When Dragons Came Chapter 3: Whispers on the Wind

I did not immediately die. Instead, I lay on the soggy forest floor, hidden beneath the bracken, with rain pelting down on me. Far too weak to move my body, I nevertheless couldn’t still my mind.

Was the fire completely out? Was Rilla all right? What about Cali and the rest of my family—and the village?

And what were those soldiers doing here? Surely they hadn’t come to fight the dragon. They couldn’t have known dragons still existed in this country any more than I did. And if they had known, how could they have predicted it would come this way?

They couldn’t have known. But if they hadn’t come for the dragon, why had they come? Had the king decided to add threats to his repeated offers to buy up the farms in and around their village?

A breath of wind brushed my cheek, and I smiled and reached up a hand to touch the spot where it caressed me. Sweet little winds. “I don’t’ suppose I could convince you to bring me the voices from down in the field?” I murmured.

The breeze danced around me, chilling my wet skin. Then it disappeared. Did that mean it would try to help me hear? I tried to push myself upright, so I could see what was going on in the field below me, but my arms wouldn’t hold my weight.

Only a few minutes later, though, the wind returned, a steady breeze this time that pushed the rain away from my face, and brought with it the noise of dozens of soldiers swearing and helping each out of the mud.

That didn’t help me much. What I really needed to know about was what was happening with Rilla—and what the leaders were saying.

The noise shifted and fuzzed, most of it fading away until a deep but flat voice said, “Well, will the girllive?”

A higher pitched man’s voice said, “Probably, but I wonder if she’ll be glad of that when she wakes. She has lost all her family and her farm.”

“The damage is bad, but the rain is putting out the fires. The farm will still remain.”

“But she’s a girl. Can’t inherit. Unless a male relative comes forward to claim it before the next full moon, it goes to the crown.”

“Are you sure?” The flat deep voice sounded almost interested. “But of course, you’re sure. You’re studying at law. But if you’re right, then that dragon has done us a favor.”

“So  it would seem. I was worried our mission here would fail, but now it will be easy. As the girl is the only survivor, we need only keep her—and anyone else from this village—from informing any relatives of what has transpired until the time for claiming the land has passed. The king will have his summer estate.”

“Easy indeed,” A third voice, deeper than either of the other two, said. Something about the tone made shivers crawl up my spine, though I couldn’t say why.

“Sir Drake! I did not see you there! When did you arrive?” the first man who had spoken—not the budding lawyer—said.

“While you were failing to fight the fire, I assume, Captain Perlay. I’m rather glad this unseasonable storm arrived. I would have been most displeased if this young woman burnt with the rest of her family.”

The possessiveness in Sir Drake’s voice made me feel slimy. What did he want with Rilla? Wasn’t the king’s magician older than my grandfather?

“We were never in any danger from the fire.”

Sir Drake laughed, and the sound rattled my bones. “You think not? It had you surrounded and was between your men and the river. What exactly would you have fought it with had the storm not done your work for you?”

No answer met this question. I felt almost sorry for the soldiers. Almost. They were here to force us to sell our homes, which would force most of us into service—and I had no illusions about what kind of life that would be. The nobles who visited a summer estate might find the stay pleasant, but those who arranged the experience drudged from daybreak to long after the sun went down, with no hope of their wages ever earning them more than their current life.

Even so, they didn’t deserve to be roasted alive. No one deserved that.

“Ah, well. It’s just as well you lot did not burn. Someone must watch these villagers to make sure they don’t get messages out to some distant cousin or some such with a real claim to the land the king wants. With you here, you can babysit, and I can return to the castle with my bounty.”

“Your bounty?” the legal-type asked.

“The girl, you fool. Can you imagine how grateful she’ll be to me for saving her from that monster?”

The other two men snckered, and I covered my ears. The wind that had been blowing in my face died down, and I heard no more.

I did muster enough energy to lift my head and peer out of my hiding place. Down on the field, two soldiers and a man in a swirling purple coat lifted Rilla’s limp body onto a horse and took her with them toward the village.

Would she be grateful to them—these men who had come to steal her family’s land?

Somehow I doubted it.

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