The Dragons of Argonath Read Online Free PDF

paused while they wolfed down bread and drank a little water. The wind brought up a soft breeze from the valley, filled with the scent of trees and grass.
    "We'll go down through the dingle, then across the common. Have a beer at the Bull and Bush."
    "I always like the Bull and Bush. Though I never understand the name. There is no bull there, nor any bush. The common is flat enough for boys to play football. No bush grows there without risking destruction."
    "Don't ask me, Baz. I only grew up there. Nobody ever told me stuff like that. When an orphan asks questions, he doesn't usually get answers."
    "Dragonboy is born with excuses coming out of mouth."
    "Yeah, well I remember things coming out of mouths too. I remember when we came up here on that long day hike, on your tenth birthday."
    Bazil stiffened. "I have no memory of that."
    "You stuffed yourself with brackberries and then you got a bellyache."
    "You didn't have to remind me of that."
    "What an afternoon we had, all the way back to the village."
    "Enough!" Bazil clacked his long jaws angrily.
    "Yeah, enough." Relkin turned away with a smile. His eyes lifted to the Roan Hills on the far side of the valley coated with purple heather. The green valley below, the purple hills, and the distant tower of Quosh Temple all awoke memories of the former life. He had sat here many times before, but that had been before he had seen the outside world. Back then he had wanted to escape. The hills were like the bars on a cage. Now he saw them as sheltering walls, enclosing the valley so green and peaceful. Keeping it safe from the dangers that haunted the world. From here to the Ersoi they'd rambled all their young lives until they'd finally taken the Borgan Road with that contract with the baron.
    That damned contract with the baron! It had turned out to be nothing but trouble, especially with those illegal trolls the baron kept. He'd thought at the time that it would make the ideal start for them in life. They'd learn on the job, make a little money and then go on to Marneri and apply for acceptance in the Legion Dragon Corps. Instead they'd had to hurry out of Borgan with the baron's imprecations at their backs. Still, once they'd got to Marneri, they'd found a place in the legions, and the rest was history.
    The world had seemed a bright place back then, inviting and challenging when they'd set out from Quosh and marched up the road to Borgan. Now it seemed as if it had been in another lifetime.
    "We've been around the world and back, Baz."
    "We have traveled farther than this dragon ever dreamed possible."
    "Doesn't seem to have changed much."
    "Peaceful life down here. Glad we left."
    "I wonder what old Macumber's doing."
    "I too. Sat here many times with master Macumber."
    "I'm sure. He always told me that you would be one of the best wyverns Quosh ever produced. Glad to say he was right."
    "Eh?" Bazil swiveled a large eye to check Relkin's face. A joke?
    "You are the best wyvern they ever came up with, really."
    Bazil's eyes blinked. He rumbled happily in his chest.
    "This dragon please to hear you think so. Dragonboy not often this kind to poor old dragon."
    "I'd say old Macumber should be plenty proud of you."
    More contented rumbling indicated approval of this concept.
    "Seems long ago that we went up that road," said Bazil, pointing to where a line of poplars marked the Borgan Road. In the distance Kalcudy's heights loomed like a lion's head above the River Saun.
    "Someday I'll have to bring Eilsa here to see this. I think she'd like it. It's not that different from Wattel Bek."
    At length they stirred, they set off down the steep path that lead through the rock-strewn dingle, with its huge blocks of stone fallen from the cliff face above. In places this could only be done by climbing and working one's way through the giant puzzle of the blocks of stone.
    At the bottom they left the rocks, crossed a low stone wall, and walked beneath the dark leaves of the woods. Soon they