Page 28 of An Unlikely Knight
“I do not cook,” Liam said in a clipped tone. “Besides their food is unlike anything we’ve ever eaten.”
Padriag grinned. “You can be a sous chef to whoever the cook is.”
“Shut up.” Liam lifted the tea to his lips and took a long sip. “This is a serious matter, not a time for you to jest.”
“Hey, trying to help as you are so keen on going to battle, or whatever they are going to the northern border to do.”
Veylen shook his head. “We are prepared for battle, but it is doubtful it will come to that. Your presence would hinder and not help.”
Picturing the realm borders, Padriag tried to think what lands were north to Esland. He’d assumed it was the mists.
“Sterling told me you were surrounded by mists on the sides not on the Atlandia border.” Padriag studied Veylen, who’s face shuttered.
The warrior pushed back from the table. “As I said, it may be several days before escort can be arranged.” With that he walked from the room.
“If we had horses, we could leave on our own,” Liam said leaning back. “I suppose a few days reprieve gives us time to plan better.”
It was true, but their options were limited. Other than heading to Atlandia, there was nowhere else to go. Unlike the villagers there, Padraig was not physically able to survive the icing storms that occurred almost daily. How those people managed to grow food and keep livestock alive was a testament to their tenacity.
“Do you remember that mountain not too far from the keep?” Padriag asked, picturing the location of one of their quests when they’d chased a dragon. “If I recall correctly, there was a village up there. The weather is better and maybe I can negotiate living there in exchange for something. Protection, magic, shit I don’t know.”
Liam nodded. “I do remember it. Believe it to be called Briaga, the people seemed accepting. You can offer to be the village idiot.”
“I could, but my wit is too sharp for most, and they’d quickly vote me as their leader. I am not prepared for the responsibility,” Padriag quipped. “What about blacksmithing? Niall taught me quite a bit.”
“If there is a need for one in the village, one is probably already there.” Liam shook his head. “I am sure you can make do. You are quick on your feet.”
Visions of wearing torn rags and begging for food swarmed through his mind, and Padriag shook them off. This was not the time for negative thinking.
At the sharp cries echoing through the air, the two men jolted upright and rushed onto the balcony. Below, a formation of nearly a hundred warriors sat astride massive, horned aurochs, their muscular frames shifting beneath gleaming armor. The enormous beasts bellowed, nostrils flaring as they pawed the earth, their breath misting in the crisp morning air. From every window and balcony, people leaned out, waving vibrant cloths of crimson, gold, and emerald, their voices rising in rhythmic chants that pulsed like a heartbeat through the city.
Above them, the sounds of the powerful sweep of dragon wings. A dozen great beasts circled, their scales catching the light, flashing hues of deep sapphire, fiery copper, and obsidian black. But among them, one stood out—a breathtaking iridescent dragon, its shimmering scales reflecting a rainbow of shifting colors. Atop its powerful back sat Sterling, his silhouette regal against the dawn.
Though other dragons loomed larger, their forms more fearsome, none could rival the ethereal beauty of Sterling’s mount. The dragon let out a piercing, bone-shaking screech, its throat swelling before it unleashed a torrent of flames—blazing ribbons of orange and red that streaked across the sky.
At the command, the Eslandian army surged forward in unison, their mounts’ huge hooves like thunder as they headed northward.
