The Silent Dragon: Children of The Dragon Nimbus #1 Read Online Free Page A

seven . . .
    His soft-soled shoe hit something slimy and slid forward. Darville flailed for balance, throwing himself sideways to grab at the banister. His other foot lost its grip.
    No traction. No heft to his shoes to break through the slime.
    Years of training in the arts of war had kept him fit, with an unusually acute sense of balance. He twisted so that his left knee took the brunt of his fall.
    The slime on the step was deep. His long legs spread in an ungainly split, throwing his balance backward.
    His head hit the step above him with an audible crack.
    Pain shot from his nape, straight through to his eyes.
    The Coraurlia bounced down the remaining steps, thumping loudly in the sudden stillness.
    Blindingly white stars flashed before his eyes as darkness crowded him from the sides.
    “Your Grace!” Fred crouched beside him, cradling his throbbing head in callused hands.
    “I’ll live,” the king grunted. He rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head. A lump rose rapidly beneath his fingers.
    “Um, Fred, don’t tell the queen.”
    “Not worth my hide to
not
tell her. She’ll find out, she always does, and then rip us both to shreds with her tongue.” Already he examined the stairs with both eyes and fingers.
    “I’ll tell her, so she’ll leave you alone. Later.”
    Fred raised his eyebrows at that. Or was he questioning something he’d found on the stairs. He lifted his fingertips to his nose. “Stale fruit. Amazon oil. Careless of a servant to spill some and not clean it up properly.”
    “Palace servants are too well trained to leave a spill. All of them have been with my family for generations.” The king sat up gingerly, noting that his ribs felt bruised but not broken. He kicked his knee straight, banishing the worst of the kink. He spotted the slick tread beside his right shoulder quite easily from this perspective.
    If he hadn’t been in such a damned hurry . . .
    “Was someone counting on you running down these stairs, not watching where you put your big feet?” Fred asked with the familiarity of someone who’d served his king for a very long time.
    “I think we need to find that out. Looks to me like the spill is even all across the stair, not an unintended slop from a serving tray. And who would be carrying Amazon oil into the family wing? It’s edible but not very tasty. We use it for keeping our swords rust-free, not dressing fresh greens.” He rubbed his brow, trying to hide the trembling in his hands and the fear he knew must show through his eyes.
    “Other uses for it, Your Grace. But not many in this part of the palace that is dominated by your wife and daughters.” Fred sounded as shaky as Darville felt.
    “Investigate, Fred. You’re good at that. We need to know who plays dangerous games that could easily mean my broken neck. I’ve got to get to the meeting.” Slowly, he eased upward, using the banister to hold him. He glared at the dangerous tread wondering, figuring the timing, after servants came up and down, before his wife and daughters came down for the day. Still thinking, still wondering who had the knowledge of when to stage this “accident,” he stretched cautiously, assessing a wealth of bruises.
    By the time Darville and Fred stood beside each other at the bottom, the king knew he could move without betraying injury. He glared down at the Coraurlia where it had landed a-tilt against the bottom stair.
    Fred bent to pick it up. Darville stayed his action with a hand on his arm. “It will burn anyone not blessed by the dragons to wear the damn thing.” Fred should know that.
    Fred nodded. “Your Grace, I merely though to save you the discomfort of bending over.” His face flushed.
    “Thank you, my friend. But this is something only I can do.” Leaning heavily on Fred’s shoulder, Darville bent his knees to retrieve his crown, careful not to dip his head. He felt as if it might fall off.
Stargods!
He needed a drink.
    Then he stood staring at the