At the Queen's Command Read Online Free PDF

the angle between the entry and exit wounds. The thing was charging at the time, much as it is now. “That was quite a shot, Highness.”
    “Two winters ago, very harsh. It got a taste for men, came down hunting. We stalked it.” The Prince blushed. “I missed, despite using a fine rifle given to my father by a Seljuk Calife. Nathaniel dropped it and had his rifle reloaded before it had finished thrashing.”
    “I shall be pleased to meet such a remarkable marksman, Highness.”
    Prince Vlad looked Owen up and down again. “And I shall be interested in seeing what he makes of you, Captain Strake. In fact, I wish I could join you on your expedition.”
    “It would be an honor, Highness.”
    “You’re kind, but I would just slow you down.” The Prince’s face brightened. “But, speaking of honors, I have a favor to ask of you, if I might.”
    “Anything you desire, Highness.”
    “Well then, come with me.” The Prince headed toward the yard. “I’d like to know what you think of my dragon.”
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Chapter Four
     
    April 27, 1763
    Prince Haven
    Temperance Bay, Mystria
     
    O wen followed the Prince outside and down over a vast expanse of lawn gently sloping toward the river. There, just past the dock, half-hidden by a small stand of trees, lay a broad, squat structure. Rough-hewn timber framed it, and uneven boards sided it. Despite being painted red and having the requisite slate roof, it did not much resemble similarly purposed buildings back in Norisle.
    Traditionally wurmrests were built of stone—though it occurred to Owen this might’ve been because most wurmrests were centuries old. Enormously strong and often clumsier than anyone would wish, wurms smashed through anything less sturdy than stone walls. Bearing this in mind, Owen looked for any signs that the careless lash of a tail had knocked boards loose, but to no avail.
    As with all the wurmrests he’d seen, this one was situated close to the river. Come spring floods, water channeling through the wurmrest would thoroughly clean it out. An added benefit to such a location was that the sound of running water and cool breezes coming off the river calmed wurms during uncomfortable summer months.
    Something’s missing. Owen couldn’t identify what was wrong until he reached the building’s shadow. It doesn’t stink!
    Wurmrests usually had a rather distinctive odor about them, one that no one described as pleasant. The kindest description had likened the stench to the lingering stink of a battlefield after three days under a hot sun. Wurmwrights developed a strong stomach very quickly, or found another line of work.
    “Highness, you do understand I am not a wurmwright. If there’s something wrong with it…”
    The Prince nodded. “You mean the lack of stench? Mugwump has taken to eating some local berries. He still feeds mostly on fish and beef, but follows his meals with the berries. They make him decidedly less fragrant.”
    “Mugwump? I thought your wurm’s name was Gorfinbard.”
    “It was. Still is in all the official registries.” The Prince slipped the bar from one of the two broad barn doors. “Once, the chief of the Altashee—one of the Twilight Peoples—visited. I showed him my wurm. He called him Mugwump, or something very close in their tongue. Mugwump actually responded and seems pleased with that name. I have no idea what it means and I’m not anxious to find out, but if it pleases the beast, I will use it.”
    Owen grabbed the other door and pulled, then followed the Prince into the dark interior. They moved along a raised wooden walkway spattered with dry mud. A waist-high railing on the river side made it difficult for someone to accidentally fall into the wurmpit. The Prince leaned against the rail and nodded. “And there he is: Mugwump.”
    Owen stared down, admiring. Though the Prince had referred to the creature as a dragon, it was technically a wurm since it lacked wings and could not fly. “He is