Read Online Mistress of Dragons by Margaret Weis - Free Book Online

my meaning. We don’t like being confused.”
    “I
beg your pardon,” said Draconas. “And I beg the pardon of
Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston.”
    “In
fact,” continued the guard, frowning, “you might be best advised to take
yourself to Ramsgate. They welcome beggars, I hear. We do not.”
    “I
am not a beggar,” said Draconas mildly, maintaining his pleasant demeanor.
    “You
said you had no work.”
    “I
said I was looking for work and I’m fairly certain of finding it here. My name
is Draconas. I am a dragon hunter.”
    The
guard’s eyes widened in astonishment, then narrowed in suspicion. “Here, now,
if you’re a dragon hunter, where’s your great sharp sword and your armor and
your shield? And where’s your horse?”
    Catching
sight of Draconas’s staff, the guard leapt to a conclusion. He backed up a
pace, made the sign against evil. “You’re one of them devil-serving warlocks,
aren’t you?”
    “I
have come to Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston to offer my services to your king,”
Draconas stated. “As for how I deal with the dragon, that is my concern. Though
I would point out that sharp swords and shields and horses have not done you
much good thus far.”
    The
guard’s forehead furrowed in a frown. Rattling his sword, he said in
threatening tones, “Be gone, foul wizard! Our king has no need for the services
of those who worship the devil.”
    “On
the contrary, your king is the one who sent for me,” Draconas said coolly. “Let
me speak to your commander.”
    The
guard hesitated, then shoved his blade back in its sheathe. “Wait here,” he
ordered and clanked off.
    He
was back with his commander. “You say His Majesty sent for you, sir. I suppose
you have proof?”
    Draconas
removed the leather pouch from the end of the walking staff, opened it, took
out a letter, opened that partway, and pointed at the signet at the bottom.
    The
guard peered at it closely. “That’s His Majesty’s,” he said, straightening.
    Draconas
folded up the letter, placed it back into the pouch.
    “Now,
sir,” he said, “I have told your cohort who and what I am and I assume he has
told you. I have told him my business—I am here to deal with the dragon. And I
have showed you a letter with His Majesty’s seal. I am expected at the palace
and I intend to keep my appointment with His Majesty. You may send an escort
with me, if you do not trust me.”
    The
commander looked past the dragon hunter to the empty road, down which no
travelers had come this day nor would any come another day, so long as there
was a marauding dragon about. The commander’s thoughts went to the market, whose
stalls were empty as the road, to his friends and neighbors who were starting
to grow restless. His gaze shifted to the gleaming towers of the palace,
where—it was said—the king was at his wit’s end.
    “Take
him along,” the commander ordered the gate guard. “His Majesty will decide
whether to see him or not. If His Majesty turns him out, bring him straight
back here.” He turned to Draconas. “Will that do, sir?”
    “More
than fair, Commander,” replied Draconas.
    “You
had best make haste,” said the commander, opening the wicket. “One never knows
when or where the foul monster will suddenly appear.”
    “One
never does,” Draconas agreed politely.
    Draconas
had visited many human realms in his six hundred years, but Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston
had not been one of them. He could see that he had missed something. He was
impressed with the cleanliness of the city, its obvious wealth and
prosperity—both of which were being threatened by the presence of the dragon.
Braun had really been outdoing himself. The boy’s tale of the dragon
slaughtering thousands wasn’t true, of course. Braun and Draconas were to bend
the laws of Dragonkind, not shatter them.
    Nor
did they need to. The sight of the dragon sweeping down from the skies, slaying
cattle, burning barns and hay ricks, was all that was needed to terrorize