Free The White Dragon by Salvador Mercer Page A

breath.
    “My sentiments exactly,” Diamedes added.
     

     
    “So they have left.” The question was actually a statement.
    “Yes, Amora,” Kirost said, watching the Ulathans descend the mountain. “Why did you dispel our concealment? I am sure the last two saw me.”
    “They did,” Amora said, dropping his enchantment completely, and his body shimmered from out of thin air as he became visible next to his companion. “The meddling historian had been on to us days ago.”
    “How is that possible?”
    “I do not know, but he has the ability to see through my spells. Simply letting him see you this time, in plain sight, will confuse him with our intentions.”
    “And the Ulathans?” Kirost finally took his eyes off the departing column to look at the mage.
    “They are stupid and foolish and suspect nothing. Everything is going as planned,” Amora declared confidently.
    “News from Kelee?” Kirost asked, referring to his fellow wizard.
    “He is with our raiders and ready for our next move,” the mage answered.
    “Too bad the winter wolves became aware of our presence. I did not expect them to attack the Ulathans.”
    “Yes, too bad, indeed.”
    “Where are they going?” Kirost looked over his shoulder and saw the last of the white wolves over a league distant already, running south.
    Amora allowed his eyes to follow the same path, seeing the wolf as well. “They are running to alert their mistress, the dragon.”
    Kirost looked at his old mentor. “Then what?”
    “Then we bring them together.” Amora returned his gaze to his former pupil. “As I said, everything is going according to plan.”
    Both Kesh smiled and watched the last wolf disappear far below.

Chapter 6
 

 
 
 
Fist
     
    The trip back was uneventful as the group neither saw nor heard signs of the white wolves. Eric tried hard to catch a glimpse of the Kesh, but that didn’t happen either. Justiciar Corwin was upset at the loss of his troops, but resigned to the fact that the wilds were simply getting wilder in this day and age. Burial arrangements with full honors were scheduled, and the trial was postponed with the news of the ambush and findings of their expedition. Eric was to be given thirty days to prove his innocence, and time was running short.
    “Don’t move, you’ll rip the stitching again,” Mary said, dabbing at the blood on Eric’s neck as he sat on a wooden chair in the middle of his room.
    “It won’t do us any good,” Lucius said, pacing the room at the Peak Inn, the same one that Eric had awoken to find himself in. Old man Frankel was an honorable innkeeper, and Eric’s lodgings were paid for an entire fortnight, as well as his care, and the innkeeper insisted on delivering in full for services paid.
    Mary looked at the pacing man. “You can sit still too, for a change. It’s hard enough to care for Eric without having you distracting my work. Besides, I hope you both can forgive us for what happened.”
    Eric laid a free hand on Mary’s arm as she stood behind him. “Nothing to forgive. The magistrate was out of line, and I’m grateful for the lodgings and care.”
    Mary smiled at Eric. “You’ll never know how upset Master Frankel was the last few days. He really felt bad at having to bear witness in your case. A tragedy , he called it.”
    “Let him know I’m fine with it,” Eric said. “Now what are you hooting about over there?”
    Lucius stopped his pacing for a moment to turn to the pair, ignoring the small historian in the corner at the fancy desk with a quill and paper. “I was saying that the reprieve won’t do us any good.”
    “Why not?” Eric asked, wincing as Mary poured a small amount of alcohol in his wound, cleaning the skin and stitches.
    “Because, if you don’t find this white beast of yours, then you’ll be convicted of something, if not outright treason and murder, and if you do find the dragon, then we’ll be burying an empty coffin with your name etched into a