Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) by James Stevens Read Free Book Online Page A

cleaned one of the larger fish, dropped it into the pot and filled it the rest of the way with the cattail roots. The other fish he placed on a forked stick over the fire to smoke. They would keep for awhile wrapped in the oilcloth when done. He hoped his ankle would look better by morning, and perhaps they’d be on their way again in a few days. For now, a warm fire and a full belly would have to do.
Later that night after the fire had died down, he felt Fulgid slip under the blanket next to him. He reached down and pulled the little dragon closer, and soon the sounds of tiny muffled snores drifted out from under the blanket. The miserable feelings that had overwhelmed him earlier began to slip away as he dozed off. He was unsure of what tomorrow would bring, but at least he wasn’t alone anymore.
 
Chapter 3
The Search Begins
 
 
Tirate’s mood was as black as the armor that lined his chambers. It was nearly a full day since that impudent little runt had run from the Nest with the dragon. Somehow the boy escaped the city and a search of the surrounding area had turned up nothing. In frustration he slammed his fist into the polished surface of his desk and winced as fresh blood oozed through the bandages of his sword arm. The wicked little beast had ripped through the steel gauntlet as easily as if it were paper. He was lucky he still had his hand. Flexing his fingers, he felt the bandages pull against the scabs that formed over the gashes. That boy would pay dearly for this.
He took pride that unlike most knights, he had no scars on his body. It was a testament to his prowess with a sword. Looking up from his desk, he stared at the paintings on the walls depicting his ancestors astride massive black or gray dragons. In each pose their long swords pointed towards an unseen enemy. He grated his teeth. All of them had been linked to a dragon by their twentieth year without exception, a fact he was painfully aware of. Tirate was twenty-seven and had attended every hatch since he was nineteen. He would have been removed from the service as a knight years ago if he hadn’t been the only heir to his uncle’s throne.
He turned his attention back to the maps spread across his desk and studied them. The boy couldn’t have gotten very far on foot. Patrols had been sent to the most likely escape routes to the south, east and west. Anyone matching the description were being held and questioned. He had not sent anyone north towards the mountains yet, it was an unlikely route through treacherous country that offered little chance for escape. Still, that would soon be taken care of. The boy and dragon must be found, or at least the dragon must be found. The boy was of little consequence to his plans.
It didn’t matter that the tender had already linked with the dragon. He knew enough about dragons to know what was going to happen the moment he’d seen its unusual gold color. That dragon would fit his needs perfectly. Years of planning and scheming within the circles of the royal court were finally coming to fruition. All he had to do was to get the beast into his possession.
He rose from his desk and gazed out the window. In the courtyard below he could hear the clack of wooden practice swords and the booming voice of the captain knight bellowing instructions to a new recruit. The captain was a great ox of a man named Boris who moved with surprising speed and agility for his age. He was also unquestionably, the greatest swordsman in the history of Gaul. Tirate watched as Boris pushed the recruit aside, picked up the practice sword and squared off with his opponent. With a quick step he lunged, spun, and deftly knocked the sword away from the other man’s hand. Tirate snorted in disgust.
Most of the Kings Guard worked secretly for Tirate, bought with a little silver and a few promises. A few of the older Guards like Boris were King Erik’s men to the bone and could never be swayed. Their numbers were d windling steadily as he