Dragon Rising

Chapter 5: The Castle of Albinastre

Hesprus's Draconian Family ruled as one of the richest warlords in the area. Majestic towers boasting colourful banners wound up to the bleak grey skies. Windows gleamed like watchful eyes watching over the merchant leading the donkeys and his carts up the winding path, which ran through the dried thickets and naked trees. Imbalance had not been kind, even to the prosperous, but at least they would never live in fear of being killed by the dragons, not when their own dragon, Hesprus the Fiery, protected them.

Whoever owns this place must be filthy rich, thought Ryadni with disdain.

The guards, dressed in pretentious bright colours, glared at the peasant as he approached.

"State your purpose," one barked. His eyes scanned the merchant with arrogance. The merchant swallowed.

"I've come to supply this week's hay and fruits, sir!" was the shaky reply.

The lead guard stared the man down, before jerking his head. His men moved in, pitchforks in their gloved hands. They surrounded the first three carts, which were piled high with rectangular stacks of hay, tied down with rope.

Wordless, they plunged the pitchforks in again and again.

After several more attempts, they were satisfied. Tossing aside the tools, they approached the last cart, which held ten or so wooden barrels, filled to the brim with berries and various other fruits. The head guard surveyed the content before dealing the container a kick at the side. A dull thud sounded and reverberated, whilst berries rolled off the top and bounced out of the cart. The merchant knew better than to protest over his goods. The guard popped a few of the dark fruits in his mouth, chewing with his mouth open and showing his black and yellow teeth, and jerked his head.

The merchant bobbed his head, sweat rolling down the side of his face, and pulled his donkeys in without a backward glance.

As the carts slowed to a halt, shadows slipped out from beneath and from within some of the barrels. More berries showered the floorboards. The merchant paused and once the quiet footsteps disappeared, he knocked on the stable doors.

****

Rubanast wasn't a place they'd willingly raid, Ryadni knew. Hesprus's bloodline was one of the most paranoid Draconian Families. Their resources combined with hysteria was a nightmare combination for Raiders. Hesprus's bloodline had tight security and a low threshold for detaining. "Hit first, question later" was their winning philosophy.

Ryadni remembered when she was younger how many Raiders they'd lost by sending a team to Rubanast. They were almost all killed in the ensuing struggles. None had been captured alive before. The warlord's reach was far and wide. Protected by Hesprus the Fiery, the Draconian Family offered sanctuary from other dragons to those who would become slaves for them, further empowering the bloodline, and delivered death to those who opposed them.

Ryadni gestured to her companions, leading the way. Pallas's directions may be very outdated as he hadn't set foot in the castle since the dragons descended. The merchant knew little of the ins and outs and the only Raider who had survived a raid at Rubanast had died during a raid gone wrong four years ago.

They were in on their own, armed with nothing but a few daggers, rope, and a rickety plan.

The tiny courtyard was peppered with grass peeping from between cracks of stone slabs. In the centre, as Pallas had said, stood the main well servicing the castle. Buckets lay in a pile nearby. The family's residency was at the top of the towers, far from the servant areas. The burly Raider waited until the servants disappeared back into the kitchen to prepare dinner before darting to the well and snapping the handle in one swift action. He rejoined Ryadni and the three disappeared into the back area.