The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3) (3 page)

Elly nodded, more tears flowing freely down his face, and he refused the urge to wipe them. “I understand. What is to become of me?”

The old man hugged the boy and then held him at arm’s length again. “You, Elister, will come with us. The Mother has spared your life for a reason, and now your fate lies with the Order.”

Elly nodded. “What is the Order?”

“You . . .” the old man said, his eyes piercing Elly’s soul, “Elister, will become one of the order, the order of the Arnen, servant of the Mother and protector to her and her children.

“It’s a beautiful day for a hunt, Lucina,” Helvie said, looking at her bodyguard and confidant from atop her horse as they sauntered near the Greenfeld, crossing a large grassy plain.

“Aye, my lady, it will be,” Lucina said from atop her heavier mount.

The sun started to rise in the east, and the pair of women rode in front of a long double-column line of soldiers, one score strong, carrying the banner of Baron Vulgrin the Fourth. Helvie wore a utilitarian set of riding leathers over her cloth shirt and pants. She had a small, decorative blade tucked into her belt, with a spear that was sheathed onto the side of her slender steed.

Her bodyguard, Lucina, wore heavy plate mail that gave her a masculine appearance, and her closely cropped blonde hair lent to the illusion. She had a lance secured to the side of her mount, a sword that hung from her belt, and a shield strapped to her back. Compared to the soldiers who accompanied them, she was easily the largest person in the group.

“What’s going on over there?” Helvie asked, motioning to a gathering of people at the forest’s edge.

“I don’t know, my lady, but it looks as if something caught the town people’s attention,” Lucina said, straining to see what the excitement was about.

Helvie spurred her lighter and faster mount, pulling it toward their left, toward the group. “Let’s see what’s up. Race you there!”

Lucina wheeled quickly to follow, shaking her head at her carefree ward she was tasked with protecting. The young lady’s curiosity had gotten her in hot water on more than one occasion, and oftentimes Lucina received a goodly portion of the blame for it as well.

The twenty mounted troops rode in unison as well, with the second lead rider carrying the banner as it flew proudly above them. Their approach did not go unnoticed, and several of the town’s people waved the soldiers over. Pulling their horses up, they saw the remains of a large bull lying on the bloodied ground.

“In the name of Baron Vulgrin the Fourth, what is going on here?” the lead rider said, presenting himself to the people from atop his mount.

“Oh please, Godfrey, let’s dispense with the formalities,” Helvie said, giving the announcer a look of displeasure.

The look was returned in kind, and Godfrey spoke. “Lady Helvie, your father would expect no less than proper greetings within his realm, especially coming from his noble daughter and—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Helvie interrupted, “I get it, but let’s move on already.” Turning to several of the townsfolk who stood nearby, she asked, “What happened here?”

Godfrey rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “That’s what I already asked . . .”

Lucina was content to see that she wasn’t the only one dealing with the baron’s daughter and her fickle temperament. As a Fist of Astor, she was tasked by the master of her order to protect the noble woman at all costs, and the job wasn’t as easy as it first appeared.

“Something’s done and took the Hamills’ bull,” one lady said, bowing in respect to the noble woman she addressed.

“What do you mean by something?” Lucina asked, suspicion in her voice. “And what could have done this butchery?”

The scene was gruesome. The bull indeed looked as if it was butchered with a dull axe or blade. Blood covered the ground around it, and it had been gutted with its bowels strewn around the ground as if a giant child had played in a big bowl of noodles. Large gashes had been inflicted on its flanks, and the skin was torn in several places. One horn was missing, and a leg was turned completely back, broken in at least two places.

“We don’t know,” the same woman replied, giving the holy warrior a curtsy.

“You’re supposed to bow to the Fist and curtsy to the baron’s daughter,” Godfrey began, getting a frown from both women in his group.

Helvie ignored the commander. “Where are the Hamills?”

“They live a league distant, west of here,” the woman said, trying to curtsy this time for the noble woman.

“Who’s in charge here?” Lucina asked, looking over the group of townspeople who were dressed plainly enough, no one looking particularly extravagant.

“That would be me,” an elderly man said, approaching from a few dozen feet away in the direction of the small town.

“Your name?” Lucina asked as the man closed on the group, accompanied by two other men brandishing a knife and an axe.

The old man nodded. “I am Mayor Fergus, and this is my son, Fauke, and our magistrate, Clive. You two must be the baron’s daughter, Helvie Vulcrest, and her courtesan, Fist Lucina Dimars.”

“I am no courtesan,” Lucina said, her voice stern. “I am the protector of Astor and defender of Vulcrest and its nobles. I serve the lady and the Mother.”

“Yes, don’t we all,” the mayor said somewhat sarcastically, giving the impression that the titles and pomp of the realm’s nobles, rulers, and leaders were less than desired out here amongst the simple folk. “No need to take offense, Fist Lucina. It’s just that we’ve heard this all before a dozen times.”

“I should have you taken in front of the baron for talk like that,” Godrey said, turning his mount to face the man as he arrived with his companions.

“Go ahead, Baron Vulgrin was the one who appointed me,” Fergus said, standing now with his arms crossed, taking in the scene. “Mother of Agon, help us,” he said, making the sign of warding at the bull and its remains.

“Agon is the Mother,” Lucina corrected the man.

“Well, even mothers have to have their own mothers, wouldn’t you agree?” Fergus asked.

“Blasphemy,” Lucina said, her hand reaching for her sword.

Fergus nodded in agreement. “That’s what the last Fist of Astor told me as well.”

Sensing that the situation was getting tenser than she would have liked, Helvie interjected to get the attention of her bodyguard and the local mayor. “I do not recall my father appointing you to office.”

“Of course you don’t. It wasn’t your father,” Fergus said matter-of-factly.

“But, you said—” Helvie started.

“No,” Fergus interrupted, “I said Baron Vulgrin appointed me. I didn’t say which Vulgrin.”

“Go on, enough of your games, Mayor Fergus. Which Vulgrin appointed you?” Lucina said, tiring of the man’s antics and finding an unlikely ally in Commander Godfrey, as the leader nodded.

“Your grandfather did,” Fergus said, addressing Helvie.

“He passed a long time ago,” Helvie said. “That would make you . . .”

“Very old. I know, it’s hard to grasp. Nevertheless, your grandfather and I played together as children when he visited our village.”

“Impossible,” Godfrey said, doing the mental calculations. “That would make you over a century old.”

“Correct,” Fergus said, nodding.

The soldiers exchanged looks, indicating that the local mayor may be senile if not flat out crazy. It was left to Helvie to soothe the situation and to focus their conversation where it needed to be at the moment. “Please, Mayor Fergus, tell us what happened here.”

“I don’t know,” Fergus said, looking at his fellow townsfolk. “I just got here. Magistrate Clive, have you any information with regards to the mauling here?”

Clive looked sideways at Fergus, not accustomed to being addressed by his title, and Fergus made a gesture with his head that was more than overt toward the baron’s troops. “Ah, right, Mayor Fergus,” he said, returning the formal gesture for the benefit of the nobles, and at least half of them rolled their eyes but kept silent. “I investigated, and we determined the bull belonged to the Hamills. Once determined, I came to fetch you . . . Ah, I mean I notified Your Highness immediately so you could verify my findings per village protocol.”

“Highness?” Godfrey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Did he just say protocol?” Lucina asked, turning to look at Helvie and Godfrey.

“A simple oversight,” Fergus interjected. “Official will do for now, Magistrate Clive, and by protocol, the good man meant by the law.”

“I know what protocol means,” Lucina said.

“Of course you do. I was explaining for your troops,” Fergus said.

“The troops?” Godfrey said, his voice pitch going high, and obviously he was agitated now.

“I meant my own townspeople,” Fergus corrected, knowing that he said what he meant, but he had tired of the pompous nobles.

Helvie seemed to understand. “Fergus, do you mind if we go to the Hamills’ homestead and ask the master of the house if he knows what happened to his animal?”

The simply dropping of the mayor’s title was enough to gain the man’s respect, if not trust. He had to obey as a subject of her father, but she understood that willful compliance was always better than wayless obedience.

“I don’t see why not. Clive, do you think we are done here?” Fergus asked.

“Yes, Fergy,” Clive said, now dropping all pretenses and acting normally. “We can ready my horses and be there in half an hour.”

“Do you wish to go first and we’ll join you?” Fergus asked, looking to Helvie again.

“It’s all right,” Helvie said. “We can wait for you and Clive to join us. Will you bring anyone else?”

“Just my boy, Fauke.” Fergus nodded to his son, who had the axe. “He’s learning the ropes, so to speak, in case I pass on and the good baron calls for a new leader for Blackwell.”

Blackwell was the name of the town, and the townsfolk nodded in approval and agreement with their leader. It appeared that the Fergus family was popular with the commoners. “We’ll wait for you here,” Helvie said, nodding as the man returned the gesture, turning to return to the village while the townsfolk continued their gossip.

“Do you really want to look into this, my lady?” Lucina asked, watching the men leave. “Wouldn’t it be better to let the local authorities handle it?”

Helvie smiled, repressing a laugh. “So now the sassy town official is a local authority. Is that how you intend to manipulate me?”

“Of course not, my lady. It’s just that this appears to be a simple matter, and you intended to perform your hunt and then return before nightfall,” Lucina said, turning to look at her ward now that the men were a good distance off.

“The Fist is right,” Godfrey chimed in. “Better to let the local magistrate deal with this, and you should enjoy your day. If you’re successful, the buck could be pleasing your father this very evening.”

Helvie craned her neck to watch the town officials as they fetched their horses. “So strange that I haven’t heard of this Fergus fellow before today.”

“My lady,” Godfrey started to explain, treating her as he had done for the last two decades, namely as a child, “your father’s lands are dotted with at least three dozen towns, villages, and settlements. It is to be expected that you would not know every inhabitant of your father’s vast realm.”

Helvie watched the men disappear, and then turned her attention to the doting commander, who was also assigned to her protection. “It’s a barony, Godfrey, and I don’t think even my father thinks of it as vast. Certainly nothing compared to the duchy of Ulatha or the kingdom of Tyniria.”

“The point I was trying to make, my lady, is that there are many officials in your father’s service, and this one just so happens to represent a small settlement that lies far from our capital,” Godfrey said.

“I know,” Helvie responded. “We had to rise well before dawn and ride hard to get out here.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Lucina complained, not happy about getting up when most of the local inns and taverns had yet to close for the night.

The group understood that there was no longer any easy hunting within a half day’s ride of the capital, Vulkor. They had to ride hard and long to have a chance at a good buck this day, and the idea of catching something and returning with it before sundown was little to none. Both Godfrey and Lucina were simply worried that they would have to stay outside the castle this evening, and they always equated that with extra risk, especially in times like this.

Normally, Godfrey would take a half-dozen riders for a simple gallop near her home, but coming way out here near the frontier, he insisted on taking over three times that many. Of course, Lucina went everywhere that Helvie did, ever since she turned twelve years old, and that was nearly a decade ago. Her father had no male heir, and he worried that there would never be a Vulgrin the Fifth. That meant taking extra care of his sole daughter, and his power and influence, especially with the duchy of Ulatha, meant the assignment of a Fist of Astor for her protection.