The Last Dragon: Book Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Princess Elizabeth

I marched down the gangplank, a princess in the middle of being abducted, ahead of the four soldiers to stand facing twenty others. None displayed weapons but didn’t need to. The officer who held the sword to the captain’s belly walked behind his last man until he reached us.

He gave a curt nod to a soldier who shouted orders, and I was surrounded by soldiers on every side. At another order, they all stepped ahead together, forcing me to skip to keep from being trampled from those behind. They were packed around me, front and back, side-to-side. I had no option but move with them, although not one laid a hand on me.

We marched through the dark streets, and while their feet struck the pavestones in perfect unison, I was a princess and refused to allow my feet to match pace, although the natural thing was to fall into step with them. Whenever I found myself in step, I skipped again. It was the only manner of fighting them I could think of.

For a fleeting thought, I decided to call out for help to any of the people of Vin we passed, demanding help if required, and telling them what was happening, so all in the city would know. But a glance behind me revealed candles and oil lamps were relighted in windows after we passed by. Ahead, as the sound of our approach warned people, lights were extinguished.

The people of Vin already had an idea of what was happening, and they wanted no part of it.

We marched up the hillside and along a wide avenue until we turned upward again, this time with a stone mansion our destination. It was not a castle or palace. For me, castles are built defensively, and palaces for grandeur. The building was three stories tall, made of brown rock, and had probably been the residence of a wealthy merchant, or a family of them.

A pair of guards were on either side of the door, another pair at either corner in small guardhouses that were made of unpainted wood and out of place. There were other guards marching from corner to corner, the two meeting at the same place each time, but each watched the other’s back as they performed their duties. There would be more of the same on either side and at the rear.

Whoever was inside had close to twenty guards to protect him, all day and all night. That made him or her as important as any king or queen. At least they thought so. The soldiers forced me ahead, right past the outer guards and to the front entrance.

Inside were more guards, four of them, standing in the four corners of what had once been a reception hall. Now there waited a thin, old man seated behind an enormous desk. His head was down as he examined the top of a stack of papers, and his white hair brushed back still revealed a bald spot.

When I had been maneuvered to the front of the desk by guards who were none too gentle, he sighed and lifted his head until his cold gaze fell on me. He said, “Princess Elizabeth of Dire?”

“I am.” Thankfully, my voice remained firm without a trace of tremor.

“There are people in Dagger who wish to speak with you.”

“Provide their names, and when I reach there, I will consider meeting with them.”

He closed his eyes as if that action would shut my mouth. It seemed to work. When all was quiet, he opened them again. “We will take you there.”

“I have transportation.”

“We will take you, and that ends the discussion.” His head lowered again, dismissing me.

However, that enraged me. I said, “Sir, I will not be treated like that without recourse. I will promise you a painful death.”

He lifted the hand holding a pen and waved me off with a flick of his wrist, never once looking up at me again. The guards to either side roughly grasped my upper arms and nearly lifted me off my feet, as they half-carried me past the desk to a hallway. Doors lined each side, and at the third, I was shoved inside.

The closing of the heavy door echoed inside the large room with brown colored stone walls, floor, and ceiling. Three tiny windows were too high to see out, but fresh air flowed inside. There was not a chair, bed, or any furniture. No carpets. Nothing but bare walls.

My first task was to stalk around the room looking for anything that could be used as a weapon, or way out. Of course, there was nothing of the sort, but I had to try. The latch on the door was closed, the windows too small and too high up, and the walls stone.

Lady Grace would hear of my abduction but what could she or the captain of the Gallant do? It seemed that my best path to follow was to sit and wait. I went to the far corner where anyone entering would have to cross the room to reach me and sat on the bare floor. Eventually, I raised my knees and allowed my chin to rest on them. I closed my eyes.

The rattle of a key in the lock brought me awake. The door swung open slowly as if expecting me to attack. Instead, I waited, my heart pounding.

He was dressed in tan leather leggings, heavy boots, and a tan tunic that hung to the floor. A darker brown scarf wrapped around his neck and head, which concealed the lower part of his face. Above the scarf, he was darker than most from Kondor, his face wider.

He motioned for me to approach. I remained sitting.

He crossed the room in a few quick steps and grabbed a handful of my hair. He turned and marched back to the door with me scrambling behind on my hands and knees.

The man let go and faced me again. He silently motioned for me to stand. Fearing the consequences, I did.

He smiled without humor. Without a single word, he’d established who was in charge, and that there would be immediate and hurtful responses if I didn’t obey. He brushed my hair from his fingers and let the strands he’d pulled from my head fall to the floor between us.

He said in a gruff voice, “You and I will leave here together. You may walk, or I will drag you.”

“Do you know who I am?”

He drew in a breath and answered, “You are a fat paycheck for me in Dagger as long as you live. I can deliver you healthy as you are, or barely drawing a few last breaths. They don’t care if you have had every hair yanked from your head, if you have any teeth, and if you have five or ten broken bones.”

“I’ll pay you more than them,” I said.

He shook his head. “If I accept your offer I will never work again—if I manage to survive.”

“So, you have morals,” my voice was as cold as his eyes.

He motioned down the hallway, the opposite way I’d entered. Head up, back straight, I turned and walked. The hallway was longer than I remembered and turned to the right at the end. It came to a halt where a door stood closed. Since my escort didn’t tell me any differently, I reached for the latch and opened it.

Outside, the strong morning sun almost blinded me. A pair of runty horses awaited. Without speaking, he walked to the nearest and mounted. I went to the other. He had trained me well in the few minutes we’d been acquainted.

A narrow alleyway took us from the majestic home to the street outside, where two wagons rumbled along stone streets. A few people walked along the edges, and a squad of blue-clad soldiers marched in unison, similar to the one that had taken me, prisoner. I looked twice to be sure none of the faces were familiar. However, I had no idea of what I’d do if they were.

However, the few on the street were the exceptions. If those people were removed, there would be an empty main street in the middle of the morning where there should be dozens or even hundreds of people, along with wagons, horses, and bystanders. We turned away from the harbor and rode up a slight rise, drawing the attention of nobody. We didn’t hide, ride the shadows, or move quickly.

When in Dire, my appearance drew appreciative looks from men of all ages, and I’d grown used to it. Now their eyes avoided me. Behind that avoidance was fear.

While this city had not gone the way of Trager fully, it was on its way. Why would a council of rulers wish for it to happen? They had to know and understand the consequences from other cities and kingdoms. Why did they wish to destroy a city from the inside?

While still in Vin, there was the vague hope Damon and Kendra would appear around the next corner and rescue me. Kendra might even have her dragon attack the man who held me captive. If so, I’d encourage her to tell the dragon to eat him. No, that was silly. Either her or Damon would put an arrow into his heart before the dragon could do that.

I watched every corner, every tree that could hide a person, and hoped. In preparation, I moved my feet back in the stirrups to be ready to kick free and dive to the street so my friends would have a clear shot.

They didn’t appear.

We continued riding beside each other until we reached the edge of Vin and followed a dirt road along the river out of the city. There were a few walkers and riders on wagons. Nobody rode horses but us, and we drew attention from that fact because only those with money could afford horses. Here and there were pullouts along the dirt road where one wagon could pull aside and allow one laden with crops to continue to the city. A few lackluster waves between wagon drivers told me all I needed. The drivers were uncaring and tired. Maybe scared.

If two wagons of the same sort were in Dire and passed each other, the drivers would shout friendly insults, ask of the news of the other’s family, and how the market was where they would sell their goods. It was a way to exchange a maximum of information in a minimum amount of time.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To Dagger, right where you wanted.”

He rode beside me. I had no doubt he rode the better horse, the one that could run faster and longer. He was also the better rider. Any attempt to run wouldn’t end well for me.

However, he was too self-important, too sure of himself. All the thousands of hours I’d spent with the Weapon-Master training as hard as if I was entering my father’s army, were not wasted. While I could use a bow better than Kendra, and not as well as Damon, I was better than most soldiers, as was my swordsmanship, and my hand to hand fighting.

It was too early in the trip to use my skills, but his belief that he was a better fighter would be his downfall. His arrogance gave me the edge I needed. If he had brought even four guards, he would probably deliver me to Dagger as intended.

Without those guards, he would sleep or rest, turn his back, lull himself into a stupor, or perhaps we would find an inn that served strong ale or wine. My time would come.

I continued to act the part of a confused princess who didn’t know which edge of a kitchen knife was sharp.