The Caged Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 1) by Dan Michaelson (miss read books .txt) 📗

Straightening, I looked over to the barn, and the pen with the livestock. Not only close to the home, but it had been close to the animals. That was our livelihood. I’d chased wolves away from the livestock many times over the years, but none this size. If the wolf had come this close to the house I would have to track it down.

This would have been a job for my father and my brother. I didn’t mind, but still wished I had a chance to know more than the farm—not that I’d ever share that with my sister or mother. This was my responsibility now. My task.

I followed the pawprint. I didn’t have to go far before I found another. Farther than I would’ve expected, though. The wolf had a massive gait that chewed up the distance. Maybe that was all it was. I wasn’t a skilled tracker, not like my brother had been.

The pawprints took a meandering path as they headed up the hillside. When I was on the other side of it, the only evidence of the farm in the distance was the thin trail of smoke still rising. I was far enough away now that I didn’t expect to see the wolf. It seemed to have head back toward the forest. I looked out into the distance, but didn’t see any other movement. There was no sign of the wolf. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. With a wolf this size, I wasn’t sure I wanted to encounter it with only my bow. Still, it would have little trouble tearing through our herd.

I had quite a bit of work to still do today, and didn't have the time to worry about the unknown. As I reached the top of the hill heading back toward the house a tall, slender figure in a deep green cloak caught my attention. They were coming from Berestal.

Travelers along the King’s Road weren’t uncommon, but it was rare to see someone that I didn’t recognize. Especially a single traveler. There were rumors that some traveled through the dense jungle of the Wilds, though doing so was dangerous. The creatures living there were said to be worse than the camin that wandered the forest near my home, and though there were no Djarn, the natives were ruthless hunters, quick to slaughter anyone who came through their lands.

The man must have seen me , as he turned, veering off the road and making his way toward me. Had he gone a little further, he would’ve reached the farmhouse, so in that respect I didn’t mind that he made his way toward me. Normally, we had plenty of notice if somebody approached the house from the King’s Road.

He wore a long leather overcoat that looked far too hot for the weather, though it might provide some shelter from the rain. A wide, brimmed hat perched on his head that tilted slightly forward, hiding his face. As he approached, the overcoat shifted, and I caught sight of the hilt of a sword underneath his coat.

It was possible he was one of the Vard, but he didn’t have the look of those who sympathized with the Vard in Berestal. They tended to have a triangular symbol with a crescent moon over it. His skin was dark, but it was more suntanned than olive. He had a scruffy brown beard, not the deep black of the Vard I had encountered over the years. But more than that, the Vard never traveled alone.

The man stopped about a dozen paces from me. “Can I help you?” I asked.

He tipped his head back just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They flickered over to the farmhouse before looking back to me. “You live out here?”

“It’s my family farm,” I said.

The man nodded. “You live here long?”

“My whole life,” I said.

The man nodded. “It’s a bit isolated.”

“Not too much,” I said. “A half a day’s ride at best to Berestal. Close enough to the forest to make life interesting, and there are plenty of other farmers out on the plains.” We were one of the few who had land so close to the King’s Road. It helped make it easier for us to transport our goods into the city, but it also meant that we had travelers like this.

“What kind of livestock do you have?”

What kind of a question was that? “Nothing for sale,” I said.

The man pulled his hat off, wiping his sleeve across his face. He had faint wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and long, lanky brown hair. “You have a long walk if you’re heading through the forest to the capital,” I said.

The man regarded me for a moment. “Long enough.” He wiped his arm across his forehead again, before turning and sweeping his gaze around him. “Have you seen anything strange around here recently?”

I bit back the first response that came to me, that seeing him was strange, but ultimately just shook my head. “Nothing other than a massive wolf that came through here.”

“Wolf?”

I shrugged. There was no harm in sharing that. “You might need to be careful. I have a feeling it headed toward the forest. Biggest pawprint I’ve ever seen.”

The man nodded slowly. “I’ll be careful.” He popped his hat back on his head. “Say. I don’t suppose you’d know a man by the name of Jaketh? Settled out here a while back. An old friend of mine.”

I shook my head. “There are a lot of people who settled out here,” I said. “Especially when you get closer to Berestal.”

“Not in the city. Outside.”

I shook my head again. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. I wish I could help. How do you know him?”

“We trained together long ago. I thought I might visit him while I was here, but… Well, it was never going to be easy to find him. He disappeared.”

I nodded, not quite sure what he