Free The First Dragoneer by M. R. Mathias Page A

surviving a dragon attack, you’ll make
Forester this year for certain. You’ll be a King’s Ranger before
you know it!”
    Before you could become a King’s Ranger you
had to be a Forester for two full years. Outside of performing a
“rare feat of notability,” -- one that was worthy enough to find
the king’s ear -- the only way to make Forester was to place in the
archery competition or to kill the stag in the hunt at the annual
Solstice Day festival on King’s Island.
    Jenka tried to smile. He had been training
for both events most of his life, he had just never had the coin to
get himself ship’s passage across to King’s Island. This year he
had finally saved enough, but now he probably wouldn’t need it.
This was definitely a “rare feat of notability” and since it
involved a dragon, the king would most likely hear about it. Since
Master Kember had helped save Prince Richard from the trolls the
day Jenka’s father died, the king would listen to anything Master
Kember had to say.
    Jenka decided right then and there that if
he was going to keep a good part of what really happened here to
himself, then he might as well lightly embellish the rest of the
story to protect Jade. “I think I got the dragon in the brow,” he
wheezed. “The trolls tried to scavenge my kill. I tried to stop
them, but the dragon came tearing through. It was as dark as the
forest itself and fast as lightning, but I think I got lucky and
got it in the eye. Tell the Rangers to look for a black-scaled wyrm
with only one eye.”
    “That’s my boy, Jenk.” Master Kember praised
proudly as he used a kerchief and water from a canteen to wipe some
of the gore from Jenka’s face. “I bet you did get it in the eye. I
bet that’s why it fled, isn’t it?”
    “I don’t know,” Jenka coughed some more. “My
head hurts, and I can’t remember everything that happened. It’s all
jumbled up in my mind.”
    “Just rest, boy. Don’t try to talk, or even
think right now,” Master Kember spoke soothingly. He saw that the
wound on the side of Jenka’s face was already healing, but he paid
the unnatural phenomenon no mind. “We’ll get some hands to haul you
up out of this ditch, and a travois to drag you home so that your
witchy mother can fill you full of her herbs and her horrible
tasting potions and whatnot.”
    While they waited for help, Master Kember
went over the scene again. He saw that something heavy had stepped
on and smashed Jenka’s long bow. He decided that maybe he would
take the boy down to Three Forks and help him pick out a new bow.
He figured Jenka was growing and needed a heavier draw now anyway.
He then decided that as soon as Jenka healed a little bit he would
take him all the way to King’s Island. There he would get an
audience with King Blanchard and tell him firsthand of what
happened here so that the gossipmongers didn’t get the tale
stretched out too far. A knot began to form in his gut telling him
it might not be the right thing to do, that he had some heavy
decision making to do soon. Jenka’s father probably hadn’t wanted
his son to be a mere King’s Ranger. It was a short-lived profession
for most, but a well-paid one. Either way, it had always been
Jenka’s dream, and Master Kember was sure that Jenka’s father would
have wanted him to be happy. He would think on the matter, and he
and Jenka could talk about it later.
    “Master Kember!” a distant voice shouted.
Jenka figured it was Solman and probably Rikky too. Grondy wouldn’t
be with them because of his hand. Jenka knew Grondy would have
tried to come look for him with the others, but his ma would have
corralled him in the farm house, and then thumped him good for the
effort. Jenka started to chuckle because he was certain that he was
right. Grondy was probably locked in his room this very moment,
rubbing the knots on his head and wondering if Jenka was all
right.
    Jenka was surprised that it didn’t hurt when
he laughed. He poked at