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

grasping him could
hear. Even so, the crowd fell silent just seeing Amroth’s lips
move.
    “ What is the meaning of
this?” the king asked curtly. “Explain yourself,
Amroth!”
    The captain gestured at Iren. “If he dies,
my mission cannot succeed. I can’t defeat the Quodivar without him.
Choose between your vengeance and your desire for security in
Lodia.”
    The king looked like he might detonate.
“Just a minute!” he cried, his face purple. “How can you think you
can rely on Ir . . . Ir . . .”
he seemed unable to bring himself to utter Iren’s name, “that thing
for this mission of yours? This plan risks not only your life, but
the hopes and dreams of all Lodians. With such stakes, you would
put your trust in a Left?”
    Amroth’s expression leveled, and his voice
matched his even look. He raised his volume so the crowd could
hear, “No soldier in Lodia can match Iren’s strength. You’ve read
the stories. He is a weapon. We should use him as such.”
    Iren couldn’t decide whether Amroth’s words
made him happy or upset. True, the captain was sticking up for him
as no one had ever done before, but getting referred to as an
object wasn’t exactly uplifting.
    An old woman near the front of the crowd
stood. Iren recognized her as Haldessa’s librarian. “Captain
Angustion, please think of what you’re saying! I have read all the
great texts of Lodia. I know of these Lefts; the oldest histories
speak of them. None mention a name, but they all agree on two
points. The Lefts spawn from darkness, and they bring death and
destruction to all in their path! Just look at that chandelier!”
She turned slightly, revealing a thin cut on her shoulder where a
piece of glass from the shattered fixture had sliced into her.
“That monster wounded many tonight, including myself. Worse, he
almost crushed you and Sergeant Platarch to death, simply for his
own amusement! He may look like a child, but he is a devil!”
    “ Indeed,” Amroth spoke as
though the librarian had proven his point. “Not many can claim to
have nearly killed Amroth Angustion. Instead of wasting such
destructive talent, why not point him in the direction of the
Quodivar?”
    The crowd had nothing to say to that, but
Iren could see them all fuming, particularly the Castle Guard
members. Probably they felt cheated, believing Iren had stolen
their spot on Amroth’s team.
    Looking ill at ease, the king raised his
hands. “We’ve all had a lot to drink tonight. Let’s retire. Level
heads will prevail in the morning. Guards, take the boy to the
Tower of Divinion and ensure he stays there.”
    While no one had any desire to leave, the
king had given his order. Slowly, the crowd headed out the back
door. Several of those nearest Iren spat on him as they passed.
Once everyone else departed, the two men clutching Iren dragged him
to his tower chamber, tossed him inside, and slammed the door
shut.
    Iren pressed his ear to the door. From just
outside he could hear the two men’s tense breathing. He couldn’t
escape. Hopelessly, he walked to his room’s window, staring into
the starlit night. It was the first full moon of spring, and
despite the crisp air, Iren found it clean and refreshing. If he
had to pick a last night alive, this one would just about do
it.
    Why wait? Azuluu wouldn’t change his mind on
something like this, not even for Amroth. The castle residents
would riot if the king denied them their spectacle. Iren clenched
his teeth. Azuluu wouldn’t let him die quickly. He would be
tortured, publicly humiliated, and then executed in as grotesque a
manner as Azuluu could devise. He would suffer immensely, just to
put on a good show.
    He slapped both palms on the windowsill.
“Absolutely not!” If he had to die, he certainly wouldn’t let them
have fun with it. Sticking his head out the window, he noted the
dark courtyard a dizzying distance below him. If he fell from this
height, there was no way he could survive.
    He had