Read Online The Dragon of Despair by Jane Lindskold - Free Book Online Page A

signs had been evident even to an indifferent woodsman like himself. Those who had come along this trail before them had made some effort to hide their signs farther back, but this close to the gap there was no such effort. Manure dried on the narrow trails, dead wood had been cut. He’d even seen the remnants of a fire circle or two.
    He decided that now was the time to tell Firekeeper some of the rumors he’d gathered back in Eagle’s Nest.
    “I heard,” he said, “around my father’s stables, that the demand for mules and sturdy horseflesh is up. The buyers aren’t who you’d think either, not some farmer getting a few extra head in now that planting and plowing has begun.”
    Firekeeper looked blank, but Derian continued:
    “We get some of that market, you know. There are those who think it wiser to let someone else do the winter feeding for them. But these folks my father and the other livestock dealers—not only near the city, but their associates elsewhere—have been seeing aren’t interested in that. Or, I should say to be fair, they aren’t interested in just that.”
    Firekeeper gave a low, rumbling growl. Derian held up a hand.
    “More haste, less waste, Firekeeper. I’m telling you all I know to spare questions later.”
    Firekeeper subsided, but Derian didn’t need to know her as well as he did to tell she was as taut as a strung bow.
    “These buyers wanted animals who could pull a plow—eventually—but they were looking for general-purpose animals, a horse or mule who could pull a wagon or plow, carry a rider, all the rest. They wanted well-broken animals, not raw youngsters. And there was one other element to the pattern. Often the buyers weren’t one person or family, but a group.”
    “So?” Firekeeper asked, and while she didn’t growl, her voice was rough.
    “Firekeeper, you’ve figured it out already. You just might not know the word for it. These humans on the trail in front of us, they’re not furriers or trappers. It’s the wrong time of year for that even if they were. What we’re seeing are the signs of…”
    He shrugged, settling for a word that he himself didn’t really use except in a historical context.
    “They’re colonists, like the people who came from the Old World to settle this land, except that they’re not coming from across the sea. They’re going across the Iron Mountains.”
    Firekeeper made a sound like several words trying to come out at once. The word that won through was “Why?”
    “I don’t know for sure,” Derian said, “but I’ll give you a guess. They want a place of their own.”
    Firekeeper stared at him. Then she nodded slowly and Derian realized that she was finding a correlation in her own knowledge. She didn’t offer an explanation, so he went on.
    “Since back before Queen Zorana the Great founded Hawk Haven,” Derian said, “it’s been traditional to stay east of the Iron Mountains. There were stories about horrible creatures that lived to the west, and there was land enough east, especially after the Plague killed so many.
    “But ever since I can remember, well before Prince Barden took his expedition west of the mountains, there’ve been those who’ve grumbled that all the land Hawk Haven has is used up. We’ve never been a sea power—not like Bright Bay or Waterland. We’ve won a bit of land from time to time from Bright Bay, but they’ve always taken it back—sometimes taking a bit from us for a while.”
    Firekeeper nodded. She’d been drilled in the history of that conflict the summer before.
    “When Prince Barden went west—I was six or seven at the time, old enough to remember the scandal perfectly—not everyone agreed with King Tedric’s anger. There were those who were ready to follow the prince, just as soon as the fuss died down. I’ll tell you, most people thought that within a few moonspans—a year at most—the prince would have made peace with his father.
    “But nothing was heard from Prince