“But for good reason.” Ronan blew out a breath. He’d done what he could to settle all their fears. His eyes lifted to find Monty flying overhead. The dragon inclined his head slightly before flying higher and disappearing from sight.
Now Ronan could focus his attention on other things. Like the fact that Robusk was missing. He’d had another dream in the hours he’d slept after he and Fiona had spent themselves. The wizard was frail and thinned and pleaded for him to hurry to Merisgale and save the land of Meris from Sleagan. He awakened at dawn, disturbed and troubled.
Monty dipped down again, then landed and kept pace alongside him. “You are scowling. Don’t you feel relieved now?” The dragon asked.
“I do feel better. Thank you.” But Ronan shook his head. “But I have other worries I cannot release. The wizard Robusk spoke to me again last night.”
“At least we know he still lives,” Monty soothed. “He is still the King until he hands the sword to Thestian. No doubt his captor means to keep him alive long enough to get his hands on the sword.”
Ronan frowned. “But if it were Sleagan that captured him, wouldn’t he have taken the sword Robusk carries?”
Ula let her horse fall back to join their conversation. “When a new sword is made, the old one is no longer useful. It is retired in the sword chamber with all the other swords of the King’s past.”
“I’ll bet that chamber is a bit intimidating,” Bryan said.
“It is a library of history.” Ula nodded. “Started by the Dragols when they ruled over Meris.”
“We never ruled,” Monty corrected. “It was man who thought to dictate over these lands. Dragols offered guidance and wisdom. We were revered and respected but we did not rule. To rule is to treat those below you as slaves.” Bryan nodded in agreement.
“Dragols carried swords?” Ronan looked at Monty.
“We were the defenders of Meris,” Monty explained. “There are greater dangers beyond Meris into the lands of Goya and Aloc.”
Ronan suddenly felt very small. Many times he forgot the lands outside of Meris and that there were different kinds of people and beasts than the ones here.
“They were impressive weapons.” Ula leaned forward on her horse, stretching her back with a smile. “Huge strengths of steel, powerful against any who meant to do harm.”
Monty’s voice was sad when he spoke. “That was a long time ago. Most do not care of the Dragols anymore. We are on the brink of extinction. Man will be glad to see our kind fall.”
Ronan frowned. “I have learned since I began this journey that man is a more serious enemy than any of Sleagan’s horde.” Monty nodded his silver head in agreement. “I had not realized that so many were slighted by man. My father said he hated magic and changelings. It never occurred to me that others felt the same hatred and bigotry.”
“Then you’ve received quite an education these past few weeks haven’t you?” Monty’s green eyes met Ronan’s.
“Indeed I have.”
Ronan had been blind. He’d thought of his world as a simple one but the truth was there was more to Meris than his cottage and making weapons. But that had been a life of ignorance and he realized, sitting on the moors staring at the flat horizon, he could never go back to that life.
He was a King’s Guard and a wizard with the power to help others, to ease suffering. He was a man who could speak to those who could make a difference in the world. And maybe they would listen to him. He had met people that had made an impression on him, that would be a part of his life for years to come. No, there was no turning back to the simple life of a blacksmith.
I have a new life now, Ronan thought. He belonged to a tribe of people called Johran. They were
Sighing heavily, he finally accepted those things. The dragon was right. He might not like it but it was who and what he was. He could not hide from it any longer. And he could not continue to allow the fact that one of them might be working against him to change how he treated each of them. By treating them differently he was punishing them all for the actions of only one.
“Wizard,” Monty’s voice interrupted Ronan’s thoughts. “Someone is approaching.” Ronan looked up at the man-sized dragon that had approached him without a sound. Then he leapt to his feet, eyes looking in the direction that the dragon indicated.
“Two days ahead.” Monty told him. “A small band of King’s Guards.”
“Diato,” Ronan murmured with trepidation. “They bring trouble but we’ve come too far. We can’t go back.” He spoke his thoughts aloud, realizing at the swamps Diato had turned his men back and circled around through Merisgale to intercept him.
“What kind of trouble?” Monty asked.
“I suspect Sleagan’s trouble.” Ronan frowned. “The kind that could get ugly. You may want to warn the other Dragols to stay away.”
“Dragols do not fear the swords or magic of man. It is their ignorance that is our greatest fear.” Monty scoffed. “The King’s Sword does affect our lives as well. Sleagan would have us hunted and killed.”
Ronan was beginning to understand that the sword affected the lives of every living thing in Meris. “Very well. Can you take me to them?”
Monty made a noise that clearly reflected his offense. “You mean carry you? Allow you to ride me as you would a horse? Certainly not! If I am seen by the others with a man upon my back I shall never be respected by the Dragols again!”
Ronan shook his head. “What if they could not see me?” Monty tilted his head and watched Ronan turn and head for his horse. He rummaged through his pack until he found the Sledgers Cape.
“What’s wrong?” Keegan stepped away from the campsite toward Ronan.
“Diato,” Ronan answered, slipping the cape over his shoulders so only his head was visible. “Someone has sided with him and worked against me. I’m going to even things up a bit.”
“I’m coming with you.” Keegan drew his sword but Ronan faced him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I need you to stay here. You are the only one who can lead the others to safety if something happens to me. None of the others have the strength that you do, Keegan.” Ronan glanced back at Monty who gave him a nod that the cape would allow an acceptable passage.
“If something happens to me, the dragon will come back for Mikel the Hort. The rest of you will go back to Johran where you will be safe. Wait there for Mikel to return with the sword.
“You trust a thief to bring the sword back to us?” Keegan looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“I trust that the changeling has never been given the chance to do something of honor. This is our chance to make an impression on him that would allow him to make his life better.” Ronan saw the emotion flicker in Keegan’s eyes. “The fact that he was a thief before does not matter now.” Keegan nodded and shoved his sword back into his sheath.
“Take care, Ronan Culley,” Keegan called as Ronan turned and headed back toward the dragon. He watched him climb onto the dragon’s back and then lift the hood. Monty took a running start and then soared into the air. It took them only thirty minutes to reach the campsite across the moor, during which time Ronan told Monty the plan in the event something happened to him. Monty merely inclined his head in agreement with his part of the plan, and then pointed toward the ground.
Diato sat below in silence, staring into the night. Once or twice he looked to the heavens as if he could sense Monty’s movement above but he never rose from his spot. Ronan’s eyes narrowed as one of the guards approached the captain.
“Get me down there. I want to hear what they are saying,” Ronan whispered and Monty swooped down low enough to cause the guards to be filled with fear and for Ronan to slip from his back unseen.
“Damned dragons,” Diato growled as Monty soared back into the air. “I shall be glad to be rid of them when their kind finally does die out. They are nothing but a bother to Merisgale.” He sheathed the sword he’d instinctively drawn.
