouth. “He will be here.”

  Tuse stared for a few heartbeats more, then averted his gaze and gave a slight nod. His scalp, visible through his thinning hair, reflected the light of a lantern burning from a hook on the wall.

  “I suppose you’re right.” He looked back up at her. “I can’t imagine the King would allow our transgression to go unanswered.”

  Trysten’s shoulders relaxed a bit. Our transgression. Such a little word made such a big difference.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Trysten said. She leaned back in her chair, let her expression loosen up as if suddenly they were two friends discussing the affairs and gossip of the village. “When the Prince shows up, if he were to see that I was conducting myself as the Dragoneer should, then he might rethink the King’s orders. He might allow me to retain my title.”