Quest Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 1) by Cole Pain Page A

the same to many of his own men. He held his breath, trying to brace for the contact, but when the end of the metal spike was thrust into his swollen eyelid he jerked on instinct. A gentle hand steadied him as Michel finished prodding. When the blood and puss had been drained, Michel handed him a clean rag. Quinton wiped his face and squinted in the sudden light. Michel was bruised, and a long gash ran the length of his face, but it wasn’t deep and would heal soon enough.
    They were at the end of the cellblock, guarded by five soldiers. If they were to escape they would have to travel the length of the dungeon. The odds weren’t good.
    “What else have you heard?” Quinton asked.
    One of the guards turned in their direction. “Quiet! We said no talking!”
    Michel and Quinton exchanged glances before sitting back against the cold stone. Quinton turned his attention to the others who had acted in Ren’s defense. Bentzen stood by the cell door. Bentzen nodded in greeting and put his fist to his forehead and then to his heart, a sign Ren used often. It was an ancient blessing of the fates. It meant truth above all .
    Quinton glanced at the others in the cell. Good men, all of them. Galvin stood beside Bentzen, shoulder bleeding from a knife wound, but although Galvin looked sluggish he wasn’t injured severely. The silver teardrop hanging from the loop encircling his ear danced dangerously. Ren had given Galvin the teardrop insignia after Galvin had sworn the soldier’s fidelity. It was an ancient oath, rarely given. Galvin had pledged complete homage to Ren, vowing to never take a wife, touch strong drink, or other such liberties enjoyed by most. In essence Galvin had no identity outside of his duty to his prince. Ren had been stunned when Galvin had knelt before him and spoken the oath, but once given it couldn’t be refused. Since then Ren and Galvin had become inseparable. Quinton smiled at his friend. Galvin nodded back.
    Neki, a new recruit in Ren’s guard, leaned nonchalantly against the wall. The tall, wire-thin man looked to be watching the morning’s sunrise instead of his captors.
    Quinton let his worries drain from him. If Ren had escaped he had used the tunnels. He wouldn’t be found. Quinton only hoped Ren wouldn’t be fool enough to look for them, but as soon as the thought was out Quinton knew it was too much to wish for. Ren would come after them, and they would have to be ready to act. As he looked around the cell again, his hopes rose. They would win this war. It may not be that day, or the next, but they would win. Each man in the cell would fight to the death for Ren. And there were more out there, even people in the city whom Ren had never met.
    The people who fought for Ren fought because they believed in the man he was, not because he was the heir to the throne. Although most would be blinded for a time they would soon realize as the men in the cell did: Ren was still Ren, and his beliefs did not waver. It may take time, but the people would see the truth.
    - - -
    Marva walked to the last cellblock, silently praying Quinton would be there. She had been at home when the chaos started, and before she had time to think a searing pain had forced her to her knees. After it subsided she heard the fighting and quickly ran to the keep, knowing full well if there was trouble her husband would be right in the middle of it.
    There were whispers of Ren’s betrayal throughout the keep, and different variations already abounded. She soon shut her ears and began attending those who had fallen, all the while looking for Quinton.
    She didn’t bother searching the remote section of the castle. If Ren had been brought to the courtyard Quinton wouldn’t have been more than fifty paces from him. Her husband would have been the first to leap to Ren’s defense.
    She was determined not to worry. Quinton wasn’t fast, but he was strong, and he would have fought like a dragon deprived of its last meal. Besides,