Read Online The Dragon Hunter and the Mage by V. R. Cardoso - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: V. R. Cardoso
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figure out the reason for such a fuss. One of the soldiers opened the door to the inn and the Captain shoved Aric inside. They were immediately intercepted by a rather helpful, fat man, whom Aric assumed was the owner.
“It is an honor to welcome you, my Lords,” he said beneath a thick mustache. “If there is anything I can do to hel p‒ ”
“Get back to the kitchen,” the Captain told him. “And don’t you dare to climb these stairs.”
The man bowed quickly and left even quicker.
Aric climbed the stairs with the Captain’s hand on his back. Would he live his whole life with Legionaries following him?
No! Today was not one of those days. Today he was going to see his father. What would he be like?
Aric had always pictured him as a big soldier. Tall, dignified, brave. Almost every Auron had been a famous warrior. Aric had read in the library about Geric, the conqueror of Saggad, about Maric, terror of the Samehrians. His own grandfather had been the late Faric Auron, High Marshal and commander of the Legions during the Thepian miner’s revolt, and had won that war despite being severely outnumbered. Of course, Tarsus would never allow Aric’s father to serve in the Legions, but the warrior would be there, underneath all of the Emperor’s bans and impositions. Aric was sure of that.
They reached the top of the stairs and walked along a corridor until they got to a door guarded by three Legionaries and one Sergeant.
This is it….
“He’s alone?” the Captain asked.
“Yes,” the Sergeant replied.
“You left him alone?”
“I saw no need t o‒ ”
“Open the door, you idiot!”
Aric had the feeling he forgot to breathe.
Doric poured another glass of wine, finishing another jar. Today was a happy day. He was finally going to see his own son after so many years. So why was he feeling so damn miserable?
“I guess I’m just used to it,” he said to himself as he emptied the cup in his hand.
At that moment the door opened, revealing the sergeant that had brought him there, and a Captain holding a boy by his shoulders. It was Aric, there was no doubt.
The boy’s eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped. Doric felt his son examining him from head to toe and admonished himself for not having been more careful when he had dressed up that morning. His clothes were expensive, or at least, they had once been, but now they were in terrible shape. Raggedy, stained, even burned in some places.
Doric ran his fingers through his hair as if that could conceal his miserable look. He knew very well that his blond curls were so long, dirty, and entwined it was hard for anyone to believe they belonged to a nobleman.
“Son….” He stepped forward and hugged Aric, hoping he would not smell the wine. “Can you give us some privacy?” Doric asked the guards.
“Not a chance,” the Captain said, locking the door in its place.
“Captain, Lord Auron….”
“Sergeant, report outside the inn and wait for me there.”
Obediently, the sergeant smashed a closed fist on his heart and marched away. The Captain took an hourglass from his jacket and placed it on a chest of drawers.
“Time is running.”
Doric swallowed a protest. What else could he do?
He grabbed his son by the shoulders and studied him.
“I remembered you had your mother’s eyes, but I didn’t know you have my hair,” he said, ruffling Aric’s curls. “And apparently my nose and my mouth as well.” He looked at his son from various angles. “Sorry about that.”
Aric laughed. Doric was pleased with that.
“How is life in the Citadel?”
Aric shrugged. “Boring…” he replied.
Doric laughed.
“I stroll around the empty halls of the outer palaces. Alone, because the Emperor won’t let me see Fadan. But sometimes we escape at night and do stuff together.”
“So, you’re friends?”
Aric nodded affirmatively.
“Why won’t the Emperor let you see Fadan?”
“I don’t know. I mean, the Emperor doesn’t like
“It is an honor to welcome you, my Lords,” he said beneath a thick mustache. “If there is anything I can do to hel p‒ ”
“Get back to the kitchen,” the Captain told him. “And don’t you dare to climb these stairs.”
The man bowed quickly and left even quicker.
Aric climbed the stairs with the Captain’s hand on his back. Would he live his whole life with Legionaries following him?
No! Today was not one of those days. Today he was going to see his father. What would he be like?
Aric had always pictured him as a big soldier. Tall, dignified, brave. Almost every Auron had been a famous warrior. Aric had read in the library about Geric, the conqueror of Saggad, about Maric, terror of the Samehrians. His own grandfather had been the late Faric Auron, High Marshal and commander of the Legions during the Thepian miner’s revolt, and had won that war despite being severely outnumbered. Of course, Tarsus would never allow Aric’s father to serve in the Legions, but the warrior would be there, underneath all of the Emperor’s bans and impositions. Aric was sure of that.
They reached the top of the stairs and walked along a corridor until they got to a door guarded by three Legionaries and one Sergeant.
This is it….
“He’s alone?” the Captain asked.
“Yes,” the Sergeant replied.
“You left him alone?”
“I saw no need t o‒ ”
“Open the door, you idiot!”
Aric had the feeling he forgot to breathe.
Doric poured another glass of wine, finishing another jar. Today was a happy day. He was finally going to see his own son after so many years. So why was he feeling so damn miserable?
“I guess I’m just used to it,” he said to himself as he emptied the cup in his hand.
At that moment the door opened, revealing the sergeant that had brought him there, and a Captain holding a boy by his shoulders. It was Aric, there was no doubt.
The boy’s eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped. Doric felt his son examining him from head to toe and admonished himself for not having been more careful when he had dressed up that morning. His clothes were expensive, or at least, they had once been, but now they were in terrible shape. Raggedy, stained, even burned in some places.
Doric ran his fingers through his hair as if that could conceal his miserable look. He knew very well that his blond curls were so long, dirty, and entwined it was hard for anyone to believe they belonged to a nobleman.
“Son….” He stepped forward and hugged Aric, hoping he would not smell the wine. “Can you give us some privacy?” Doric asked the guards.
“Not a chance,” the Captain said, locking the door in its place.
“Captain, Lord Auron….”
“Sergeant, report outside the inn and wait for me there.”
Obediently, the sergeant smashed a closed fist on his heart and marched away. The Captain took an hourglass from his jacket and placed it on a chest of drawers.
“Time is running.”
Doric swallowed a protest. What else could he do?
He grabbed his son by the shoulders and studied him.
“I remembered you had your mother’s eyes, but I didn’t know you have my hair,” he said, ruffling Aric’s curls. “And apparently my nose and my mouth as well.” He looked at his son from various angles. “Sorry about that.”
Aric laughed. Doric was pleased with that.
“How is life in the Citadel?”
Aric shrugged. “Boring…” he replied.
Doric laughed.
“I stroll around the empty halls of the outer palaces. Alone, because the Emperor won’t let me see Fadan. But sometimes we escape at night and do stuff together.”
“So, you’re friends?”
Aric nodded affirmatively.
“Why won’t the Emperor let you see Fadan?”
“I don’t know. I mean, the Emperor doesn’t like
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