The Dragon Hunter and the Mage Read Online Free PDF Page A

so low it was almost impossible to stare directly at it through the windows, the walls lined with stone statues the size of real men.
    Aric walked through them. He passed a General with the Imperial lion roaring in his chest, a Chancellor reading from a scroll, a Dragon Hunter with a spear over his shoulder, and finally, he stopped in front of a peasant, armed with a fork in one hand and the flag of Arrel in the other. He didn’t even bother checking to see if someone was watching him before he removed the flag from the peasant’s hand, untied the cloth with the Arreline arms, and ran back to the staircase with the flag pole in his hands.
    He lunged down the stairs with impetuous pirouettes, swinging the pole from one side to the other. He slashed, parried, and thrust through the air, knocking down a dozen enemies, until he landed back in the great hall. At that moment, the gate creaked and Fadan, all dressed for war, stepped in followed by his combat instructor. His head was wrapped up in bloody bandages.
    “Aric!” he called with a smile. “I took a real beating today.”
    Aric smiled back. “Nah, you were great.”
    “You saw?”
    “I was having a class with old Macael.”
    Fadan’s instructor moved uncomfortably but didn’t have the courage to interrupt them.
    “Oh, then you must have seen my whole training.” The two laughed. Fadan motioned his chin towards the flag pole. “Were you practicing?”
    Aric hid the pole behind his back. “No… of course not.” He blushed.
    There was an uncomfortable silence when Fadan was unable to reply, a voice seizing the moment of silence.
    “The Prince should clean himself up. Dinner will be served briefly.”
    Fadan rolled his eyes. Sometimes he could swear Sagun spied his every move. He said goodbye to Aric and left, followed by his instructor who was stopped by a piercing stare from Sagun.
    “Next time do not allow these conversations to last this long.” He pointed at Aric as if he was a shelf. “Grab the boy and force him away if you must.” He gave the instructor leave to go and turned to Aric. “It’s not proper for you to delay the Prince. The Emperor is most punctual.”
    “It is also not proper to talk about someone as if he isn’t there when he is.”
    The Castellan’s eyes narrowed. “Your dinner will be ready in the kitchens. You may go as soon as…” he looked down at Aric’s flag pole, “…you finish your weapons training.”
    Sagun turned around, making his black braid twirl around him as he walked away.
    Aric watched him leave, picturing a thousand ways to use his ‘weapons training’ on Sagun.
    The sun was still refusing to set, so Aric wandered around the castle. He roamed through corridors and stairwells, visited empty halls, and peeked through the locks of immovable doors. It was a familiar ritual; one he did with most of his free time. Sometimes he would leave the Core Palace and visit one of the smaller palaces in the Citadel. The empty ones were his favorites.
    He sat on a battlement, watching the sun disappear behind the countless towers of the city of Augusta. Then he considered visiting his mother, but she would be getting ready for dinner. The Emperor demanded that she was always glamorous. Sometimes though she excused herself from dinner, claiming to be sick, then found a way to tell Aric, who would then sneak into her room so they could eat together.
    But today wasn’t one of those days. He decided to go to the library. He enjoyed reading about the Empire’s expansion and the various wars that had led to the unification. His favorite book told of the second war of Akham and the conquest of Saggad, where one his ancestors, Geric Auron, had scaled the walls of the city alone and under the cover of darkness. The book ended with Geric opening the gate from the inside, with half a dozen spears sticking out of his chest. On that day, an Auron had been a hero of the Empire.
    He walked along the book shelves but none caught his