BDArc-HiddenDragons

  Dragon Knights

  Hidden Dragons

  by

  Bianca D’Arc

  Love flourishes when two knights unexpectedly find the woman of their dreams…

  Sir Robert finds a beautiful maiden sobbing by a small waterfall. She proves to be a very special woman who can communicate with dragons. She lives alone in the forest, on the edge of a village Robert and his fighting partner, Bear, have been sent to investigate. When she invites them to shelter from the rain in her barn, they accept, using her place as a vantage point for their surveillance of the town below.

  Both knights are drawn to the fair maiden. Could she be the one to share their lives? Their dragon partners certainly think so.

  When they discover a treasonous plot in the village, they must act quickly. Will they be in time to stop the enemy from gaining a strategic foothold in their land? And will they be able to protect the woman who has become precious to them, even while the battle rages?

  And most important, when the dust settles, can they convince her to stay in the Lair with them...forever?

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter10

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  About the Author

  Dedication

  This one is for the fans who have been with me from the beginning. The first Dragon Knights book came out in 2006. It was the first book I ever had published and it started something that has become much more than I ever expected. It started a whole new career for me—a girl who’d already had four or five previous occupations.

  I’ve made so many good friends through my writing. Other writers, and especially a few readers who have become valued friends.

  Many thanks especially to Peggy McChesney for her continued support and friendship. Sometimes we all need a word of encouragement, and Peggy has been there to offer that modicum of sage advice and positive pep talk for me from time to time. It is greatly appreciated, my friend!

  And, as always to my family. I think, no matter how old you are, if you had a good experience with your parents, you will always miss them when they’re gone. I owe many, many thanks to my mother, who encouraged my career change back in 2005 and never doubted me—especially when I doubted myself.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2015 Bianca D’Arc

  Cover Art by Angela Waters

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Chapter One

  Isabelle went where she always did when things in the village got too rough for her. She wept quietly by the falls, about a quarter mile down the river from the outer boundary of the small village of Halley’s Well.

  It was so hard being all alone in the world. Since her mother had died, there was no one to dry her tears or tell her she had value beyond two hands that could work as hard as any others. Only her mother had made her feel special. And loved. And her mother had never told her she was the next best thing to worthless. Her mother had never belittled her for the way she thought or the things she could do that were just a little out of the ordinary.

  Now that mama was gone, there was no protection for her against the world’s hateful ways. No buffer between her and the mean people in the village who didn’t like her for whatever reason—or worse—feared her.

  There were even whispers going around that she was a witch, and in this small border village, that could prove very dangerous indeed. Isabelle didn’t quite fear for her life…yet. But the threat was there.

  That’s why normally, she did her best to remember to keep her head down and not draw attention to herself. She didn’t want anyone thinking too long about her and her differences. Despite the fact that she and her mother had settled on the outskirts of the village more than ten winters ago, they were still considered outsiders. It wouldn’t do to remind everyone in the village just how different she was from them.

  Luckily, while her mother had been taller than most of the men in the village and light-haired, while everyone else had dark complexions, Isabelle was only a little above average height for a woman. Her skin was three shades lighter than the villagers, but her mama had always claimed that was because they had come from the colder regions where the sun didn’t shine as much as down here, in Draconia.

  Mama had never let it be known among the villagers that they were not native Draconians. That would have been going a step too far. But Isabelle was pretty sure at least some of the natives—the smarter ones—had guessed their origins were not of this land. What little Mama had told Isabelle about her ancestry was wreathed in mystery, but she knew for certain her papa had been a warrior of great renown in the snowy region she remembered only vaguely from her childhood.

  Ever since papa’s death, she and her mother had been on the move. They had traveled steadily southward until they came to the border with Draconia, and crossed into the land of dragons. Mama had felt safer here. Eventually, they found Halley’s Well and settled on the outskirts of the village.

  For the first few months, Mama had been nervous and watching almost constantly for the arrival of strangers in the village. But they had never come, and in time, Mama had relaxed her vigilance somewhat. They had lived here in relative peace for a long time before illness struck like a dagger, killing her mother and half the village in a fortnight.

  There was nothing Isabelle could do but carry on. She had buried her beloved mother and lived a half-life filled with grief and sorrow for a long time. This lonely river bank had become her favorite place to cry, which she did a lot at first.

  Nowadays, the weeping was more under control, but as she had recovered from her shock at the loss of her mother, so had the village slowly recovered from the great loss it had also suffered. The people were back to their usual suspicion and distrust now, and Isabelle’s life was getting harder to live every day.

  She often contemplated leaving. She could go on the road as her mother had. But Mama was buried here and where could Isabelle go, really? She had no notion of what lay any farther than the heartiest villager could ride in a day. After that, the world was almost a complete mystery to her.

  Oh, she had heard the usual stories of Castleton and the Lairs that were spaced all through the country. She had even seen a dragon or two fly over from time to time as they patrolled the border. But all those stories seemed like fairytales to a girl who hadn’t known anything but small village life and traveling through nearly deserted country. The idea of a city—where many, many people lived together in great stone houses and even castles—was hard to imagine.

  Life was just so unfair. If Mama were here, she would have known what to do. Mama was always so decisive and full of good advice. She also gave great hugs, and she was the one person in the entire world that Isabelle kne
w loved her, with all her faults and foibles. Mama loved her just the way she was. Nobody else had ever cared for her—with the exception of Papa, perhaps, though he had died so long ago, it was hard to remember him at all.

  “What makes you weep so, mistress?” A gentle, deep voice shocked Isabelle out of her misery.

  Sniffling and wiping her eyes with sharp movements, she spun to find a man watching her. Not just a man. A knight, if the dragon standing behind him was anything to go by.

  Sweet Mother of All! There was a dragon standing not ten yards from her and she hadn’t heard a whisper of his approach.

  Isabelle bowed her head in respect. “I’m sorry, Sir. I will leave you to refresh yourself.” For what other reason would a dragon and knight come to ground but to take a break from their journey and perhaps drink from the river?

  She made to move past him, but the knight reached out and took her hand, making her pause. She looked up at him and found only kindness in his eyes. Beautiful blue eyes so very unlike the muddy brown of the villagers’ condemning, dark gazes.

  “Please stay, milady. We were about to enjoy our evening meal before we continue on night patrol. It’s always easier to eat while there is still daylight to see by.” His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “It would be nice to have someone to talk to other than Sir Growls-a-lot over there.”

  The dragon snorted and little tendrils of smoke wafted up from his nostrils as if he was amused. Isabelle stared at the dragon. He was amazing in every way. His scales sparkled in a lovely shade of dark greenish mixed with bronze that shimmered as he moved.

  But dragons usually patrolled in pairs—or so the stories said. Isabelle looked around, wondering if another dragon lurked in the shadows on the other side of the small clearing.

  “Surely you can converse with your partner?” she asked uncertainly, not sure if she should stay, but tempted beyond all reason to do whatever the handsome knight asked of her.

  The knight laughed at her statement and let go of her hand. “Bear? That tree over there talks more than Sir Bernard the Quiet.” Even the dragon chuckled again at this statement. “Please, milady, spare me another silent meal with my grumpy fighting partner. We have fruit bread and even some sweets to share, right Growly?” He looked back at the dragon, who bounced his head up and down as if he were answering his knight’s question.

  Isabelle was enchanted. She had never been so close to a dragon—or a knight, for that matter. She probably shouldn’t, but she decided to stay.

  “Why do you call him that?” Isabelle asked, blurting out the question before she could stop herself.

  “Because he can’t pronounce my real name,” came an amused, dry, rumbly voice in her mind.

  It felt warm to hear it. Comforting in a way she hadn’t felt since Mama had died. Only her mother had been able to speak mind-to-mind with Isabelle in all her life, and Mama’s voice was light and musical, very unlike the earthy rumble of the dragon.

  She looked into the dragon’s eyes, using the skill she hadn’t practiced since her mother’s death.

  “Forgive me, sir. I didn’t know dragons communicated in this way. I have never met one of your kind before.”

  The dragon’s head reared back as if in surprise, but he quickly recovered, zooming in to stare at her intently with his crystalline, hazel-green eyes. He blinked at her, looking her over intensely, but she didn’t mind his perusal. He seemed nice. So unlike the villagers who stared at her in hatred or fear. This dragon seemed intrigued, and almost…hopeful?

  That couldn’t be right, but then again, Isabelle had never talked with a dragon before.

  “You can hear me?” the dragon seemed to want to confirm what had just happened.

  Isabelle gathered her courage and smiled at the dragon. “I can, sir. And I am honored to meet you, though I do not know your name.”

  “Growloranth,” came the stunned reply in her mind.

  She made her shaky bow again. “I am Isabelle.”

  “She can hear me,” Growloranth spoke directly into his knight’s mind, shocking him.

  “Are you sure?” Robert was amazed the small woman they had come upon in such a heartbreaking scene had hidden depths. Was this some kind of trick?

  “Not only does she hear, but she speaks as if she has been doing it all her life.” The dragon was duly impressed and sounded just as surprised as Robert was. “Her name is Isabelle.”

  “Isabelle?” Robert repeated out loud, and the woman turned. Her shy smile made him want to reassure her, but of what, he wasn’t sure.

  “Yes, forgive me again, sir. My name is Isabelle, as I just told your partner, Sir Growloranth.”

  She gave Robert the same little bow she had given the dragon and Robert was impressed by her manners. Most border folk in the small villages like the one they had just flown over were either afraid or overly obsequious when they met knights and dragons.

  This young woman had a confident interest that was as refreshing as it was attractive. Everything about her was pretty, from the glint in her green eyes to her pale skin and long, golden blonde hair. She didn’t look like most border folk, who were usually dark-skinned and dark-haired. She had a bit of fey grace about her that made her stand out.

  “No, I’m afraid you must forgive me, milady,” Robert finally said, aware that he had been staring at her a little too long. “It is a rare thing to find someone who can speak with dragons. How in the world did you learn such a skill, living out here on the border?”

  “My mother could speak in that way, mind-to-mind. She taught me. Since her death, I have spoken to no one else. It is…nice…to be able to use the ability again without fear,” she admitted in a quiet voice.

  “What do you fear?” Growloranth was instantly on guard, ready to defend her, it seemed.

  “The villagers have never been very accepting of my differences. Even though we came here when I was young, we have always been considered outsiders. Now that Mama is gone, I’ve felt very alone, which is why I come down to the river…” she trailed off, looking at the spot where they had found her, crying.

  “Your mother died?” Robert asked gently.

  She nodded. “In the sickness that took half the town two years ago. It was very sudden.”

  “And you have been alone since? Have you no mate or younglings?” Growloranth asked quickly.

  “No, sir,” she answered in a quiet voice—out loud so Robert could also hear. “I have no mate or children. I live simply and work in the fields with the other villagers. I also tend the beasts when they are injured. For my work, I am given a small share of the community harvest. That, and my own small garden, is how I’ve survived these past years since Mama died.”

  The dragon looked at Robert, the censure in his eyes for the villagers clear. Robert knew Growloranth felt as strongly about injustice as he did. While they didn’t have all the facts about this odd young woman yet, the picture they were starting to get didn’t look good.

  “She should be in the Lair,” Growloranth sent to Robert privately. “Women who can speak with my kind are rare enough. I am certain we could find a place for her in the Border Lair. And our folk would treat her well. Many of the knights would try to court her. She would not be alone for long. In fact, why don’t you try your hand, Robert? I’d like to claim my mate sooner rather than later and you know I cannot do that until you and Bear find a mate to share. Lady Isabelle might be the one.”

  Robert had already started thinking along those lines, but it wasn’t just up to him. While the two dragons already knew they were mates, they were prohibited from actually mating until their knight partners had a wife.

  The sad fact was, if the dragons engaged in a mating flight, linked so closely to their knights as they were, the knights would need to be able to express that same bond of love, lust and ecstasy with their mate. Being bonded to a dragon meant sharing a mate, since only men were chosen as fighting partners by dragons and once chosen, they spent their lives bonded to t
heir dragon. Only death could break the bond and while the dragon’s magic imparted an extended lifespan to most knights, the dragon would live on for many centuries after their knight had left this world.

  Most often, the dragons of lost knights would go into a period of mourning for their departed bondmate. They would seek solitude high up in the mountains, living a simpler life for a decade or more. When they were ready, they would return to one of the Lairs and begin the search for a new knight to share their exceedingly long lives with, in defense of their shared homeland.

  Any male who could hear a dragon speak in his mind, and was inclined to the life of a warrior, was eligible for a dragon to choose. The dragons had a way of seeing to the heart of a person, and once chosen, a partnership was for life, so they were very careful of their choices. Only the most noble and brave of men were chosen to fight alongside a dragon—and only those with the talent for speaking mind-to-mind.

  Women with the skill were even rarer. Very few could hear or speak to dragonkind, and most were afraid. It was not easy to live with a dragon in the family—or two—which is how Lair families were formed. But certain special women made families with their knights and the dragons. Still, a mating in the Lair was a rare thing and something to celebrate.

  If Isabelle could be a mate to Robert and Bear, it would be something incredibly special. And if not them, perhaps she would be a match for another pair of knights in the Lair. Her ability to speak with dragons, and her lack of fear of them, counted much in her favor.

  “I’m with you, friend,” Robert sent to Growloranth privately, knowing he had been silent too long. Again. “Milady, would you share the meal with us? And then, after, we will see you safely home.”

  “I don’t want to impose,” she said, biting her lip in the most innocent, enticing way.