Dragon Stones Read Online Free Page A

needling, during the hours they spent together in the tiny cabin below the deck; constant rain and a chill, blustery wind from the north ensured that they stayed indoors for nearly the entire trip.
    The rain at last abated as they entered the choppy grey waters of tiny Red Lake, so named for the color of the stony hills that surrounded it.  Tolaria went to the rail, peering across the whitecaps at Dunshandrin Town.  It looked low and ramshackle, hardly the sort of village where a Lord might dwell.  Behind it, on a particularly ruddy butte, she made out the lines of a sprawling castle.  That would be Lord Dunshandrin's keep, looming over his subjects in an almost volcanic fashion.  She looked forward to spending as little time as possible there, and then returning to her cottage at the Crosswaters.  She might suffer under Klem's jealous glare, but she had every confidence that she would eventually fulfill the headmistress's expectations.
    As they neared the docks, Tolaria found a spot where she could watch without getting in the way of the sailors.  She noticed a carriage with Dunshandrin's device painted on the side waiting on one of the wharfs and guessed, correctly, that the ship would tie up to that pier.  Once the vessel had been secured, Dunshandrin's man appeared and directed her to the wagon, saying it would take her to the castle; then he took his leave, making an oblique statement about other business that needed his attention.
    Feeling vaguely abandoned, Tolaria retrieved her trunk from the cargo hold, struggling it up the ramp, then across the deck, then down the gangplank.  As she dragged it to the wagon, the driver turned to regard her without much interest.  He watched as she attempted to lift the heavy burden into the wagon, but offered neither assistance nor encouragement.  Finally two of the sailors from the ship happened by and helped her.
    In a foul mood now, she settled onto the uncomfortable wooden bench in the back of the cart.  The driver looked back at her and said, in a tone that implied he had been forced to wait much longer than he should have, "Ready?"
    "Yes, thank you."
    He slapped the reins and the horse began walking, jerking them forward with a lurch.  Leaving the pier, the driver turned right onto the rutted, poorly-tended shoreline road.  It had once been paved with cobbles, and some stretches still were; but large sections of the stone had washed away and been replaced with wooden planks, rocks, and gravel, while others consisted of nothing but mud.  Lord Dunshandrin must not think very highly of the traders and merchants who came and went from his town, or he would not present them with such a poorly maintained waterfront.
    The road improved somewhat as the cart left the area of wharfs and warehouses and seedy taverns, the road climbing from the lakeside and up the bluff.  Still, the shops and homes that lined the rough street conveyed a sense that their best days had long since passed, and had been nothing to impress anyway.
    She tried to remember what she had learned about Dunshandrin — the realm, not the man; in keeping with local tradition, he had taken the name of his country at the same time he took the throne.  The lord was identified with the land, as she recalled, their fortunes entwined.  Perhaps that explained the general malaise that seemed to cling to Dunshandrin Town.  She wondered if things were similar in the countryside, if the crops had failed this summer, if the fields had withered.  Landlocked and agricultural, with little in the way of resources to spend on imported grain, a bad year for Dunshandrin's crops spelled a dismal winter for Dunshandrin's people.
    At the top of the hill the road grew rough again; the constant jostling began to give her a headache.  She felt quite sure that when Lord Dunshandrin and his sons ventured out of the castle, they did not travel in a charmless buckboard like this one.  Still, the carriage drew envious glances