shoulder and pressed a gold talon into his hand. He had been a good worker, and Boris hoped that moving into the palace meant he would receive better pay and living conditions than what the Guard was able to provide. He left the smiling boy behind and climbed the stairs to the royal chambers.
It had been many weeks since he’d last seen Erik and he wanted to at least pay his respects one last time. As he approached the chamber door two unfamiliar guards leaned lazily against the wall. One put out a hand on Boris’ chest and stopped him. The man needed a shave and his hair was oily and unclean, obviously one of Tirate’s men.
Shoving the dirty hand aside, Boris narrowed his eyes. “I’m here to see the king; I’m his adviser Captain Knight Boris.”
The guard sniffed and rubbed his grubby nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t care who ya are, nobody gets to see the king ‘cept Lord Tirate.”
Boris raised an eyebrow. So the dispersing of the Dragon Knights was not the only thing that changed. Only Tirate was allowed to see the king?
Boris thumped the man in the chest with a finger. “You go announce to his Highness the King that his adviser is here. Now. If he refuses to see me, I’ll leave.”
The two guards looked at each other for a moment and the oily-haired man squinted at him, sizing him up. “ Boris is it? Lord Tirate sent word that ya might come, he wants to see ya. I’ll show you to his quarters.”
Boris crossed his arms menacingly. “I will see the king first, then talk to Tirate when I’m done.”
The two men exchanged glances once more, and one went sprinting down the hall. Before the other man could move Boris pushed past him, slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind him, twisting the lock with a satisfying click. It wouldn’t hold the man out for long, but it would at least delay him for a bit. He hurried across the chambers knowing if he wanted to speak with Erik, he had to make it fast. Already he could hear the man’s fists pounding against the door.
From across the room he could see the pale face of the king as he lay in a large canopy bed against the wall. He approached from the side and stopped to kneel with his fist against his chest.
“My king. It is your adviser, Boris.”
The king opened his eyes slowly, barely turning his head. “Ah, Boris, my friend! I am glad to see you. Few come to my bedside these past few months. I thought I might pass on without seeing your face again!”
Boris raised his head and looked at his friend. His face was ashen and his eyes sunken and dull. The once-strong body was now reduced to skin and bones.
“My king, your nephew Tirate has refused anyone audience with you. He even posted guards at your door to try to prevent me from entering. I…forced my way past.”
The king’s thin gray eyebrows rose and he chuckled weakly. “Yes, I wouldn’t think a few guards would ever stop you from doing anything you had a mind to do. So, he refused my own adviser? Boris, that man has no honor. Even as a child he was wicked, and I prayed he would change. But now, I suppose it doesn’t matter. He is the only heir to the throne, and now that he has a dragon, once I’m gone, the kingdom belongs to him.”
Boris touched the king’s hand. “Sire, that is why I’ve come to speak to you. He has not linked to a dragon! He sent me off to chase after a boy tender that accidentally linked to a mutant dragon. He plans to sever that link and claim the mutant as his own until it dies so he can take the throne.”
The king’s eyes widened. “Sever a link? How? By killing the boy? And how is it possible this tender became linked?”
A loud crash signaled the entrance of the guard as he finally broke through the door. Rising, Boris turned to face the oily-haired guard as he burst into the room. A sneer spread across the guard’s face as he drew his sword.
“Lord Tirate will be pleased to have you delivered to him, dead or alive!”
Boris pulled his own sword
It had been many weeks since he’d last seen Erik and he wanted to at least pay his respects one last time. As he approached the chamber door two unfamiliar guards leaned lazily against the wall. One put out a hand on Boris’ chest and stopped him. The man needed a shave and his hair was oily and unclean, obviously one of Tirate’s men.
Shoving the dirty hand aside, Boris narrowed his eyes. “I’m here to see the king; I’m his adviser Captain Knight Boris.”
The guard sniffed and rubbed his grubby nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t care who ya are, nobody gets to see the king ‘cept Lord Tirate.”
Boris raised an eyebrow. So the dispersing of the Dragon Knights was not the only thing that changed. Only Tirate was allowed to see the king?
Boris thumped the man in the chest with a finger. “You go announce to his Highness the King that his adviser is here. Now. If he refuses to see me, I’ll leave.”
The two guards looked at each other for a moment and the oily-haired man squinted at him, sizing him up. “ Boris is it? Lord Tirate sent word that ya might come, he wants to see ya. I’ll show you to his quarters.”
Boris crossed his arms menacingly. “I will see the king first, then talk to Tirate when I’m done.”
The two men exchanged glances once more, and one went sprinting down the hall. Before the other man could move Boris pushed past him, slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind him, twisting the lock with a satisfying click. It wouldn’t hold the man out for long, but it would at least delay him for a bit. He hurried across the chambers knowing if he wanted to speak with Erik, he had to make it fast. Already he could hear the man’s fists pounding against the door.
From across the room he could see the pale face of the king as he lay in a large canopy bed against the wall. He approached from the side and stopped to kneel with his fist against his chest.
“My king. It is your adviser, Boris.”
The king opened his eyes slowly, barely turning his head. “Ah, Boris, my friend! I am glad to see you. Few come to my bedside these past few months. I thought I might pass on without seeing your face again!”
Boris raised his head and looked at his friend. His face was ashen and his eyes sunken and dull. The once-strong body was now reduced to skin and bones.
“My king, your nephew Tirate has refused anyone audience with you. He even posted guards at your door to try to prevent me from entering. I…forced my way past.”
The king’s thin gray eyebrows rose and he chuckled weakly. “Yes, I wouldn’t think a few guards would ever stop you from doing anything you had a mind to do. So, he refused my own adviser? Boris, that man has no honor. Even as a child he was wicked, and I prayed he would change. But now, I suppose it doesn’t matter. He is the only heir to the throne, and now that he has a dragon, once I’m gone, the kingdom belongs to him.”
Boris touched the king’s hand. “Sire, that is why I’ve come to speak to you. He has not linked to a dragon! He sent me off to chase after a boy tender that accidentally linked to a mutant dragon. He plans to sever that link and claim the mutant as his own until it dies so he can take the throne.”
The king’s eyes widened. “Sever a link? How? By killing the boy? And how is it possible this tender became linked?”
A loud crash signaled the entrance of the guard as he finally broke through the door. Rising, Boris turned to face the oily-haired guard as he burst into the room. A sneer spread across the guard’s face as he drew his sword.
“Lord Tirate will be pleased to have you delivered to him, dead or alive!”
Boris pulled his own sword
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