Lyric's Curse (Dragonblood Sagas Book 1) Read online

  Sibylle was just glad to get out of the stuffy carriage. Sitting on top was much better. Here she had an unobstructed view of the forest.

  While Sibylle admired the scenery, Robert rode up beside the carriage. In a soft voice that barely reached her, he spoke. “Sibylle, I want you to slowly look at the ridge to the north. What do you see?”

  Sibylle slowly looked around. They were in a small valley with forest-covered hills on both sides. To the north were a small set of hills in front of larger ones that continued up into the mountains behind. The ridge Robert had mentioned was in the second set of hills. Along the ridge, she could see Elk moving up the hill towards the mountain. Something had scared the Elk.

  Below the ridge, Sibylle could see dark shadows moving among the trees. “Riders,” said Sibylle. “Maybe a dozen that I can see, It’s hard to tell among the trees.”

  “Now look ahead, see where the valley is its narrowest. What do you see there?”

  Sibylle looked ahead. The spot where the hills seemed to close in was not that far ahead. They would be there in a few minutes. She scanned the woods on both sides but nothing seemed out of place. Then a small flock of birds flew into the air on the south side of the valley. Again, something was spooking the wildlife. “Something is there,” she said to Robert.

  “Okay, when the attack comes, I want you to fire at the first man that shows his face on the southern side of the road. Once you have fired your arrow, I want you hiding under your shield.”

  Sibylle started to protest when Robert cut her off.

  “Silence. While you are hiding under your shield, I want you watching the ditches and the trees closest to the carriage. Make sure no warriors reach the carriage without anyone noticing. Now knock on the roof of the carriage three times.”

  Sibylle used her foot to hit the roof. Sibylle heard the curtain window being pulled back as her father looked out the window to see what was amiss.

  “Lord Lamar, do you have your armor on?” asked Robert.

  Lord Lamar didn’t need to hear anymore. He knew what was coming. Quickly, he put on his chain mail and gauntlets. The luxury of riding in the carriage was that he didn’t have to have the cumbersome armor on any longer than necessary, yet had it readily available. With the heavy leathers he was already wearing, Lord Lamar was ready for battle.

  Sibylle clutched her bow and waited nervously. She’d trained plenty with Sir Robert, but this was different. This was chaotic and very real. It scared and excited her all at the same time.

  Suddenly, Robert called out and the carriage stopped. The supply wagons formed a circle around the carriage and the drivers tied off the horses and pulled out bows. They had stopped before the ambush could happen.

  Sibylle could see why Robert had halted their progress. They were only a few hundred yards from the narrow spot in the valley but where they were now was wide and flat. It was also out of bow range from the trees. Any attackers would have to face them out in the open. By stopping, they had neutralized the bandits’ biggest advantage. Sibylle wondered how many bandits were out there?

  Shadows among the trees started moving, it seemed they were indecisive as to how to proceed now that their ambush was halted. However, a tall warrior walked of the trees and lifted his sword and gave a loud war call. His companions soon joined him. They started running towards the wagons. From the other side of the valley, the horsemen who were coming up behind them also started attacking.

  Robert barked an order to the knights to focus on the horsemen. He then ordered the wagon drivers and accompanying bowmen to come to the front wagons and fire into the oncoming bandits.

  When the bandits got within bow range, Sibylle nocked her arrow, pulled back and aimed at the tall warrior who had led the attack. She focused on the warrior, calmly breathed out slowly as Robert had taught her, and released her arrow. It flew true and struck the warrior high in the chest, just beside his shoulder. Unfortunately, the arrow was not close enough to his heart to be a kill shot.

  The warrior slowed when the arrow struck him, but he didn’t stop. Moving his sword to his left hand, the warrior grabbed the arrow and snapped it off, leaving the arrowhead embedded above his collar bone. Then, the warrior started running forward again.

  Sibylle, ignoring Robert’s previous command, nocked another arrow and fired at another warrior who was leading the pack. This time her arrow caught its target directly in the middle of his chest. When the warrior fell, Sibylle looked for her next target. With so many warriors running at them, Sibylle feared they’d be overrun.

  …

  As the warriors rushed toward the wagons, Robert realized that there were too many to fend off with bows. Turning, Robert saw that the knights were in a fiercely pitched battle with the enemy’s horsemen. The knights would not get back to the wagons in time to help. “Fire one more round of arrows and then grab your swords and shields,” yelled Robert to the archers and wagon drivers. Robert had no doubt the knights would prevail against the lighter armed horsemen they faced, and would return to the wagons, but they had to defend themselves until that happened. The tightly drawn together wagons assisted the defenders. Giving the attackers limited ways to attack without having to climb under or over a wagon.

  As the archers and drivers fired their last arrows, the bandits started reaching the wagons. The sounds of swords crashing together filled the air. Robert struck one warrior down and then moved forward to challenge the next. The defenders held their ground.

  A large warrior yielding a heavy war axe attacked Robert from the side while another came at him head on. Robert spun around, blocked the heavy axe and ducked as the other swordsman failed to knock his head off. Robert then kicked out at the swordsman, striking him in the kneecap and sending him to the ground. He then engaged the axe man once more.

  While the two warriors attacked Robert, two more broke through the circle of defenders and struck down the carriage driver. The two men then jumped up on the driver’s bench. One grabbed the reins while the other swiped his sword at Sibylle.

  Sibylle, seeing the men jump onto the carriage, had dropped her bow and was clutching her shield. Wide-eyed and full of fear and nervous energy Sibylle jumped back as a bandit attacked her. As she blocked the man’s wild swings she yelled out to Robert.

  Robert, hearing Sibylle’s yell, glanced past the axe man and saw a bandit slapping the reins and starting the horses forward. He was taking the carriage! Robert deftly spun and dipped under the axe man’s blow and stabbed him in the chest. He pushed the dying axe man back to retrieve his sword from the man’s chest, then quickly ran to the wagon where his own horse was tied off. Robert knocked a bandit out of his way and then started to chase after the fleeing carriage.

  …

  As the carriage raced away from the wagons, the bandit trying to kill Sibylle jumped up on the carriage roof and closed in on Sibylle. Just as he was about strike her down, Sibylle lifted her shield and blocked the attack. The bandit pushed forward on the shield, pushing Sibylle back. Sibylle moved her foot back to gain traction and found air. She fell off the back of the carriage to the road below and the bandit tumbled down with her.

  Sibylle struck the ground with a thump. The hard landing knocked the air out of her lungs. As she gasped for air, the bandit stood up. He had been fortunate to land on his hands and knees. While his legs were scraped up, he didn’t lose his breath. Sibylle wanted to get up and fight the bandit, but she still couldn’t get her lungs to work properly. Fear gripped her as the man moved above her.

  Raising his sword above his head, the bandit went to strike down at Sibylle.

  Sibylle twisted around and raised her shield. The heavy blow of the sword was stopped, but her shield went flying to the side. Sibylle was now defenseless against the bandit.

  The bandit grinned as he watched Sibylle’s shield get knocked to the side.

  Prepared to die, Sibylle watched as the bandit prepared to swing and then stopped. His sword fell and the man crumbled to the g
round.

  Surprised, Sibylle looked up into the big, bright, violet eyes of a skinny little brown-haired boy holding a staff that looked far too big for the anemic looking youth. The strange and scruffy looking boy had knocked out the bandit!

  Sibylle could hear a horse galloping. She looked up to see Sir Robert, riding as fast as he could. Sir Robert, having seen the man crumble, slowed down long enough to yell at Sibylle, “Are you okay?”

  Sibylle nodded. Her bottom hurt like hell from the fall, but she was okay.

  Sir Robert spurred on his horse so he could catch the runaway carriage carrying Lord Lamar.

  As Robert rode past them after the carriage. Sibylle examined her rescuer. The olive-skinned boy, skinny as a rail and wearing garments that barely passed as clothing, looked wide-eyed at the bandit. He seemed more afraid that she did despite the fact he’d just brained the bandit.

  “You think he’s dead?” asked the boy nervously. The bandits head had been off to the side at an impossible angle as he fell. The blow to the head had broken his neck. For a skinny little guy, he certainly could swing a staff. Sibylle nodded and continued. “Yes. I think you killed him.”

  The boy looked terrified. Sibylle then noticed an old woman come out of the bushes and join them. Sibylle stood up and retrieved her shield. Once she had her shield again. Sibylle addressed the boy. “Thank you, sir. You saved my life.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” said the boy. “I was trying to hide in the bush. But he was going to hit you. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  “Lyric, stop apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong. Be gracious and accept the young lady’s thanks,” scolded Azina.

  Sibylle watched the pair with curiosity. Who were they? And how were they there, just in time to save her? Even if he didn’t mean to, a claim she believed.

  Just then, two of the king’s knights charged up the road. They halted just in front of Sibylle and raised their weapons towards the boy and the old woman.

  “It’s okay, they saved me. Go help Robert get my father,” ordered Sibylle. The boy might have brained the bandit but she didn’t sense danger. He barely looked strong enough to hold a staff properly. The fact he’d managed to kill the man spoke to luck and adrenaline instead of skill or power. The old woman looked equally nonthreatening.

  The knights looked warily at the raggedy boy and the old woman before they spurred their horses and chased off after the carriage.

  “Are you on your way to Winport?” asked Sibylle.

  “No, my lady, we’re headed to Middale,” replied Azina.

  “Perfect. We’re headed there as well. Will you accompany us?”

  Sibylle watched as the boy turned to the old woman. It seemed that he had no idea what to say to her.

  Azina nodded. “We would be delighted to join you. I’ve walked this road many of times in my younger years, but the road seems to be getting longer and longer. We’d appreciate a ride.”

  As they spoke, the carriage along with the two knights came back up the road. Robert was at the reins. “Are you okay, Sibylle?” asked Robert as he stopped the carriage.

  Lord Lamar jumped out of the carriage and came to Sibylle, giving her a big hug and then holding her at arm’s length to inspect her. “Are you hurt? I told you staying on the carriage roof was a bad idea. You could fall off while bandits try to steal it.”

  Sibylle sighed while her father fawned over her. “Being in the carriage wasn’t much safer. You were almost kidnapped.”

  “Hush, child, let your father be right once in a while,” protested Lord Lamar. Sibylle was fine, but his nerves were not.

  “Father, I have invited these people to join us. This boy saved my life.”

  Lord Lamar turned from Sibylle and examined Lyric. “Thank you, young man. You’ve done me a great service. It shall not be forgotten.”

  As they talked, the wagons started coming up the road. The remaining bandits had fled once the knights defeated the horsemen and returned to the wagons. A couple of the drivers had suffered minor injuries and one archer died during the attack. Compared to the bandits, they had gotten off lucky. Lord Lamar didn’t want to push his luck by staying in the woods any longer than necessary. The sooner they returned to Middale and castle Lamar the better.

  …

  Lyric stood nervously with Azina and watched as the Lord Lamar and Sir Robert organized the wagons in preparation to continue back to Middale. The adrenaline which had propelled him to jump onto the road and help the girl, Sibylle, was fading and now he felt self-conscious. These were highborn folk, the type Lyric had only ever seen from a distance.

  Done seeing to the wagons, Lord Lamar went to get back into his carriage. This time he insisted Sibylle join him. He then turned to Lyric and Azina, “Would you care to join us in our carriage?”

  Lyric’s eyes went wide and he shook his head profusely.

  Azina answered for the both of them, “We appreciate the offer, My Lord, but a ride on one of your wagons would be more to our liking.”

  Lord Lamar nodded, “Robert, see that they are well looked after. Thank you again, for your assistance.”

  Robert took Lyric to one of the wagons carrying blankets and yards of silk. “This wagon will take you to Middale. It has the most comfortable seats available.”

  Lyric climbed into the wagon as Sir Robert assisted Azina up. The wagon was indeed very comfortable. The soft bales of silks made wonderful seats.

  Once the wagons started moving, Azina looked at Lyric. “Why did you not want to ride in the carriage?”

  “A lord, and the prettiest girl in the world? No way could I sit with them. I wouldn’t dare offend their noses with my odor,” said Lyric.

  “You cheeky little brat, you don’t mind me suffering through your retched odors, but when a pretty girl comes along, you care,” Azina scolded Lyric. “I suppose it’s better you said no. Having Lord Lamar die of toxic fumes would negate any goodwill you earned by saving his daughter. Maybe now you’ll heed my words on personal hygiene.”

  Lyric bowed his head as Azina scolded him. He had never imagined a situation where he would ever meet a pretty girl, let alone one whose father was a lord. Lyric vowed to himself that he would bathe and find better looking clothing.

  “Lyric, why did you jump out of the bushes?”

  When they had first heard the carriage racing down the road, Azina had pulled Lyric into the bushes. They were going to hide there until the carriage went pass. Azina was still concerned about the men looking for Lyric.

  Lyric had watched in awe as the girl on the roof of the carriage fought off her attacker with only a shield. The way she had seemed so defiant and refused to be defeated by the bigger, better armed attacker. When she had fallen to the ground, Lyric groaned. Get up, he wanted to scream. Get up and beat him. But when the attacker had gotten up first and looked like he would kill her, something in Lyric had snapped. He had momentarily forgotten his fear and ran up behind the warrior, striking him in the head as hard as he could. What had possessed him to do such a thing was beyond Lyric. He had no idea why he had rescued the girl, he just did it. “It seemed like a good idea,” he answered.

  Azina leaned back onto the comfortable piles of silks. “It seemed like a good idea? Of all the scatterbrained lunkheads, I get stuck with you.”

  19

  DEEP IN THE RECESSES OF OAKENREACH ESTATES, Layton Finch sat in his bed staring at the ceiling. Layton Finch knew he was dying. Age and minute amounts of poison in his tea had ensured his time was drawing to an end. The poison troubled Layton. Who poisons a dying man? What purpose would an earlier death serve anyone? Layton dreaded finding out the answer to that riddle.

  It was very likely that his discreet inquiries into the situation on Droll Isle had been the cause of his enemies’ actions. For years, Layton had avoided discussing the Isle or anyone on it, including his own bastard son. Layton didn’t hate that he had a bastard. In fact, he had been very fond of the boy’s mother, despite her professio
n. In another lifetime, under different circumstances, Layton would have stayed in Winport and raised his bastard. However, time didn’t work that way and no amount of regret would change the past.

  Now that Layton knew he was dying, it was time to make a decision. For years, Layton had been carefully watching his daughter Shayla. Shayla, having the mark of the dragon, was his best chance of passing on his knowledge, and possibly one of the best chances for humankind to regain a meaningful connection with dragons, and provide some sort of balance between dragons and humans. Without dragon-bonded humans to act as intermediaries, dragons and humans would hunt either other until one or the other was extinct. Layton worried that this time around it wouldn’t be dragons disappearing from the world.

  Yet, as Layton spent more time focusing on his only legitimate child, he came to realize one truth. Shayla was not the right person to hand his knowledge down to. Shayla was too much like her mother, Cailyn, power hungry and self-centered. Some of his own less desirable traits had made it into her as well, stubborn and willful with more than a hint of arrogance.

  The fault lay with Layton. Too long, he had been away, leaving the upbringing to the discretion of his wife. Then when he would be home to visit, Layton spoiled his daughter out of regret for being away so much. It had taken Layton years to recognize his own faults as a man; sadly, it took much less time to find the faults in his daughter.

  As a ruler, she would do well. The titles she inherited from her mother, along with the wealth Layton had built up over the years working as a merchant’s mage would give her all she needed in life. Shayla Finch was already a political force in the kingdom and his death would only strengthen that position. Layton accepted that, as there were much worse people in the kingdom when it came to looking after the people under their rule. One thing Shayla had learned from her father was the value of a wealthy merchant class. The people under her rule would have to learn to accept a firm ruler, but she would allow them to profit.