Hidden Dragons

Dragon Knights

Hidden Dragons

by

Bianca D’Arc

Love flourishes when two knights
unexpectedly find the woman of their dreams…

Sir Robert finds a beautiful maiden sobbing by
a small waterfall. She proves to be a very special woman who can
communicate with dragons. She lives alone in the forest, on the
edge of a village Robert and his fighting partner, Bear, have been
sent to investigate. When she invites them to shelter from the rain
in her barn, they accept, using her place as a vantage point for
their surveillance of the town below.

Both knights are drawn to the fair maiden.
Could she be the one to share their lives? Their dragon partners
certainly think so.

When they discover a treasonous plot in the
village, they must act quickly. Will they be in time to stop the
enemy from gaining a strategic foothold in their land? And will
they be able to protect the woman who has become precious to them,
even while the battle rages?

And most important, when the dust settles, can
they convince her to stay in the Lair with
them...forever?

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter10

Epilogue

Other Books

About the Author

Dedication

This one is for the fans who have
been with me from the beginning. The first
Dragon Knights
book came out in
2006. It was the first book I ever had published and it started
something that has become much more than I ever expected. It
started a whole new career for me—a girl who’d already had four or
five previous occupations.

I’ve made so many good friends through my
writing. Other writers, and especially a few readers who have
become valued friends.

Many thanks especially to Peggy McChesney for
her continued support and friendship. Sometimes we all need a word
of encouragement, and Peggy has been there to offer that modicum of
sage advice and positive pep talk for me from time to time. It is
greatly appreciated, my friend!

And, as always to my family. I think, no matter
how old you are, if you had a good experience with your parents,
you will always miss them when they’re gone. I owe many, many
thanks to my mother, who encouraged my career change back in 2005
and never doubted me—especially when I doubted myself.

This book is a work of fiction. The names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be
construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
actual events, locale or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given
away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your
own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

Copyright © 2015
Bianca D’Arc

Cover Art by Angela Waters

Smashwords Edition January 2015

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book
may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles and reviews.

Chapter One

Isabelle went where she always did when things
in the village got too rough for her. She wept quietly by the
falls, about a quarter mile down the river from the outer boundary
of the small village of Halley’s Well.

It was so hard being all alone in the world.
Since her mother had died, there was no one to dry her tears or
tell her she had value beyond two hands that could work as hard as
any others. Only her mother had made her feel special. And loved.
And her mother had never told her she was the next best thing to
worthless. Her mother had never belittled her for the way she
thought or the things she could do that were just a little out of
the ordinary.

Now that mama was gone, there was no protection
for her against the world’s hateful ways. No buffer between her and
the mean people in the village who didn’t like her for whatever
reason—or worse—feared her.

There were even whispers going around that she
was a witch, and in this small border village, that could prove
very dangerous indeed. Isabelle didn’t quite fear for her life…yet.
But the threat was there.

That’s why normally, she did her best to
remember to keep her head down and not draw attention to herself.
She didn’t want anyone thinking too long about her and her
differences. Despite the fact that she and her mother had settled
on the outskirts of the village more than ten winters ago, they
were still considered outsiders. It wouldn’t do to remind everyone
in the village just how different she was from them.

Luckily, while her mother had been taller than
most of the men in the village and light-haired, while everyone
else had dark complexions, Isabelle was only a little above average
height for a woman. Her skin was three shades lighter than the
villagers, but her mama had always claimed that was because they
had come from the colder regions where the sun didn’t shine as much
as down here, in Draconia.

Mama had never let it be known among the
villagers that they were not native Draconians. That would have
been going a step too far. But Isabelle was pretty sure at least
some of the natives—the smarter ones—had guessed their origins were
not of this land. What little Mama had told Isabelle about her
ancestry was wreathed in mystery, but she knew for certain her papa
had been a warrior of great renown in the snowy region she
remembered only vaguely from her childhood.

Ever since papa’s death, she and her mother had
been on the move. They had traveled steadily southward until they
came to the border with Draconia, and crossed into the land of
dragons. Mama had felt safer here. Eventually, they found Halley’s
Well and settled on the outskirts of the village.

For the first few months, Mama had been nervous
and watching almost constantly for the arrival of strangers in the
village. But they had never come, and in time, Mama had relaxed her
vigilance somewhat. They had lived here in relative peace for a
long time before illness struck like a dagger, killing her mother
and half the village in a fortnight.

There was nothing Isabelle could do but carry
on. She had buried her beloved mother and lived a half-life filled
with grief and sorrow for a long time. This lonely river bank had
become her favorite place to cry, which she did a lot at
first.

Nowadays, the weeping was more under control,
but as she had recovered from her shock at the loss of her mother,
so had the village slowly recovered from the great loss it had also
suffered. The people were back to their usual suspicion and
distrust now, and Isabelle’s life was getting harder to live every
day.

She often contemplated leaving. She could go on
the road as her mother had. But Mama was buried here and where
could Isabelle go, really? She had no notion of what lay any
farther than the heartiest villager could ride in a day. After
that, the world was almost a complete mystery to her.

Oh, she had heard the usual stories of
Castleton and the Lairs that were spaced all through the country.
She had even seen a dragon or two fly over from time to time as
they patrolled the border. But all those stories seemed like
fairytales to a girl who hadn’t known anything but small village
life and traveling through nearly deserted country. The idea of a
city—where many, many people lived together in great stone houses
and even castles—was hard to imagine.

Life was just so unfair. If Mama were here, she
would have known what to do. Mama was always so decisive and full
of good advice. She also gave great hugs, and she was the one
person in the entire world that Isabelle knew loved her, with all
her faults and foibles. Mama loved her just the way she was. Nobody
else had ever cared for her—with the exception of Papa, perhaps,
though he had died so long ago, it was hard to remember him at
all.

“
What makes you weep so, mistress?”
A gentle, deep voice shocked Isabelle out of her misery.

Sniffling and wiping her eyes with sharp
movements, she spun to find a man watching her. Not just a man. A
knight, if the dragon standing behind him was anything to go
by.

Sweet Mother of All! There was a dragon
standing not ten yards from her and she hadn’t heard a whisper of
his approach.

Isabelle bowed her head in respect. “I’m sorry,
Sir. I will leave you to refresh yourself.” For what other reason
would a dragon and knight come to ground but to take a break from
their journey and perhaps drink from the river?

She made to move past him, but the knight
reached out and took her hand, making her pause. She looked up at
him and found only kindness in his eyes. Beautiful blue eyes so
very unlike the muddy brown of the villagers’ condemning, dark
gazes.

“
Please stay, milady. We were about
to enjoy our evening meal before we continue on night patrol. It’s
always easier to eat while there is still daylight to see by.” His
eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “It would be nice to
have someone to talk to other than Sir Growls-a-lot over
there.”

The dragon snorted and little tendrils of smoke
wafted up from his nostrils as if he was amused. Isabelle stared at
the dragon. He was amazing in every way. His scales sparkled in a
lovely shade of dark greenish mixed with bronze that shimmered as
he moved.

But dragons usually patrolled in pairs—or so
the stories said. Isabelle looked around, wondering if another
dragon lurked in the shadows on the other side of the small
clearing.

“
Surely you can converse with your
partner?” she asked uncertainly, not sure if she should stay, but
tempted beyond all reason to do whatever the handsome knight asked
of her.

The knight laughed at her statement and let go
of her hand. “Bear? That tree over there talks more than Sir
Bernard the Quiet.” Even the dragon chuckled again at this
statement. “Please, milady, spare me another silent meal with my
grumpy fighting partner. We have fruit bread and even some sweets
to share, right Growly?” He looked back at the dragon, who bounced
his head up and down as if he were answering his knight’s
question.

Isabelle was enchanted. She had never been so
close to a dragon—or a knight, for that matter. She probably
shouldn’t, but she decided to stay.

“
Why do you call him that?”
Isabelle asked, blurting out the question before she could stop
herself.

“
Because he can’t pronounce my real
name,”
came an amused, dry, rumbly voice
in her mind.

It felt warm to hear it. Comforting in a way
she hadn’t felt since Mama had died. Only her mother had been able
to speak mind-to-mind with Isabelle in all her life, and Mama’s
voice was light and musical, very unlike the earthy rumble of the
dragon.

She looked into the dragon’s eyes, using the
skill she hadn’t practiced since her mother’s death.

“
Forgive me, sir. I didn’t know
dragons communicated in this way. I have never met one of your kind
before.”

The dragon’s head reared back as if in
surprise, but he quickly recovered, zooming in to stare at her
intently with his crystalline, hazel-green eyes. He blinked at her,
looking her over intensely, but she didn’t mind his perusal. He
seemed nice. So unlike the villagers who stared at her in hatred or
fear. This dragon seemed intrigued, and almost…hopeful?