DRAGON DISCOVERED

  SAM HALL

  Dragon Discovered

  Dragon Discovered © Sam Hall 2025

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except for in the case of brief quotations for the use in critical articles or reviews.

  Edited by Christine George

  Cover art and design by Mibl Art

  The characters and events depicted in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Author Note

  This book is written in Australian English, which is a weird lovechild of British and American English. We tend to spell things the way the Brits do (expect a lot more u’s), yet also use American slang and swear more than both combined.

  While many people have gone over this book, trying to find all the typos and other mistakes, they just keep on popping up like bloody rabbits. If you spot one, don’t report it to Amazon, drop me an email at the below address so I can fix the issue.

  samhall.author@gmail.com

  Stalk me!

  Stalk me!

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  Trigger Warning

  Trigger Warning

  These are some triggers to keep in mind when reading:

  Unwanted, illegitimate children

  Mention of child neglect, but no flashbacks or on page scenes

  Contents

  Author Note

  Stalk me!

  Trigger Warning

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 1

  Seven years before the war between Harlston and the rest of Nevermere

  Kael

  “You sure Peggy’s is where we want to go?” Lorien asked, eyeing the tavern door.

  When my all too reckless brother was questioning the plan, I knew it was risky. Before I could reply, Dain shouldered his way forward.

  “Need food.” With a shrug, he nodded at the patrons walking up the street, some very finely dressed. “The toffs drink here sometimes. Got the heaviest coin pouches.”

  Which is why I’d decided we’d hit this place first tonight. Dain was right. Food was scarce and that hollow ache in my belly had gotten too pronounced to ignore.

  “We go in,” I said, trying to keep my voice even to convey confidence. “We see if Phoebe is working tonight. If all our plans go to hell, she’s a soft touch. She’d probably find us a heel of bread or some stale cheese or something.”

  “Bread,” Lorien moaned, rubbing his stomach and then groaning. “Cheese…”

  “You’ll get neither if you don’t shut up.”

  Dain scowled at Lorien.

  “None of us will get anything if we don’t stick to the plan,” I said. “Go in⁠—”

  “Find a drunk mark and relieve him of his coin .”

  Lorien grinned wolfishly, his dark eyes gleaming in the night. Dain crossed his arms with a frown.

  “Create a distraction, so he doesn’t notice you,” he finished.

  “Well, since we all seem to know what we’re doing…”

  Before I could lead my brothers inside, a clatter of hooves on the cobblestones alerted us to the fact we weren’t the only ones considering visiting Peggy’s for the night.

  Who we saw were the kinds of people the old hag wanted in her tavern, not three urchin boys seeking to fleece the pockets of her patrons. They might’ve been dressed in dull, brown homespun cloaks and black tunics and pants, but no one would believe this lot were anything other than lordlings. Especially when they rode up on horses that could keep the three of us in food and firewood for a year. No, two.

  “Boy!” One of them, with hair the colour of newly minted gold, turned and then flicked a coin our way. It spun through the air and I knew it was good silver, even before I snatched it out of the air. “See to these horses.”

  Definitely toffs.

  Everyone else at Peggy’s knew they needed to look after their own damn steeds. Better yet, don’t come here with anything precious, lest it get stolen from you. I glanced at Lorien and Dain and we nodded before stepping forward and taking the reins of all the lordlings’ horses. Caps pulled down low so as to evade inspection, it was an unneeded attempt at protecting our anonymity. The lords barely shot us a sidelong glance. The lure of a warm fire, cool ale, and high-stakes gambling had them pushing past us and into Peggy’s.

  So we let go of the horses’ reins.

  “Horses like that…” Lorien watched after them with a mournful look. “We could get good honest gold from Ol’ Nick.”

  “Is it honest gold, when you get it for selling stolen horses?” Dain’s brows wrinkled. “Ol’ Nick would never take fancy nags like those.”

  But others would. With a smack on the horses’ rumps, we sent them trotting off down the road for others who were less risk averse to find.

  Peggy’s was busy tonight. Another group of men, half gone to wine, sang loudly as they approached the door. We slunk in behind them, using their far larger bodies to get us inside the tavern. Peggy knew us well, knew what we did, and didn’t want us picking the pockets of her posh patrons, not when she was already there, trying to empty them of gold. Get inside, find a table tucked away, and then lay in wait for the right mark before getting out.

  “We all know the plan?” I said, looking at my brothers.

  With a nod, we stepped over the threshold.

  Inside, I felt the blessed heat of the fire on my skin. It didn’t even matter that the place stank of smoky tobacco, sour ale, and piss. Being warm was such a blessed relief.

  “Beginning to think my balls would freeze off,” Lorien said, his teeth chattering as he sat down at a table tucked away in an alcove.

  “Haven’t even dropped yet.”

  Dain was always a sour bastard, but never more than in winter. The long white hair of his, those dark brows, they jerked down as he placed his arms on the table.

  “Never gonna at this rate.”

  Lorien picked through the leftovers on the table, sorting the edible from the inedible and then divvied them up between us. A crunch of stale bread, a bit of gristly meat washed down with a mouthful of flat ale, and I was starting to feel more like myself again.

  “Can I take your plates, gentle…?”

  We looked up when a barmaid approached, a tub propped on one hip. Rosie was stuck clearing the tables tonight, and she blinked when she saw us.

  “If it’s not our Rosie.”

  Lorien grinned rakishly, fluttering those too-long eyelashes, but Rosie wasn’t one to be swayed by smiles. She was from Coalbottom, just like the rest of us, the dankest, darkest part of Blackreach. The city might be the capital of the duchy of Harlston, but our part of it may as well be in Hell.

  “Don’t you ‘our Rosie’ me, Lorien Lightfingers,” she hissed, then glanced around the tavern. “Don’t you remember what Madam Margaret said the last time you came sniffing around here?”

  “Margaret…” Dain sniffed, shaking his head.

  She might be prancing around Lackluck Row now as Madam Margaret, but everyone in Coalbottom knew her as Peggy when she was running one of the cesspits down at the docks. Named for the wooden leg she stumped around on, she wasn’t above giving cheeky patrons a boot in the arse in response.

  “Don’t come back here ever again,” I said, repeating the woman’s directions back, word perfect. It was a curse of mine, able to remember some details all too vividly. “On pain of death.”

  “Don’t think that was an empty threat.” Rosie stared at each of us, wide eyed. “I’ve seen the Executioner in her office often enough.”

  Any other threat and we’d have waved Rosie off. She was growing soft, living outside of Coalbottom, but one mention of his name… We all stiffened, then looked at each other. None of us were bound together by blood. We called each other brother because we were all the family we had.

  But we had others.

  Men that rutted with our mothers, then left her to deal with the consequences. Rich men, powerful men, who used and abused Coalbottom women as if they were nothing more than the rats they described us as. But there was a rat catcher. The Executioner came behind the Duke of Harlston and all the other toffs, offering women herbs to get rid of their babes in the womb.

  Or worse, if he didn’t arrive soon enough.

  My fingers flexed around the butter knife on the table, for want of a real weapon, and my eyes flicked around the tavern, as if that would summon him. That craggy face, that sombre grimace, I knew it well, because his face haunted my nightmares.

  He was the man who killed my mother.

  A glance at my brothers and I saw their equally sour expressions. Each one of us bore a grudge against the Executioner, but we had to make it to manhood to get revenge.

  “We’ll be out of here before Peggy even notices,” I told Rosie.

  “Don’t call her that!”

  She looked over her shoulder, as if someone was eavesdropping.

  “We need food, Rosie.” Dain used words like a miser did coins, begrudgingly. He leaned forward, and that had her focussing back on us. “Times are tough.” She went to protest, but he continued, “You know we’d never step foot in here unless we had to.”

  When we were smaller, Lorien used to beg professionally. Those big brown eyes, that expressive face, he could wring the toffs’ hearts like the best of them. It was a long time since we were forced to beg on street corners, but Lorien still knew how to win over women. A mournful look from him and she was shaking her head in frustration.

  “I’ll get you a bowl of stew from the kitchens,” she said.

  “Each?”

  Lorien’s eyes widened, fairly shining in the candlelight.

  “Each,” she snapped, putting the dirty dishes on our table into the tub with undue vehemence.

  “And some bread?”

  Gods, Lorien was pushing it, I could see that in the way her brows were drawing down.

  “And some bloody bread, but after that, you need to get the hell out here.”

  We’d follow her plan to the letter, except for one small thing. I eyed the idiots who had thrown their horses’ reins at us, seeing the way they laughed uproariously, pouring ale down their throats, but it was the bulging coin purses on their waists. A full belly, some bread for later, and a bag full of gold? I’d gladly exit Peggy’s tavern once I had all three things.

  Chapter 2

  Lorien

  “Stew…” I snatched up my spoon the moment Rosie set the bowl in front of me, slurping up a mouthful and trying hard not to quiver as I swallowed. “My compliments to the chef,” I wheezed, tears almost forming in my eyes at the feeling of finally having something to fill my stomach.

  “Eat fast,” Rosie snapped, putting the last of the bowls down, “or this meal will be your last.”

  “That rhymes,” I snickered, before sinking my spoon into the stew.

  “Eat,” Dain growled.

  You’d think this idiot was older than me by the way he talked. Nope, we were born in the same year, in the same misbegotten park of Coalbottom. Just because he was a head and a half taller than me and broad across the shoulders like a man didn’t mean he had anything on me.

  “Eat yourself before…”

  It didn’t take much to distract me. A quick movement, something glinting in the sunlight, would always get my attention, and right then it was the great guffaw of laughter from the blokes at the table diagonal from ours. Gold, so much bloody gold, was strewn across the table. My mouth watered, thinking of all the food we could buy with that, but we had to be careful. Those keen-eyed fellows who held their cards close to their chests were professional players. So good at reading people’s tells, some even having the ability to know exactly which card would pop up next, we knew better than to mess with them.

  But these toffs didn’t.

  The one with the girl hair, he shouted with glee at winning that round, clawing all the gold on the table towards him.

  Which was when he should’ve started worrying.

  Those card sharps, nothing happened on their table that they didn’t approve of. Their lips thinned, and they made a show of looking disappointed, but as far as they were concerned, this was just an investment. Let the little sheep bleat about his victory, right before the wolves descended.

  “Eat up.” Kael’s blue eyes gleamed then, making clear he saw everything I did. “And fast. Don’t want the sharps taking everything this toff has got before we have a chance.”

  My hand moved on automatic, and I didn’t even taste the stew now. It was transferred from bowl to my belly in rapid movements.

  “He’ll head to the privy soon,” Dain said. “I’ll move that chair into his path.”

  “I’ll cuff your ears and then give my sincerest apologies.” Kael’s teeth glittered in the lamp light. “Bow and scrape and give him a target to direct his ire at.”

  Kael was always the toughest, putting himself in the way of angry marks, so I could slip in and take what we needed. My dagger was pulled from my boot and laid on the table, ready to be deployed.

  The bread was shoved inside my tunic. Didn’t matter that we’d have gold to buy all the bread we wanted soon. Bread was bread, and you didn’t waste it. As I fantasised about the kind of cheese I’d spread over it later, sure enough, the blond-haired man lurched to his feet. He said something about protecting his wealth to his friends, and I’m not sure if I would be trusting them. They looked awfully avaricious too. Well, they’d need to get in line. As the mark talked big about how much he’d win once he was back from a piss, we all moved.

  Dain made it look like he was returning the bowls to the kitchen, rising to his feet, right as the toff staggered past. His chair skidded across the floor, not so far as to block the mark’s path, but enough to send him staggering. Kael was up, remonstrating Dain, calling him an imbecile as I darted forward. Hands on the mark’s chest, as if to steady him, then jerking back when the toff snarled at me. A little twist of my dagger and the coin pouch was in my hand, shoved deep in a secret pocket I kept in my tunic seconds later.

  “What are you riff raff doing?” the mark roared.

  Trouble was, now everyone else was asking the same question.

  “Move,” Kael said, the mask dropped.

  We needed to make it to the front door, because once we were on the streets, none would find us. Every bolthole, every nook and cranny in this godsawful town belonged to us. The rich and powerful called us rats? Well, we knew how to survive like them. The three of us were on our feet, bolting for the exit.

  Some heroes decided to get up, sure they needed to get involved. I dodged around one, feeling his hands slap in the air where I just was, then jabbed my elbow into his sides. That sent him lunging sideways, crashing into his fellows. Dain shoved people with the incredible power of his body, forcing them to topple over like milk bottles when we were playing at bowls. Kael led the way, dragging the door open.

  Only to find the Executioner standing there.

  My blood ran cold. The only thing that told me I was still alive was the frantic beat of my heart. Every child in Coalbottom knew who he was, because he was the reason why so many of us went missing. Men, women, and most of all children. When the duke decided someone needed to disappear, the Executioner carried out the order. Kael jerked back as if slapped, scanning the chaos raging in the tavern.

  The toff wasn’t worried about the coin purse we’d lifted, because the card sharks had decided to cut their losses with his winnings. Rosie was shooting daggers with her eyes, but she needed to get in line. The door to Peggy’s office swung open, and somehow over all the noise, her wooden leg could be heard thumping across the floor. Everyone stopped right where they were.

  Which gave us an opportunity to exploit.

  I glanced at Dain, and he nodded, the two of us barrelling towards the door. The fact we were running towards the Executioner, not away, dimly registered, the fear powering my legs. Collide with the prick, shove him backwards, and then we were free. He might be death with a sword, but everyone knew a rat could be away and out of sight before he even drew his blade.

  It seemed like a good plan, right up until the point it didn’t.

  The Executioner’s eyes narrowed as he focussed on Kael. A scream built in my throat as the man’s hand shot out, ready to grab my brother.

  Not while I still had breath in my lungs.

  Dain’s bulk would be useful for once. He lunged forward, shoulder first, ready to knock the old man down. I was sliding across the floor, dropping down, knife in hand, prepared to hamstring the bastard if that’s what it took.

  All our effort was for nothing, as the Executioner dragged Kael out onto the street.

  “Let me go!” my brother shouted, and for the first time in so long, his voice became shrill. “Let me go!”

  We came stumbling after them, all our momentum working against us now. Dain and I corrected fast, then spun around only to see the Executioner dragging Kael towards the Bone Box.

  People said his steed wasn’t even a horse, but a demon who was tricked into service when he tried to bargain for the Executioner’s soul. His cart clacked as he passed, hence why it got the name the Bone Box. Anyone who went into the back of the coach never came out, which had both of us moving.

 

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