The Dawn Star Read Online Free PDF Page A

dark, headed out of Tardy Town.
    Within moments he had left the town behind. Under a waning moon, he jogged across the low hills. His glittar plinged a note every now and then until he repacked the instrument. He laughed and spread his arms as he ran for the sheer joy of his life. At twenty-eight, he had never held a steady job. During the harvest, he worked in his father’s orchard and the rest of the year he wandered as a minstrel. He rarely had to remember that he was the youngest brother of the queen of Harsdown or that his niece had married Cobalt the Dark.
    Soon he was alone under the stars, away from any homestead. He could shout as loud as he wanted and no one would hear. He felt gloriously free.
    That was when the strangers grabbed him.

    The wagon bumped along the rutted road. The cords that bound Drummer’s wrists behind his back dug into his skin. He could barely make out his jailors; the canopied wagon cut out what little light came from the moon. This wasn’t the first time he had been caught by someone irate over his mischief, but something was different this time, darker in a way he hadn’t yet figured out.
    They had grabbed him fast and efficient, more like soldiers than the itinerant merchant family they appeared to be. The men dressed the part of merchants, with billowy shirts and trousers. But where were the women and children? And they all had dark hair. Most people in the settled lands did, but those native to this part of Aronsdale tended toward lighter coloring. These merchants were taller and huskier than Drummer, too—but, well, that wasn’t unusual. Most men were. His slender build had once allowed him to escape a lady’s boudoir by disguising himself as her maid. It had amused him at the time, but right now he would have given a great deal to have the musculature and power to hold his own against his captors.
    Drummer twisted his hands in the hopes of loosening his bonds, but it only made the cords bite into his skin. He was sitting on a bench with his back to the swaying canvas wall of the wagon. Five of the six men who had captured him were also in the back—two sharpening daggers the lengths of their forearms, one sleeping, and two watching him. The sixth was driving.
    â€œWell, this is boring,” Drummer said. When no one answered, he added, “I could sing for you if I wasn’t tied up.”
    â€œBe quiet,” one man told him, which was pretty much all they had said since they nabbed him several hours ago. He wasn’t certain about their accent, but he thought it was from Jazid or Taka Mal.
    â€œYou know,” he said in a conversational voice, “kidnapping the brother of the queen of Harsdown can get you into trouble.” Maybe he could scare some information out of them.
    One of the men sharpening his dagger glanced up. “Being the brother of the Queen of Harsdown can get you into trouble.”
    â€œI’m a commoner,” Drummer said. “If you think you can ransom me for riches, you’re wrong.” His family did fine with their thriving orchards, but they were by no means wealthy.
    The closest guard lifted his dagger and touched the tip to Drummer’s neck. “You are going to be quiet, yes?”
    Drummer tried not to swallow. Sweat gathered on his forehead. “Uh, yes.”
    â€œGood.” The guard withdrew his blade.
    They bounced along in the night, going saints only knew where.

3
Sunrise Suite
    M el rode Smoke, her gray stallion, just as she always did, no matter how many earnest stable hands urged her to take a mare. She and Cobalt were traveling through eastern Harsdown with his honor guard of thirty men, two of her sphere-maids, and the Chamberlight warriors. Up ahead, her husband galloped on Admiral, his black warhorse. Admiral wasn’t fast, nothing like a charger, but he was a glorious animal, massive and strong, able to carry even a man of Cobalt’s size for long distances.