Chapter 27 Complicit
~ DONAVYN ~
“The Draeventhall squad has been eradicated,” Alexi growled.
“It’s confirmed?”
He nodded once, tightly. “Eye-witness reports of three dragon corpses seen in the wake of multiple dragons scorching—including marks that burn feet into the ground. And the same witnesses saw the living dragons fly away, though clearly pained,” the king said grimly. “This is a fucking disaster.”
I sighed. If the dragons killed their riders and hadn’t returned, they weren’t going to.
I took a deep breath and reached for Kgosi, struggling to balance the grief I knew the dragons would carry at this confirmation, and my own sense of satisfaction that the men had been burned out of their boots for what they’d done.
Dragon scorching was a weapon—used against stone and brick.
If it was applied to anything flammable, there would be literally nothing left but ash.
I could only hope those bastards burned slow enough to suffer.
‘Donavyn…’ Kgosi’s warning vibrated in my chest. ‘Carrying a heart of vengeance is drinking poison for your soul.’
I set my teeth. ‘I grieve the dragons. I wish we could bring them back. But I applaud their judgment on those monsters.’
Kgosi didn’t answer, but even standing here, deep in the palace stone walls, we heard the dragon cries rise outside.
High, mournful calls punctuated with blasts and screams from the females, and the deep rumble of the males as they raised their grief to God.
Dragon herds were deeply connected. They celebrated together, grieved together, and fought together. To lose so many dragons in a single blow would be devastating to them—and their bone-deep grief was audible in those cries.
Even with the anger burning in my chest, the sounds brought tears to my eyes.
The dragons didn’t deserve this. Their hearts are so pure—
“The report came from Draeventhall. All neighboring rulers are receiving the same missive—a barely veiled accusation. Yet, even though the king speaks as if they’re all dead, he signs off the notice, vowing to hunt and kill any that are found alive.
It’s possible they aren’t all gone. Or that the dragons might still return? ”
I shook my head. “Doubtful. We know they could have made it back since one did. But the others would be here with Kgosi by now if they’d lived.”
“Has the beast survived?”
“Barely.” Each day I checked in with Kgosi, hoping Ciar showed signs of recovery, or willingness to relieve his burdens. Each day Kgosi growled deeper that something was amiss, and yet, the dragon clung to life by his talons.
“It’s a blow,” Alexi said abruptly. “But nothing can be done except to keep watch in case one of them escaped.”
I stared, waiting for him to curse the loss of the dragons, or bemoan the men who’d been so trusted. But he only sat back and picked up the goblet of wine on the table next to him, glowering at the wall like the news offended him.
“Sire,” I said finally. “It can’t be ignored that if the dragons took this action against their own riders, something was deeply wrong with those men.”
Alexi frowned like I’d interrupted his thoughts.
His gaze cleared and he took another sip from his wine before he answered.
“I do worry that we may be vulnerable. Draeventhall’s notice is precisely what I would expect from an offended ruler, realizing he’s been infiltrated.
But he could be playing the part, just as we are. ”
I nodded. “We do have to ask ourselves if one of those men—or perhaps, more than one—was our mole.”
His nose wrinkled. “They weren’t correctly positioned for the earlier intelligence reports, though I suppose, we can’t ignore the possibility they were working with someone outside our borders.”
“Have you considered that if one of those men was truly treasonous, he may be working with Draeventhall? That all of this is a ruse?”
“You said there was no ruse, that the dragon who returned was clearly stricken.”
“There’s no ruse there—on the dragon’s part. But the men… if one or more of them went to Draeventhall to form alliance, or deepen ties…”
Alexi’s forehead lines deepened. “What happens to a rider who loses their dragon—if the man lives?”
A pit opened in the bottom of my stomach.
It was something we’d all been warned about, though few had ever witnessed.
Even now, there was no rider in living memory who’d survived their dragon.
The dragons were far longer lived, and more powerful.
But there were tales, whispered legends of men who’d been forced to endure the death of their dragons.
And those who’d witnessed the anguish—though strong Furyknights in their own right—couldn’t speak of it without paling.
I’d seen a dragon downed in battle, his Furyknight going down with him, and even though the man survived mere moments longer than his beast, his screams lived on in my nightmares to this day.
“A bonded rider doesn’t live through the loss of their dragon,” I said emphatically.
“If the dragons are dead, their men are too.” Then I met Alexi’s dark gaze.
“But if any of them live, we have to ask ourselves whether they are truly for Vosgaarde. The conduct of these men is such that their own dragons have sacrificed themselves to confer judgment. If any of those men are alive… Sire, they can’t be trusted. ”
We know they can’t be trusted. We know they are fiends.
“Perhaps,” the king conceded. “But who knows if the trouble was with the men, or the mission? We’re trusting Draeventhall’s recounting of events. Surely we should question—”
“We have a dragon, dying on our grounds after executing his own rider. We have a team scattered and members reported dead—scorched by their own dragons. Sire, something isn’t right with these men—and I can’t shake that they’ve all been present and central to this effort since we began receiving those confusing reports. ”
The king pursed his lips. “I don’t deny the concern, Donavyn. I only refuse to take everything we know at face value. It’s why I want you in Fyrehold. We need other eyes. Other perspectives. We need to get to the bottom of what’s happening behind our backs.”
“And we will. But if any of those men return while I’m gone, I’m begging you to imprison them immediately and call for my return. We can’t trust them, Alexi.”
“Those men were some of our most skilled. Ruin, in particular, carried our hopes for future leadership.”
“Skill and talent do not automatically infer character, Sire.” I fought not to snarl, to batter down his favoritism.
Swallowed back the story I knew of what these bastards had done.
“We must stop excusing poor behavior as harmless when it leads to harm. Those men were sent to infiltrate and inform, and now they’re dead at the hands—or flames—of our most reliable allies. ”
“Are they?” Alexi asked, arching one brow.
I spluttered. “Yes! The dragons are pure where we humans grow corrupt—”
“You’re assuming the reports we’ve received are true and honest.”
“I trust the dying dragon in the Keep!”
“You said he refuses to give the whole story!”
“Because he’s devastated and dying—not because he works against us.”
Alexi shifted in his seat, frowning. “We cannot trust any report coming from Draeventhall if our men were found out.”
“We also can’t trust any reports from those men until we learn why Ciar was so horrified by their conduct.
Sire, please—either those men were fed lies, or they have been betrayers from the start.
And until we know which it is, we cannot risk giving them any honor or embracing them.
If any of them returns to Vosgaarde, they must be contained! ”
“We need men with the testicular heft and courage to face this kind of challenge—”
“We need men who work for the good of all, not their own selfish ambition or desires. I struggle to understand why we’re arguing about this!”
Alexi’s eyes flashed, warning me that I was close to crossing the line.
“We argue because you assume, based on the patchy report of a sick and injured dragon, that the men are all corrupt. But just months ago, these were the men we trusted above all others. We can’t afford to rewrite history until we have facts. ”
“I know the history of these men—enough,” I growled. “It’s their own conduct that has raised my suspicions—as relayed by a dragon. A far more reliable source than a man.”
“Are you sure of that, Donavyn?”
I gaped. “Are you not?!”
“You said yourself, dragons would never be part of a betrayal, yet here we are.”
I frowned. “If reports are accurate, the dragons attempted to correct a betrayal—”
“That’s a very important if, Donavyn. Because I hear you question the men a great deal.
But what if the ones we should be questioning are the beasts they ride?
What if the dragons have betrayed us? What if that is why your sick dragon doesn’t wish to report, and why he continues to fight for his life?
What if the dragons have killed good men? ”
They aren’t good men! I wanted to scream the words. Wanted to scream at the unfairness of the circumstances that put me here, with proof what he said was incorrect, yet unable to offer it to him.
I had the fleeting thought to convince Bren to let me tell him the story, but I pushed it away. I knew if Alexi heard that tale, he’d immediately question if her recounting of the situation were accurate.
Diaan would listen though.
Then the king’s words clanged in my head and I stopped.
What if the dragons have betrayed us?
It wasn’t possible. Was it?
I hadn’t even considered the possibility that the dragons were complicit. After all, we’d seen the effects on one who returned after killing his own.
But was it possible?
I reached for Kgosi again, whose already deep voice was weighed down with grief.
‘I don’t want to bring this to you, but it has to be asked: is there any chance the dragons were involved, Keg? Is it even possible? Could that be why our friend struggles and refuses to open up to you?’
‘Anything is possible, Donavyn,’ Kgosi intoned.
‘There have been dragons of dark character, though they are rare. And they avoid a Primarch’s authority.
If a dragon were of such black heart as to tolerate what happened to poor Bren, what would he gain by passing judgment on his own rider?
No, I am inclined to believe the man successfully hid his actions from his dragon, and when the dragon found out, his shame and grief at being deceived overwhelmed him. ’
“If Draeventhall knows those men came from Vosgaarde, it’s only a matter of time until they make an alliance to descend on us.
I need you in Fyre now, Donavyn. Find out if they received the same message.
Measure the undercurrent. Listen to those in power—they’ll share with you.
Use Kgosi. The monster is impressive, and it will be much harder for them to deceive him.
Whatever it takes—we need to know who works against us, and who stands at our side. ”
My stomach sank. He was right. “I expect to hear the assessment team has reached Fyrehold tomorrow. I’ll send messengers today. Fliers. They’ll call them to return so that we can enter with the dragons by the end of the week,” I said reluctantly.
Alexi cursed, but waved me off, urging me to see it done as swiftly as possible.
I marched out of the palace, muttering and uneasy.
‘Is there any chance, Kgosi? Any evidence when you look back that those dragonfuries could be dark-hearted? Is it possible that they are in on whatever that squad was doing? That this disappearance is just part of the plan?’
I was surprised when Kgosi didn’t immediately soothe me.
‘I do not know. But I can attest to this: Though our dying friend has not been forthcoming, he has allowed me glimpses of his journey. I can tell you with confidence, that dragon is not a dark heart. But unless others return, I can’t measure them.
And at this point it seems they are either dead, or abandoned us. ’
Dead, if they were honorable.
Fled, if they were not.
‘When we get to Fyrehold, will you be able to measure the dragons there? Will they open their minds to you?’
‘We can only pray so. The choice will be theirs—and will depend on their Primarch. It’s their leadership that I will approach first. But with caution. It is not my place to undermine another Primarch.’
Under other circumstances, I would have chuckled. The idea of Kgosi showing up and not undermining another dragon’s authority was laughable. But I understood his intent.
My dragon was noble and humble, and wouldn’t dominate another leader, simply because he could.
But, dear God, we needed help.
None of this made sense. And I feared being stuck in Fyrehold, dancing with dangerous Courtiers, while the true battle was being fought elsewhere.
‘So, no improvement on our wounded friend?’ I sighed.
‘None,’ Kgosi growled, as if the fact offended him. ‘All I can be certain of is that something isn’t right. I await the Creator’s insight on precisely what bubbles around us.’