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By Cathy Brunson Chapter One, continued Lord Regor rested his elbow on the top rail of the frigate, and let his hand dangle over the side. While he listened to the droning engines of the airships, he angled his hand upward and then downward, catching the warm wind. His forearm flapped as if he were flying. Soon I’ll wreak vengeance on those who killed my son, he thought. Then memories of soaring together with Kiril high above the ramparts of Fallgard Castle flashed through his mind. Lord Regor jerked his arm inward as grief flooded through him. His hand slipped into the pouch on his belt and gathered an object stored there. He brought out an enameled pin and began rubbing it with his fingers as his surroundings blurred. The pin brought back memories of the friend who had given it to him, stirring up an older sadness. This friend had brought hope, and then he had vanished, taking hope with him. Lord Regor put the gift back in his pouch. At first Lord Regor had anticipated this day. Now that he was on course through the inner wastelands of the continent, this trip felt like a knife blade scraping an open wound.
Seeking a diversion, Lord Regor thought about the other problems that were
plaguing him.
Also, Lord Regor sensed that something was wrong with his daughter. Instead of telling him what it was, she would erupt in tantrums whenever he asked. In addition, the due date for the early call option on his first loan was drawing close. Lord Regor’s muscles tightened. He decided he couldn’t stand thinking about this problem right now. He buried it. A sound interrupted his thoughts. Lord Regor opened his eyes and saw Dr. Olan, his medical director, walking forward. The doctor folded his long legs and sat down on the seat beside Lord Regor. This was Dr. Olan’s first dragon hunt. After the doctor fastened his seat belt, he gazed at Lord Regor with brown hound dog eyes. “Are you having a problem, Your Grace?” “No, I’m well.” Dr. Olan considered a moment as his eyes searched for telltale signs of illness. “If you do need me, just call me.” He put his hands on the buckle of the seat belt. “Stay here.” Lord Regor was still feeling the absence of his son, and he did not wish to be alone. “Yes, Your Grace.” Lord Regor closed his eyes a moment. “It’s a great responsibility leading the expedition, isn’t it?” Opening his eyes, Lord Regor saw compassion on the man’s face and he could sense the doctor’s concern. He was grateful for the distraction. “Yes. But it’s also a great honor.” An expensive honor, he thought. “I was quite surprised when the Lord Benefactor chose me to lead this hunt.” “I wasn’t. In just sixteen years, you’ve turned a wilderness area into a productive realm.” “That may be, but I’m still the newest duke. I’ve participated in only a couple of hunts.” “Perhaps the Lord Benefactor thought upon your leadership of his armed forces and decided you could succeed where the other dukes have failed.” “We’ll see.” The dragons were becoming unapproachable, he thought. Lord Regor remembered the past cool season, when the last hunting party had returned without any kills. He and his wife, Ni, were visiting with her relatives, at the castle of the Duke of Cambridge. Everyone swarmed outside when sentries announced the return of the airships. When he looked at the sky, Lord Regor spotted the Lord Benefactor’s yacht and escort ships approaching from the south, engines running at full revolutions.
The Planetary Director landed outside the curtain walls just as the hunting
party landed there. The Lord Benefactor stomped over to the returning noblemen
and screamed at them, his face turning bright red.
He closed his eyes, shutting out the shameful scene. Lord Regor knew that walking away from the Lord Benefactor would offend him. During the tirade, Lord Regor felt humiliation flowing from the members of the hunt. Fortunately, Lord Regor felt nothing at all from the Lord Benefactor, as usual. Altogether, the return of the hunting party had been a thoroughly unpleasant affair. Now Lord Regor saw a pensive look on Dr. Olan’s face. “Are we doing the right thing by hunting the dragons?” Before his son’s death, Lord Regor had asked himself the same thing. He even admired the grace and power of the dragons. No longer did he do so. Lord Regor lowered his eyebrows and tightening his jaws. “Yes.” “But why do we hunt the dragons?” “Because the dragons are vermin.” Dr. Olan’s eyes filled with doubt. “How do you know, Your Grace?” Lord Regor would not tolerate another man asking him this. However, Dr. Olan had saved Kiril’s life after he was born. The doctor had saved Lord Regor’s life as well. “I’ve seen the document that classifies the dragons as vermin. It contains a commission order requiring all dukes and their sworn men to hunt them.” “Did the current Lord Benefactor draw up this order?” “No. The paper bears the signatures and seals of all the planetary directors. And the date proves the document was produced shortly after the first landing on this planet.” Uncertainty filled the doctor’s lean face. “I know you and the Lord Benefactor are close. But what if he is wrong? What if they’re all wrong?” “His Excellency is my friend, but he is also my overlord. I must obey his commands.” Dr. Olan chewed his lip as he thought. “Even if the command is a wrong one?”
“Lord Benefactor Seaval only gives proper commands.”
© 2003 Cathy Brunson.
All Rights Reserved.
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Award Winning Publication |
Award Winning Publication |
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