Dragon Eye

Dragon Eye

  A Roane Publishing Free Read

  by Anna Simpson

  www.RoanePublishing.com

  © Copyright 2014 Anna Simpson

  Cover Artist: Rebecca Hart

  Editor: Rebecca Hart

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Two blue moons ride the darkened sky, one the ghost of Dragon Eye.

  Coming on duty, Recser, the scarred captain of the guard, walked the halls of the castle, the hard soles of his boots slapping the stone floor as he proceeded to the throne room. Using the shaft of his spear as a walking stick, he hurried along the darkening corridor. He stopped at the thick double doors, straightened the leather on his thinning shoulders, and moved his spear to the other hand. With a practiced motion, he tapped the butt of the spear against the golden wood of the doors.

  Two of the royal guard opened the doors from the inside.

  The king on his throne looked up from his reading. A plain man of medium build, he sat on a platform to give him height. Some said he was a strong man, other's called him a warrior because of the long black braids that hung from under his simple crown down to his waist. Dark, black eyes sparkled above his beaded beard. Waving the deep green of this cloak aside, he leaned forward, using his knee to rest an elbow.

  The old man hit his fist against his chest plating in a formal salute.

  "Everyone out." The king dropped the pages he was reading and let them fall like autumn leaves to his sandaled feet.

  When the doors were secured, and they were alone, he asked, "Do you have it?"

  The captain's gloved fingers freed the pouch on his belt. "Yes, sire."

  Snapping his fingers, the dark king rose and stepped down from his platform. Rushing to the old guard, he snatched up the pouch and opened it.

  The king poured the blue, glittering sand upon his open palm. "This is just dust." Examining the substance carefully, he ran a finger through the small pile, fishing out a bigger stone. "When will they all look like this?"

  Stuck to his fingertip was a uncut sapphire of midnight blue.

  "She is small yet." Leather squeaked as the guard struggled to stay at attention, shifting his weight upon aching feet. "They will grow bigger as she does."

  "Sapphires?" He held the dust toward the torchlight. "More like blue sand.” He squinted at his palm. “They are so small."

  "I believe that is what they are, but I'm not the royal gem dealer."

  "This doesn't pay for all she consumes," the king said, carefully replacing the dust in the pouch. "How long is this going to take?"

  "Sire, may I speak my mind?" The old guard transferred his tired weight from one foot to the other.

  Nodding, the king waved an arm and paced the carpet, clasping his hands behind his back. The pouch was gone.

  "My king, Rory is young. Only fifty in dragon years. She is not yet a teen. They are the most noble of creatures, but unfortunately, slow to mature. Her long life will equal many human generations. And, her magic…she glows with it."

  "I need it now," the king said, hitting his fist into is open palm.

  "Of course, sire. I know something that may help. I used some dust I in an experiment."

  The king gaped like a cod, his cheeks flushing.

  The captain hurried on. "I suspected this dust had powers of its own. I saw evidence of such. So, I took a small plant from the royal gardens and sprinkled a tiny, almost invisible amount on the plant. Overnight, it thriced in size. If we use the dust, the fields with flourish and be prosperous again."

  "The dust could…what? Save us?" He played with the beads in his beard.

  "Have early crops to sell at the other markets and return some well deserved money to the treasury."

  The king sighed, making it clear he’d grown bored with the discussion.

  "We have known each other for most of my life. I have no desire to test you, sire. And, she will surely grow as all living creatures are meant to. Rory can save us, and make us greater than all the surrounding kingdoms combined." The old guard leaned heavily on his spear shaft, giving up on standing erect. "What is required now is patience."

  "Silence. This beast eats its weight in food daily, with no return of note. I've taxed the people into poverty to keep the creature healthy. The treasury is out of resources. Get some decent jewels off of her. Cut off her tail, or leg, or better yet, one of those enormous wings. She doesn’t' need them to live."

  "Sire—"

  "Enough!" The king dropped onto his throne, and retrieved the pages he had dropped. "Do as I say or you'll be seeing your family sooner than you planned."

  Tthe captain brought his fist to his chest with a thud and backed into the great doors. With a tap, the guards opened the double doors, eying the old man as he walked away.