Free Dragon's Egg by Sarah L. Thomson Page A

ground, one hand on his shoulder, the other clamped around one wrist. With his free hand, Roger scrabbled up a handful of dirt and gravel and threw it in Alain’s face.
    Alain simply turned his head aside to shield his eyes and shifted his grasp from Roger’s shoulder to his wrist. “Anyone would think you’d learned your fighting in the gutter,” he said mildly. “Quite enough of this.” Getting to his feet, he yanked Roger up as easily as if the boy were a doll stuffed with rags. With one hand twisted in the neck of Roger’s tunic, pulling it tight enough to cut off his breath, Alain dragged his captive back toward thewagon. Choking, Roger stumbled after Alain, unable to do more than pull at his collar, trying desperately to loosen it.
    Mella felt as if something were clamped around her own throat. Stop it. You’re hurting him! She bit back her foolish words. Of course Alain was hurting Roger; that was the point. The dragon hidden behind her lashed her tail angrily as Alain came near. The tail spike pricked Mella’s arm.
    Alain threw Roger facedown in the dirt and knelt beside him, pinning the boy with a knee in the small of his back. Pulling the long silk scarf from around his neck, he used it to tie Roger’s hands behind him.
    He wasn’t looking at Mella. Why should he? Roger was the prize, the one he wanted. The wild dragon under the cart had gone still, huddling close to the earth.
    Mella twisted around as much as the rope holding her to the wagon wheel would allow. “Hush,” she breathed. “Hush, stay still, hush now….”
    â€œI did warn you,” Alain said. Roger, his face inthe dirt, made a muffled sound as his captor yanked the knot around his wrists tight. “If you’d done as you were told, we might all have been spared this unpleasantness.”
    Mella didn’t know if the dragon understood her or not. Probably not. The creature stayed still out of instinct, hoping danger would pass her by unnoticed, and didn’t stir even as Mella began to rub the cords around her wrists against the sharp tail spike.
    One strand gave. Two. Three.
    â€œYou’ve no one to blame for this but yourself,” Alain told Roger as he used the boy’s own belt to tie his ankles together. “There. A night spent like that may teach you to obey your elders.”
    The last cord snapped. Mella’s hands were free.
    Roger, squirming to get his face up off the ground, lifted his chin and saw Mella twisting around to work on the ropes that held her to the wagon wheel.
    â€œI’ll make it next time,” he said hoarsely, rolling over and struggling to sit up. “You’re a fool tothink this will work. Someone will come after me. And—and you—”
    Keep talking! Mella thought, as if she could shout the words into Roger’s mind. She tugged frantically at the rope. The cord was thin, the knots tight.
    â€œSuch defiance.” Sitting back on his heels, studying Roger, Alain smiled. “Really, it’s not quite what I expected.”
    â€œAnd you can’t—you don’t even know enough—” Roger was clearly running out of ideas. Alain frowned.
    â€œYou’re stupid!” Roger burst out wildly. “A smuggler, I bet. A criminal. You’ll never be able to—”
    â€œOh, for pity’s sake. Another?”
    Just as the knot gave way under Mella’s fingers, Alain, with a sigh as though he were losing patience at last, got to his feet. In two long steps he was at the wagon, his hand around Mella’s upper arm, lifting her clear off the ground.
    â€œYou’ve picked up some bad habits from yourfriend,” he said. “It seems you need a lesson in obedience as well.”
    Mella felt as if her arm would snap off at the shoulder. She kicked wildly. Alain laughed. The dragon hidden under the cart dashed out and sank her teeth into the back of Alain’s knee.
    With a