Dragon Prince 01 - Dragon Prince Read Online Free Page B

all that the fortress was said to have been carved out by dragons in ages past, Stronghold was remarkably civilized, even beautiful. Andrade knew this to be Milar’s doing. Windows that had once been set with crude, smoky glass were now filled with fine, clear, beveled panes. Floors that had been either bare or awash in frayed carpets now boasted rugs thick enough to sleep on. Carved wood was everywhere, its natural fragrance enhanced by the oils used to keep it shining and protected from the ravages of the climate. Decorations of gold, crystal, and ceramic abounded, the more precious items displayed in glass-fronted cases. Milar enjoyed free run of Zehava’s wealth and was forever receiving merchants eager to sell her even more luxuries; these merchants carried away with them tales of the magnificence of a once comfortless keep. Certainly it would be no hardship for Rohan’s future wife to live here.
    Andrade was engaged in a tactful loss to her sister at chess when shouts outside turned their attention from the game. “What’s all that racket?”
    “Zehava is back with his dragon,” Milar replied excitedly, rising to her feet, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling like a young girl’s.
    “He made short work of the beast. I didn’t expect him back until nightfall.” Andrade joined her twin at the windows.
    “If he drags the thing into the main courtyard like he did last time, the stink will invade the halls for weeks,” Milar complained. “But I don’t see any dragon—or Zehava, either.”
    Stronghold was built in a hollow of the hills, reached by a long tunnel through the cliffs. Riders were emerging from the passage into the outer court, and the gates had been flung open in the wall guarding the main yard. Spotting Chaynal’s dark head and red tunic, Andrade wondered whether Zehava and his dragon were following more slowly. “Let’s go down and greet them,” she said.
    “Highness! Highness!” Milar’s chamberlain accosted them on the stairs, his shrill voice grating on Andrade’s nerves. “Oh, come at once, please, please!”
    “Did the prince take hurt while slaying his dragon?” Milar asked. She hurried her steps a bit but was not overly alarmed. It would have been miraculous if Zehava had escaped without a scratch.
    “I think so, your grace, I—”
    “Andrade!” Chay’s voice bellowed from the foyer below. “Damn it all, find her at once!”
    Milar pushed the chamberlain out of her way and flew down the stairs. Andrade was right behind her. She caught at Chay’s arm while Milar raced outside into the courtyard. “How bad?” she asked tersely.
    “Bad enough.” He would not meet her gaze.
    Andrade sucked in a breath. “Bring him upstairs, then. Gently. Then find Tobin and Rohan.”
    She hurried back to Zehava’s suite and busied herself making the bed ready to receive him. He would die in it, she told herself sadly. Chay was no fool; he had been in battles enough to know a mortal wound when he saw one. But perhaps with careful attention, Zehava might survive. Andrade tried to hope, but when they brought the prince up and placed him on the white silk sheets, she knew Chay was right. She stripped the clothes and makeshift bandages from the big frame, unable to hold back a gasp at the hideous wound in Zehava’s belly. She was barely aware of Tobin beside her, Milar standing silent and stricken at the foot of the bed. She worked furiously with water, clean towels, pain-killing salves, and needles threaded with silk. But she knew it was all in vain.
    “We thought the dragon nearly defeated,” Chay was saying in a hoarse voice. “He’d scored it many times—there was blood everywhere. He came at it for the killing stroke and we thought—but between the teeth that got his horse and the talons that ripped him open—” Chay stopped and there was the sound of liquid being gulped. Andrade hoped the wine was strong. “It was all we could do to beat the dragon away from him. We got him