Sea Dragon (Dragon Knights Book 9) (3 page)

Seth didn’t really think that was the reason, but he wouldn’t gainsay his mother. She meant well. While he would have loved to have been chosen to partner a dragon, if that wasn’t his fate, he was reconciled to it. He was content enough, he supposed, helping Bronwyn in her twilight years and doing good work in the Lair that needed to be done.

They wouldn’t turn him out because he could talk with dragons, but he would never really fit in with the knights unless a dragon spoke the words of Claim to him. Which was about as likely to happen as it was that Hrardorr’s vision would spontaneously return.

Seth snorted as he approached the massive door to Hrardorr’s private suite. It was up near the top of the Lair so he could fly out easily and not have far to walk from the landing ledge to his sand pit when he returned.

Every accommodation had been made for Hrardorr, hero fighter that he’d been. Most of his brethren gave him a wide berth, seeming to not know what to say to their disabled colleague. Dragons were fighters by nature, especially those that chose to partner with knights and fight to defend the borders of Draconia. They weren’t necessarily eloquent. And a lot of them didn’t know how to deal with injuries—either to themselves or to others of their kind.

In general, they healed fast, and well. There was a phenomenon known as the Dragon’s Breath that could be used to heal humans as well as dragons, though a dragon with the gift could not heal itself. Just like with humans, the healing gift only worked on others, not on the healer.

So minor injuries usually healed fast, and the dragon was right out there fighting once again. Major injuries were tended by Bronwyn and Seth. Lady Bronwyn had a true gift and was able to use it to save many lives. Seth did the heavy lifting. He sewed up wounds the conventional way, without the use of magic. He applied poultices and administered healing herbs. He fetched the raw materials from the forest and the town’s market for Bronwyn, and learned from her the proper way to brew the various potions and ointments that were her stock and trade.

Because of his work for Bronwyn, Seth had more contact with the town, especially its merchants, than most other Lair folk. There was one woman in particular who had caught his eye on multiple occasions.

Livia. Livia O’Dare, daughter of the most reckless sea captain to ever sail the high seas. Since the death of his wife, he was never home—or so the gossip said. Her father sailed the really dangerous routes and brought back some of the highest quality medicinal components.

Seth had sought her out in the market and had traded with her a few very memorable times. She had no way of knowing who he was or where he had come from. Seth didn’t like to boast of his origins to the townspeople. A few of the innkeepers knew he hailed from the Lair, and he had one or two friends among the locals, but Livia wasn’t in his social circle.

As far as Seth was concerned, she was so far out of his reach he might as well not even daydream about her. Yet, he found he couldn’t help himself.

The richest girl in the town of Dragonscove wouldn’t be interested in a failed knight candidate—a mediocre healer who had only a small room in the Lair. She deserved a man as powerful and connected as she. A man of means who could be a true partner to her.

Not a fellow who was still only an apprentice long after the age when he should have found his true vocation, or at least achieved some higher rank in his chosen field. Seth was a failure in his own eyes, and Mistress Livia O’Dare was much too good for the likes of him.

Seth sighed heavily and knocked on the door to Hrardorr’s quarters. No use thinking about the woman he would never have. Hrardorr should be his focus now. He could at least try to help the blind dragon.

“Enter.”
Hrardorr’s voice rumbled through Seth’s mind. The single word held a new tone that hadn’t been there since Seth had met him. He sounded…almost…happy?

Seth pushed open the massive door with a frown of confusion on his face that Hrardorr couldn’t see. Once he could see the dragon, ensconced in the warm sand of his wallow, Seth became even more intrigued. For the first time, Hrardorr wasn’t scowling in that way only dragons could scowl—with their whole heads, furrowed ridges of scales making deep grooves on their faces, twisting their horns into strange positions.

For once, Hrardorr’s expression was relaxed.

“You look like you had a good day,” Seth remarked as he approached the dragon, being careful to make a little extra noise with his feet, so Hrardorr would know where he was.

“I did, thank you.”

The politeness was new, too, though Seth didn’t remark on it. Most dragons were polite as a general rule, but Hrardorr have been—somewhat understandably—almost surly since he’d arrived in the Southern Lair with such grave injuries.

The lacerations in his wings had been healed already, but the scars had taken a few weeks to fade. The cuts and deep gouges in his body were taking a little longer to heal, but those were coming along nicely, and all had protected scabs. Seth checked them daily, to make sure no infections were starting that could be prevented.

It was the eyes that were the worst of Hrardorr’s injuries. Turned milky by the searing burn of skith venom, Seth knew Hrardorr’s eyes still gave him great pain each day. They oozed, and though the venom had been washed away, Seth still needed to irrigate them each day with a mild solution of biliberry to help whatever healing might still take place.

By now, Hrardorr knew the routine. He stepped out of his sand wallow and over to the area that would have served as a sitting area for Hrardorr’s knight, if Hrardorr still had a fighting partner. All human furniture had been cleared, except for a small stool and ladder that Seth used when administering Hrardorr’s treatments.

The empty sitting area was right next to the human bathing alcove, where Seth could access water. He kept his supplies there and went into the small chamber to make preparations while Hrardorr got into position, laying his head near the doorway. They would do the eyes first, then Seth would do a body check on Hrardorr’s other injuries before finishing up with a rubdown of his wing joints with protective oils.

Since Hrardorr couldn’t see anymore to take care of himself and had lost the knight who should have been seeing to his health, Seth had taken to doing it. Seth had done as much for his fathers’ dragon partners, the dragon pair he called Mama and Papa. He even had dragon siblings whom he’d helped in the same way.

Big as they were, dragons sometimes needed help reaching the delicate places on their wings, and a little ointment or fragrant oil went a long way toward keeping wing joints in the best possible shape. Seth was happy to have the knowledge and skill to help Hrardorr, though he knew the dragon resented needing the help.

If his knight hadn’t been killed, Hrardorr would’ve been tended by him. Seth knew the bond between dragon and knight was formed on a soul-deep level. It was a true partnership. A melding of hearts and minds that lasted for the knight’s lifetime. And when the knight eventually died, the dragon went into mourning for a period before ever considering picking a new knight to share its life with.

Hrardorr had to be in mourning now. Seth felt for him. It wasn’t easy to lose those you loved.

“I went fishing today,”
Hrardorr informed Seth, breaking into his thoughts.

Seth was so surprised he didn’t quite know how to answer at first. “That sounds like fun.” Seth figured that was a safe answer. The dragon could elaborate if he chose to speak further.

“It was. I caught a shark which apparently had been harassing the fishermen of the town.”
An unmistakable tone of satisfaction flowed through the dragon’s rumbly words.

“Then you have done a good deed today, Sir Hrardorr. I have a few friends among the fishing folk, and I know they fear some of the truly large predators of the sea, yet they must go out there each day to feed their families.”

“So I have been told,”
Hrardorr
agreed while Seth began bathing the dragon’s sightless eyes.

Seth was surprised to hear Hrardorr had spoken with anyone. He’d been spectacularly isolated since his arrival, not really speaking to anyone besides Bronwyn—at first—and now just Seth.

“I’m glad you’re talking with your brethren,” Seth said softly, choosing his words carefully.

“Oh, no. I heard this from a human in town. Or actually, on the sea. She was fishing, and we stopped to talk for a few minutes. For a human female, she is remarkably brave. I have not been around many human females in my time. I wonder if they are all like her?”
The dragon seemed to muse on this as Seth worked on his eyes.

If there was a woman in Dragonscove who could bespeak dragons, Hrardorr’s discovery was big news. Every single knight in the Lair would want to meet her and try his luck, hoping she might be the one to complete a Lair family and allow the single dragons to pair up as well.

For a dragon couple could never consummate their union with a mating flight while their knight partners were single. The spillover of passion could not be satisfied by a casual liaison. There had to be deep and abiding love between the participants, or the knights could easily run mad with the emotional echoes coming down the connection between themselves and their dragons.

The dragons could not mate until the knights found their match. And women who could live in the Lair, among dragonkind, were rare. Even rarer were those who could speak with dragons. The gift was found more often in males, though even then, it appeared only in a very small percentage of the population. Only a man who could speak with dragons was eligible to become a knight—and only then, if a dragon chose him.

Dragons could see into the soul. They could judge the goodness in a man’s heart. They would only pick the best of the candidates to partner with for, once chosen, the dragon bonded to his knight for life. And that life was spent in service to their homeland of Draconia.

“Do you know who this fisherwoman is? Did you get her name?” Seth asked, knowing such information would have to be shared. Women who could hear dragons were just too rare to ignore.

“Did I say she was a fisherwoman?”
Hrardorr asked in an insulted tone.
“She is a lady through and through, though she is not afraid of hard work, or of me, as it turns out. She is unlike any human female I have ever encountered.”

“You know the knights are going to want to seek her out,” Seth said, laying his cards on the table. “Such women are rare.”

“I know that as well as you do, youngster,”
Hrardorr snapped.
“But something tells me this lady will not be content to accept just any knight. She is special. So must the men be who claim her.”

“You’re going to keep her identity secret?” Seth almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Then again, this mysterious woman seemed to have brought a spark of life back to Hrardorr. He was much more animated than Seth had ever seen him. He looked as if he was taking an interest in life again, which Seth counted as a great sign.

“Perhaps,”
Hrardorr agreed.
“For a while, at least. I need to find the right knights and dragons to court her. And since I am new to this Lair, you must help me. You were born here, no?”

Seth sighed. “Yes, I was born here. I know everybody. And I suppose you’ll want me to give you the run-down on who’s who?” Secretly, Seth was thrilled with Hrardorr’s new interest in his surroundings and in learning about the people of the Lair. Maybe this would be the first step in getting the blind dragon to become truly part of his new home.

“That would be very helpful. Yes. I think we should start there,”
Hrardorr mused as Seth finished treating his eyes.

After that conversation, every night when Seth treated Hrardorr
’s
wounds and cared for his wings, Seth told him about the people of the Southern Lair. He talked about his family and their close friends. He talked about the prominent knights and dragons. He told stories about daily life in the Lair and who was better at what sorts of tasks among the dragons and knights.

Seth told Hrardorr about his friends—both those who had already been chosen by dragons and even the few younger males who were still living with their parents and hoping to be partnered with a dragon as soon as the right one came to choose them. Seth’s motive for that was to hopefully get Hrardorr interested in taking another knight who could help him recover. Seth thought that, if Hrardorr had the care of a true partner, he would heal faster and better, but choosing another knight was totally up to Hrardorr.

For his part, Hrardorr continued to improve. He’d go off each day for a swim and a fishing expedition. Some days, he’d come back to the Lair and mention that he’d met up with his human female friend again, though he never told Seth her name. Some days, he’d talk about the way the fishermen on their little boats had cheered when he came to the surface with a massive shark in his teeth. Each day, Hrardorr seemed to grow stronger and more engaged in the world again. And each night, Seth became happier with the dragon’s progress.

At the end of each week, Bronwyn would make the trek to Hrardorr’s chamber to check on his progress. After the first few visits, she had taken to sitting with the dragon for a while and bringing him up to date on the news in the Lair. Bronwyn was old enough to get away with such tactics, for a dragon would not be disrespectful to an elder—human or otherwise.

Seth sat by her side, having made tea for them both in the small kitchen area that was mostly bare, except for the jar of tea and a tin box of crackers he’d placed there especially for Bronwyn’s visits. He’d taken a comfortable chair out of storage for her to use and sat himself on the wooden stool, near her side.

“You are looking better each day, Sir Hrardorr,” Bronwyn pronounced after she’d settled with her tea. She’d already done a thorough examination of Hrardorr’s wounds. “I’m glad to see Seth is taking such good care of you.”

“That he is, milady,”
Hrardorr agreed, allowing both humans to hear his words. Dragons could direct their speech to one mind or several. They were highly skilled in such things.