For the Rebellion

Chapter 3: Arriving in Woodport

Theo stretched his wings wide, gliding high over Eagle Lake. He begrudgingly admitted that the view was spectacular from this height. It wasn't the capital, with its massive city on the peninsula, surrounded by sea on three sides. This was the middle of nowhere, really, but it had a certain rugged beauty.

Far below, he spotted a school of fish beneath the lake's surface. He dove, pulling up just before his hulking dragon form met the surface. His heartbeat accelerated and his thoughts scattered. His talons skimmed along the surface, splitting the water like a ruptured seam.

A gush of wind brushed against his scales. He turned his massive golden head in time to see Amil gliding beside him. Far above, keeping watch over their backs, were Fallon, Idris, and Xander. He'd brought four other drengr with him, the only four he trusted. Some day, he would make them his shields, even if they pretended they already were.

Not that he liked thinking about it. He didn't want to think about being king. There'd be centuries before that might happen. His parents were middle aged. Most drengr lived to be nearly a thousand years old, some a little longer, if their health didn't decline too rapidly in old age.

"I can see the city, due north." Amil's voice sounded in his mind, his words broadcast to everyone in their group. The anatomy of a dragon's mouth didn't allow for audible speech. They could growl and make all sorts of ferocious sounds. But they couldn't form words. Instead, they used telepathy, a handy trick both in dragon and human form.

"It's...bigger than I imagined," he admitted. The city of Woodport materialized on the far shore of the lake. Behind it, as far as the eye could see, clusters of forests. He scanned the shores of the lake and noticed other settlements, smaller, dotting the large body of water.

From above, a throaty bellow split the air, and then another, and another. Fallon, Idris, and Xander were announcing their arrival. They could have simply appeared in the lord's city, at his castle, but it was more polite to announce themselves. He didn't much care about being polite, generally. But it would be good to make a the right impression if he'd be working with Lord Lasker for the next few weeks.

There hadn't been time to send written word. Letters traveled slower than dragon wings. But the king had used the chain of drengr communication to get word to Fort Squall. Woodport was in their territory, after all.

They descended towards the city. He spotted the castle immediately, a hulking edifice of gray stone and wood. A mishmash of both. Below, people began to shout and point. A grin split his draconic lips. Maybe they recognized him. His golden scales would tell them exactly who he was.

He descended, his four following in his wake. As he neared the castle's courtyard, he shifted midair and plummeted the remaining distance, landing gracefully on human feet. The servants in the courtyard scattered, gasping and running for cover.

He grunted, adjusting to the feel of land. It always took him a moment.

Most of the activity in the courtyard had stopped. Behind him, there came the thudding of feet as his four companions landed. He lifted an arm to pick at his sleeve, affecting an air of boredom, and simply stood there waiting. The others did the same.

A minute passed, then two, then three. Finally, a man emerged and rushed forward. "Your Highness! We were not expecting you so soon. Welcome. Welcome!"

"And you are?"

"Oh. Forgive me, Your Highness. Arden, sir—Your Highness. At your service."

"What is your rank and occupation. I was told I'd be meeting Lord Lasker."

"Arden, I'll handle this. You can go." A young man casually strolled from a nearby corridor. His finery was unmistakable. Arden must have been one of the higher positioned servants, or a steward, perhaps? This young man was assuredly nobility, and not much younger than him. Early twenties?