Dragon Choir by Benjamin Descovich Read Free Book Online Page B

corner. Some guards had gathered by the lead
wagon and a few others hovered around the door of a busy roadhouse,
snug in a clearing beside the forest.
    Summoning his
courage, he dashed through the moonlight into the shadows of a
large tree overhanging the wagon. He waited, stretching his legs
and listening to the night, but there was nothing. A quick peek
around the tree trunk revealed no one had noticed the escape.
    His stomach
clenched with joy and adrenaline, imagining himself a hero like his
father, vanquishing dragons and taking their treasure. Maybe he
wasn’t a real hero, but things could be set right again. Finding
Father would return everything back to normal, together they would
walk through the gates of Calimska and demand justice. Mother would
sing again and Father would lead new adventures. Elrin could take a
name and get his ink; finally be someone with a guild to call his
own, at last he’d be accepted.
    The shadows
cast by the bright white moon and the warm yellow tavern lamps hid
Elrin as he crept towards the roadhouse. The front door hung open,
ventilating the well-lubricated banter of men finished a long days
labour. Above the group of Jandan soldiers congregating around the
entrance hung a sign painted with a seabird making off with a crab
in its beak. A gull of some kind, just like the ones around the
Lake of Tears back in Calimska.
    To get past
the guards without being noticed, Elrin needed a distraction. He
picked up a pebble and lobbed it into the bushes beside the guards.
One guard looked then returned to his ale and conversation. Elrin
chose a larger stone and aimed it closer to them. The stone arced
high and hit the sign above their heads, bounced off a guard’s
shoulder then dropped into his tankard.
    “ Ash it! Not my bloody drink!”
    The guards
looked straight at the bush, which Elrin hid behind.
    “ That you Minni?” The struck guard squinted into the shadows,
shielding his eyes from the lamp that hung by the door. “Quit
pissing around. Come and have an ale with us before you swallow the
damn sea!”
    After a quick
translation, Elrin dashed off behind the roadhouse to avoid any
deeper scrutiny. Knowing the Jandan language would serve him well
on the coast. His father had taught him many tongues of trade
important to Calimska, though Jandan was his boyhood favourite, it
was so different from the languages west of the range, flavoured by
the exotic empires far across the Salroc Sea. It had come naturally
to him under his father’s tutelage and while Kleith did his best
after his father left, Elrin never trusted the Herder’s
pronunciation of the clipped toneless language. They couldn’t
afford a proper tutor, so Elrin practised on Jandan traders
whenever they came to market. Amongst folk this side of the range
his Calimskan accent would stand out, so he would say as little as
possible, have an ale and let his ears adjust to the local
cadence.
    The back door
was left open and a heavy man with a greasy beard and a filthy
apron lent against the wall beside it, smoking a pipe. When the
cook finished his puff and walked into the darkness to pass water
in the bushes, Elrin crept through the open door and into a small
kitchen.
    It stank of
rendered fat and wood smoke hung in the air. A cast iron stove held
a lonely skillet frying a joint of lamb. His stomach groaned. The
corner of the room was piled with dirty pots, pans and plates.
Beside this, great vats of dishes stagnated amongst floating
islands of lard in a slosh of dirty water. It was enough to put him
off the idea of ordering a meal.
    Elrin pushed
through a swinging door into the taproom. A short crowded bar was
wedged in the near corner and at the far end of the room an
impromptu company of local musicians had coalesced. They played a
fine tune considering the ragged state of their instruments,
singing along in weathered harmony; rough and cheerful. Patrons
crowded together sharing bench seats and resting their ale on
stained timber.