The Dragons of Argonath by Christopher Rowley Read Free Book Online Page B

today."
    "Off chasing wolves?" said Tomas Birch.
    The Pawlers frowned and shook their heads.
    "The Borgan pack sometimes roams this far south," said Farmer Haleham.
    "We've not heard from them in years," protested Pigget.
    "There's a pack in the Ersoi," said Ham Pawler, "but we've not had trouble with them in many a long year either. This is new, and I don't think it's wolves. They'd never take the trouble to kill so many."
    "Are trolls that avid?" said Bernarbo.
    "Who can say?" replied Haleham. "Who has studied the creatures?"
    "Not me, that's for sure," said Trader Joffi.
    "Not an occasion for mirth, Trader," murmured Pigget.
    "By no means, Farmer, by no means."
    "Come," Pigget was decisive, as he generally was. "There's no help for it, even with our two prodigies celebrating their return, we shall have to rouse ourselves. We must look into this at once. I will fetch my hounds. Birch, will you bring yours?"
    Birch nodded and set his ale pot down.
    "Call the constable," Pigget directed Benarbo. "We should send word down to Brennans tonight. Let the sheriff know and get out the alarm across the hills."
    "I'll send my boy Lenott, he has a fine horse."
    "My apologies, Dragoneer Relkin, I hate to leave at this point when there's still some dancing to be done, but this matter does sound rather serious. I'm sure you would agree."
    Farmer Pigget set down his glass and left the inn.
    In ones and twos the others soon left as well, and Relkin was finally set free to take his mug, refill it, and slip back into the big inner courtyard, where the dragons had dined. They were still sitting there in a happy circle, drinking from a keg of mild ale. From the sound of it they were gossiping. Relkin smiled fondly at the sight. Bazil was now the acknowledged champion of the legions, and he was overdue some company with his kin and old friends. Bazil and he had been through some hard times together. Relkin hoped this celebration was a taste of the sort of life they would eventually live. Just a few more years, and they'd be free.
    Relkin quietly climbed the outdoor steps that lead up to the first-floor gallery. Out in the street was the roar of the party, down below in the kitchens and saloon room there was further noise, but up here it was cool and peaceful.
    Relkin scratched his face, stretched his leg muscles. It was a moment for reflection. Here in the old village there was the illusion of safety in a normal world. Here was everything that he'd left behind when he joined the legions. But Relkin knew too well that the illusion rested on the strength of the Imperial Legions. And he also knew that he and Baz didn't belong here anymore, not really. They were battle-hardened veterans, indeed they were heroes. For some reason this thought didn't mean as much as he might have expected. You could be a hero and still have a stomachache. He was still Relkin of Quosh, still just an orphan boy with no one in the world except that big dragon over there. He was still the same person he'd always been.
    Or was he? He felt a little shiver of unease. Since the last days of Mirchaz, since that strange and terrifying experience as the anointed agent of the Mind Mass, he had had to face the thought that perhaps he wasn't who he thought he was. Something had stirred within him that he didn't understand, and it might lead him to places far from anywhere he wanted to be.
    One day he'd tried to will a strand of hay to move by his thought alone. Of course, nothing had happened. He had no magic powers. Only… right at the end, when he was about to give it up, he thought he saw the blade of straw give a shiver and twitch.
    The wind, of course, it was just the wind. Except there was no wind that day.
    He felt that shivery cold feeling again. That way lay the path to sorcery, and everything he'd seen about sorcery had shown him that it was dangerous and corrupting and led men to become most foul and hateful. One would start off doing only good. Being just and kind to the