The Dragonswarm

Also by Aaron Pogue

Dedication

World Map

Introduction

1. Knight of the People

2. Fort Palmagnes

3. Wizard, Warrior, and King

4. The Monster

5. In the Dragon's Lair

6. What Dragons Know

7. Flight

8. Forward and Down, into the Darkness

9. Half a Monster

10. The Army

11. The Wizard

12. All Across the Ardain

13. The Stronghold

14. Behind Strong Walls

15. Unusual Approaches

16. Enemies Engaged

17. The Changing Tide

18. Reunions

19. Vengeance

A Consortium of Worlds

About the Author

About the Publisher

My name is Daven Carrickson, savior of the town of Teelevon. I've been called a beggar and a murderer, an assassin and a traitor. I've been called Sir Daven in glory, and Daven Dragonprince by men and monsters. In the autumn of my eighteenth year, when I was still hiding from the memory of my terrible adventures, new adventures found me.

My feet itched to flee, and my fingers itched for a sword. Sweat slicked my palms despite the chill in the air. My eyes flicked around the little stone-walled garden, taking in every detail of the terrain. My heart pounded, and my limbs tingled.

But my adversary held no fear. This certainly wasn't an enemy I could conquer, and I wasn't willing to run. I took a slow, calming breath and turned to face my fate.

Isabelle smiled.

She was lovely. She wore a light cotton dress with a white knit shawl that hid her shoulders and showed off her sun-dark skin. She kicked a foot idly, at her ease on the white marble bench surrounded by winter blossoms. Her eyes followed a falcon soaring in the middle distance, and my eyes followed hers.

Without looking my way, she swallowed once. "We need to talk, Daven."

"Of course." My right hand twitched toward hers and then twitched back. She wasn't holding my hand today. She clasped hers together in her lap.

She didn't seem to catch my motion, but she turned to meet my gaze at last. There was more fear in her eyes than I had thought. But she was a brave girl. She set her shoulders and gave me a weak smile. "It's about us."

I nodded. I licked my lips. "I have loved every moment we spent together." I wasn't sure if I meant the words to stall her or to help her out. They were the truth, though. I'd known her for six short weeks, but it had been a lifetime. It was the best life I'd ever known. I opened my mouth to put that in words, but she dropped her gaze and stopped me.

"You..." she started, and then glanced up and trailed off. A hint of red touched her cheek. "You are nothing I ever expected. You're like no one I've ever met. Certainly like no commoner." She hesitated, heard her own words, and her blush deepened.

I found no offense in it. I was as common as they came. I touched her shoulder to reassure her. "You're like no nobleman's daughter I've ever met."

The corner of her mouth turned up in the hint of a smile. "You've met a lot of them, have you?"

I couldn't find an answer to that. She glanced up at my silence, saw my face, and the delight that danced in her eyes almost eased my heart.

But she dropped her gaze to her hands again. "I just...I don't know how to say this."

"I understand, Isabelle. I do. We're so different, it's hard to believe—"

Her head snapped up and she nodded. "Precisely! That's just it. It's hard to believe any of this happened at all." She took a deep breath, shook her head so her long hair danced around her face, and put on a smile.

I waited for what had to come.

She took my hands, then, both of them in her silk-soft fingertips. Her smile flickered again. "I never imagined this would be so hard" She squeezed my hands and caught my eyes, and I saw terror in hers. "Daven Carrickson...." She trembled, but she did not break our gaze. "Daven, dear," she said.

Her eyes shone. I cleared my throat, and she blushed. She blinked. She smiled. "Daven, will you marry me?"

My jaw dropped. For a moment the world spun around me. Something like a laugh escaped me, and I saw a little frown stab at the corners of her eyes. I shook my head. "Isabelle...what?"

She straightened her back and looked down her nose at me. "I am
trying
to propose."

"I thought...I didn't...." I squeezed her fingertips. "I would
love
to marry you." I caught a cold breath and let it out. "But we can't."

"We can," Isabelle said, confident now. "I can make it happen. All I need to know—"

"No," I cut her off as softly as I could. "We can't, Isabelle. I have no name. I have no land. Your father is a baron." And a friend of the king's. I didn't say the words, but that relationship was the largest obstacle.

Isabelle waved my objections away. "No, I've thought about it. He could adopt you as his heir." She made it sound a simple matter.

"He has heir enough in Themmichus," I said. I thought of my young friend, the good-hearted boy I'd known too briefly during my stay at the Academy of Wizardry. I would have given much to see him again.

Isabelle frowned at me. "Themm's a little boy. You are our hero. Our savior. If not for you, my whole family would be dead now or prisoners in the rebels' camp." She shuddered at the memory, and I closed my eyes in sympathy.

After a heartbeat she pressed on. "Regardless. Father sees as much in Themmichus as you seem to. But you needn't be a baron's heir. For one, there is no law—"

I shook my head, and she cut off again. There was a law. The children of Ardain lords had long been allowed to choose their own spouses, but none of them would be allowed to wed a fugitive from the king's justice. I was wanted for murdering a soldier of the King's Guard.

She should have known it too. Themmichus knew, and he had written of me often. Isabelle and I had never discussed it, though. And now, staring into her blue-gray eyes, I couldn't bring myself to give it voice. Instead I hung my head. "Do we need to hurry? I would love to marry you but it will be...complicated."

Her shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. Tears shone in her eyes. She nodded short and sharp. "I know. Of course it will be complicated. I just...I'm ready to get started. I don't want to wait."

I did. Complicated was too kind a word. We could not make arrangements without drawing a judgment from the crown. And I knew already what that judgment would be.

My time with Isabelle was doomed. It always had been, and I had always known. My heart's desire was only to delay the inevitable, to be with her as long as possible.

And again I could not put it into words. I held her gaze, and she leaned forward to kiss me on the lips. "You are my future, Daven." Her face blossomed into a smile. "I want to get it started. Right now."

There was fear. There was caution and regret, all born of the reality I knew too well. They faded into the farthest corner of my mind when I saw her smile. "And I, too," I said, a little breathless. "I love you, Isabelle. Only—"

I didn't get to voice my objection. She popped to her feet, and summer sunlight glowed in her eyes. "I love you, too. I'm so delighted. And now I have a surprise for you!"

She bounced on her toes, and she couldn't contain her smile. Within my mind, caution and fear struggled free again. I rose slowly, eyes fixed on her, and asked, "What?"

"You
will
have a name." She laughed and caught my hand. Before I could say a word she dragged me down the white gravel path toward the baron's house.

"I have told Father my intentions," she said. A whole new terror gripped my heart, but she dispelled it an instant later. "He is thrilled. As I said, he wasn't willing to adopt you, but he found another option. He's elected to name you a Knight of the People."

I stopped cold at that. She couldn't drag me a step farther. Her grip on my hand spun her in a little circle, and she met my eyes with a startled curiosity.

"A knight?" I asked.

She nodded, and the smile that crept across her face echoed in my spirit.

"A Knight of the People." I breathed the words with a reverence. It meant honor. It meant true power. It meant a name of my own, free of my father's disgrace.

"For what you've done," she said, stepping close. Her eyes were wide, and they did not quite meet mine. "You are a hero, to all the people of this barony. No one has ever deserved the honor more." She twined her fingers in mine and pressed closer against me. "And who would object to my marrying our own Knight of the People? You're better than a prince."

My breath caught in my throat. My heart pounded. I felt her warmth against me, felt it pour into me. Sir Daven of Teelevon, Knight of the People....

"Father has already set things in motion," Isabelle murmured against my chest. "He has tested the waters among the people, and they love you. He's commissioned your papers. And of course he has written the king."

My blood went cold as a Northlands winter. Fear and sadness came crashing back. "The king?"

"Of course," she said lightly. "And we're in luck. He's in Tirah, still, so the messenger should have arrived in a matter of days. We could have an answer as soon as tomorrow."

Her words struck me like blows. She must have felt the tension that stretched my body like copper wire, because she unwrapped herself from me and withdrew a pace. She looked up at me, cautious and uncertain. "What's the matter?"

"The king," I said, and the words tasted bitter. It was time we discussed these things. "Take me to your father. We need to talk."

We found Baron Eliade in his study, where a fire blazed on the stone hearth, and heavy curtains hung over glass-paned windows. The baron himself seemed untouched by the winter chill. He wore thin cotton shirt-sleeves, his silken coat thrown carelessly across the back of an empty couch.