Free The Last Dragonlord by Joanne Bertin

around the moon as I came back from watering the horses. We’ll have a heavy frost by morning if nothing worse.”
    “Yes,” Bryony answered. “Fresh from the chest and still sweet with the lavender I packed them in. Here—smell.”
    He breathed deeply as he tucked the blankets around the boy lying in the small bed. The scent clinging to the wool was sweet, clean.
    “Goodnight, boyo,” he said, and kissed Ash’s forehead, turning his cheek for the child’s kiss before stepping aside.
    He watched Bryony kneel by the side of the bed. As much as he’d grown to love his stepson, he wanted little ones of his own. He imagined making more little beds, just like the one he’d made for Ash.
    But so far he and Bryony had had no luck. Maybe tonight …
    Instead the marriage had ended after festering like a tainted wound. Linden closed his mind to the remembered pain of Bryony’s mocking words, chosen to hurt as much as possible.
    Mule. Linden-half a-man. If only he’d known then …
    Rann lifted his head and Linden came back to the present. He waited while Rann hiccuped once or twice, collecting himself.
    “Do you really want to be here, lad?” Linden asked.
    Rann hesitated. Linden watched him struggle with his answer. Finally he said, “No, Dragonlord. Some of them are saying bad things about my—my mama and papa.” Rann swallowed a sob. “Uncle Peridaen doesn’t think I should be here either.”
    “So why are you here?”
    Rann shifted. “Because Uncle Beren said I should be, that it’s my future to be decided.”
    Linden started at hearing Kief’s reasoning echoed. He struggled to put aside his earlier suspicions. Commendable perhaps, he thought, but hard on the child.
    Then Rann leaned in to whisper, “I’d really rather be outside with my wolfhound Bramble—and Gevianna, my nurse.”
    Linden grinned, wondering what Gevianna would think of coming after a wolfhound in Rann’s listing. He asked, “What about your playmates?”
    Rann shook his head. “There are only servants’ children in the palace now. And Uncle Peridaen says it’s beneath me to play with them.”
    Linden’s eyebrow went up. Oh, really? he thought. The hell it is; if it’s not beneath a Dragonlord, it’s not beneath a prince. “I know two little boys I think you’d like to play with—”
    Rann’s tired face lit up.
    Linden cursed himself for an idiot, getting the boy excited like that. He finished, “But they’re too far away.”
    The boy nodded and drooped in Linden’s arms, the happy light gone from his eyes.
    This princeling needed some playmates. Linden vowed that somehow or another he’d find them for Rann. But for now, he wanted the boy well away from this squabbling.
    He mindspoke the others. I want Rann out. This is no place for a child.
    Tarlna said, His uncle has asked that he be here—
    And the other one doesn’t want him here! Kief, you are the eldest, our leader. For pity’s sake, spare the boy this, will you? Linden pleaded.
    Heavy regret tinted Kief’s mindvoice even as he said, If the majority of the council wants him here, Linden, he must—
    Linden roared, The council be damned! I will not have it! If you won’t back me up in this, I shall return to Dragonskeep. I will not be a party to this child’s suffering. Even when I was a mercenary I never harmed a child. I certainly won’t start now.
    You take a great deal upon yourself, Tarlna said. Her mind voice was cold. The Lady will not be pleased.
    The Lady may discipline me as she sees fit. Now—will you stand with me in this?
    He felt the other two withdraw. He bit his lip, waiting, forcing himself not to argue further.
    At last Kief said, Knowing what a stubborn wretch you
are, I don’t suppose we’ve much choice, have we? Very well, Linden. Tarlna and I will stand with you. I must admit the child doesn’t look well. Perhaps it’s for the best he’s out of this.
    Linden strode back to the table as Kief announced, “We feel that Prince Rann is