Free The Coming of Dragons: No. 1 (Darkest Age) by A. J. Lake

shadows.
    Edmund went over to Elspeth, who was staring at the sword as if she couldn’t quite believe what she saw. The shimmering silver gauntlet and the crystal blade were fading, leaving only a faint glow around her hand.
    ‘How did you do that?’ he asked.
    ‘I’m not sure,’ she said, clenching and unclenching her hand as the last whisper of light vanished. ‘It … it just appeared. I didn’t know what to do with it.’ She gave a small, nervous laugh. ‘It’s lucky the thieves didn’t know that!’
    ‘You should learn to fight with it properly,’ Edmund told her. ‘You might need to, if we’re in as much danger as Aagard said.’
    Elspeth looked down at her hand again and didn’t reply.
    ‘Awake and wandering in the moonlight, I see.’ The voice came out of the dark and Edmund jumped. Cluaran was strolling towards them, his harp case on his back. The minstrel stopped when he saw his pack undone, its contents spilled out. ‘What’s this?’ he demanded. ‘Why have you disturbed my belongings?’
    ‘We were attacked by thieves,’ Edmund said. ‘I needed a weapon.’
    ‘You searched in vain, then,’ the man said. ‘My knife and bow travel with me always.’ It sounded as if he didn’t care they had been forced to fight for their lives, but then he beckoned them over to the fire and sat down with his legs crossed.
    ‘You’d better tell me what happened,’ he said. His gaze was as dark as the shadows around them when he looked as Elspeth. ‘I want to know everything.’
    Edmund told him about the attack, keeping the tale as brief as possible and saying nothing of his Ripente skills – nor of the sword. Aagard had warned him and Elspeth to trust only each other, and he saw no reason to tell Cluaran about the gifts that had been forced upon them since the storm. The minstrel listened without comment, only darting occasional glances at Elspeth while she sat in silence, absently rubbing her hand.
    When Edmund had finished speaking, Cluaran looked at each of them sharply. ‘So you saw them off, using nothing but a pair of torches?’
    Edmund thought he heard mocking disbelief in the minstrel’s tone. ‘It was as I told you,’ he snapped.
    ‘And you, Elspeth?’ Cluaran pressed. ‘You’re not hurt?’
    Elspeth’s restless fingers stilled and she looked up, shaking her head in a gesture that was half a shrug. Edmund willed her to say nothing about the sword. She met the minstrel’s gaze and said, ‘Yes. It was just as Edmund said.’
    Cluaran stared into the fire. After a time he said, ‘It seems to me that I should stay with you a while longer. You both have homes in the eastern kingdoms, you said? If you’re planning to walk there across Dunmonia and Wessex, you’ll need protection. You clearly have a way of attracting trouble.’
    ‘We can manage very well alone,’ Edmund said hotly, wishing for an instant that they
had
told the minstrel about the sword – the man’s dismissal of them as helpless children was unbearable. ‘We didn’t need you tonight!’ he pointed out.
    ‘You were lucky, that’s all. Do you want to trust to luck for the entire journey?’
    ‘He’s right,’ Elspeth said unexpectedly. Edmund frowned at her, but she went on: ‘Aagard made us promise to ask Cluaran for help, and he knows more about this journey than you do!’
    Cluaran frowned. ‘What exactly did Aagard make you promise?’
    ‘That we would ask for your protection,’ Elspeth said steadily. ‘In the name of the one who never died.’
    Cluaran leaped to his feet, his eyes blazing. He suddenly looked much taller, and Elspeth shrank back.
    ‘He told you that?’ he demanded.
    She nodded, too frightened to speak.
    ‘Do you know of whom he was speaking? Tell me truthfully.’
    Elspeth shook her head. ‘I do not,’ she vowed.
    ‘Nor I,’ said Edmund.
    Cluaran blinked and some of the rage faded from his gaze. Edmund wondered why it was so important to him that they should not have