The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga Read Online Free

After
only a brief hesitation, Amroth rose with much ceremony and took
the platform. He addressed the crowd, “Fellow lords and ladies! I
welcome your cheers, but I do not deserve them. Without the
gallantry of my fine companies, I surely could not have achieved my
victories these past days. These thieves, these hoodlums, these
Quodivar, have arms that rival our own and viciousness far
surpassing mere bandits. I believe their ambitions lie beyond
simply raiding our traders. In fact it would not surprise me if
they seek no less than the utter domination of Lodia itself!”
    Gasps filled the room. Only when the clamor
began to die itself down did Amroth press on, “Take a look around
this grand ballroom. Gaze upon its walls, lined with tapestries and
paintings passed down through generations of Lodians. I myself am
fortunate enough to have six of my own works on display here. It
humbles me to have my paintings in such company. In between
missions I have labored hard on my art, so that future generations
may remember me for more than just bloodshed. Into each, including
my favorite,” he pointed at a portrait of Azuluu seated at his
throne, “I have striven to include the deepest detail, the utmost
intricacy, and the fullness of every brushstroke. Into these
paintings I have poured my soul, and I will fight long and hard to
protect them from brutes like the Quodivar. But know that I would
sacrifice all these paintings to the fire if, in so doing, it
brought peace to Lodia. The security of this nation means
everything to me. This country is truly great. Its people are truly
great. And I shall never, while breath is in me, allow Lodia to
fall!”
    Iren yawned. Although Amroth’s words
enamored the rest of the audience, Iren just found the exaggerated
rhetoric annoying. It was all a bunch of nonsense; the captain
didn’t deserve the attention he was getting for it. What this party
needed wasn’t more boring speeches but something truly spectacular,
something the attendees would never forget. He glanced around,
seeking inspiration. There were any number of pies and gravy boats
that he could toss into the crowd, but those wouldn’t have nearly
enough effect.
    Then he spied it. One of the chandeliers
hung directly above the platform on which Amroth stood. Tracing
with his eye, Iren found the single heavy rope that held the
chandelier in place. To light its candles, the fixture needed to be
lowered to the floor, so the rope connected from the chandelier via
a pulley system to a metal hook on the wall. Ordinarily, a dozen
strong men or more would work together to lower the light and then
raise it again. Snagging a carving knife off the nearest table,
Iren stealthily made his way across the room.
    If Amroth noticed Iren’s actions, he didn’t
show it. He dropped his volume and adopted a more somber tone,
drawing in the audience with his tension. “Much like our great
king,” he gestured to Azuluu, who smiled stupidly, “I cannot win
this fight alone. Our latest battle with the Quodivar taught me
much. I rode out not a fortnight past with a company of two hundred
men to squelch these vermin. The Quodivar, however, do not fight
like soldiers. Indeed, they do not fight like men at all. They
enter battle only when they know they can catch their opponents
unawares, and if the situation turns against them, they flee like
cockroaches. Many fine men who rode with me did not reenter these
castle gates. We cannot fight this enemy as soldiers. However, I
have a plan that will rid us of these vile cowards once and for
all!”
    Everyone in the room leaned forward,
desperate to hear Amroth’s strategy. The Quodivar were the greatest
threat to Lodia’s economy in more than a century, and the vast
majority of the nobles gathered here had strong ownership in at
least one merchant company. Amroth provided hope not only for
peace, but for fat wallets as well.
    “ My plan requires great
risk, but it is the only hope we have. Large armies do