Theft of Dragons (Princes of Naverstrom) by John Forrester Page A

water lapping against the hull of the ship. Faint light filtered in through sparse trees drooping lazily over the river. They had traveled a great deal in the night, farther than he had expected. Perhaps the boatswain felt a fire in his belly to get as far away from the troubles in the north as possible. He glanced around and caught the calm eyes of the Bishop, who bowed his head in response and mouthed a morning prayer.  
    With a wink he withdrew a wooden tube from a leather carrying case, and proceeded to unfasten the tube's cap. Inside was a finely crafted fishing pole, which he assembled with deft, expert precision. He threaded the silk lines with meticulous attention to detail, sat back, and admired his work. Next he retrieved a small box filled with various shiny lures and handcrafted flies, the variety and ingenuity of which caused Tael to gape in amazement.
    "Did you make all those yourself?"
    The Bishop looked up and furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "Isn't that the only way? Fishermen have secrets and don't make good merchants. They prefer the open air, the water of rivers and lakes, and the feel of a good haul after landing a bite." He aimed his rod at the river where hundreds of rippling circles were scattered across the dark surface. The fish were definitely biting. "Our breakfast beckons us."
    The priest narrowed his eyes to stare at the moths darting along the water, and reached in the box and selected a grey-and-white fly. With a quick flick of his fingers he tied the fly to the silk line and nodded in satisfaction.  
    "I hope you're hungry...we'll snag a nice fat fish." Bishop Draven led Tael to the back of the boat where he leaned over the edge and cast the fly at a cluster of jumping fish. "Won't take long now. When they are hungry like this they really go out of their way to chase after the fly."
    As if to prove his point, he snagged the fly back a few times and soon enough several fish jumped eagerly after the bait. A larger shadow slithered under the surface in a steady speed, scattering the school of smaller fish. Tael noticed the rod bend down under the weight of the catch, and the fish darted around wildly in the river, sending a wave of delight over the Bishop's face.
    "Ho, ho! Caught us a big river trout!" His words woke a few of their fellow travelers, and one girl of around eight peered sleepy-eyed at the frenzy frothing the water below. The fat, writhing fish was lifted out of the water, and its shiny skin caught the first soft rays of morning sunlight.
    Tael grabbed the fish and displayed it proudly to the gathered group around him. A pot-bellied man wearing a filthy apron waddled up and offered a cloth bag to receive the fish.
    "You catch, I'll cook. The gods do bless you, Bishop Draven... You're the finest fisherman around." And the plump man turned and waddled his way back towards the ship's scullery below deck.
    "Mind trying your hand at the catch, young lad?" The Bishop grinned at Tael and handed him the bamboo rod. Tael hesitated, remembering the last time he'd fished with his father. Feeling the weight of the rod made him wish he was once again casting lines into the water, with his father at his side. An old, painful ache clenched his side.
    The memory must have weighted heavily on his face, for the Bishop gazed at him with concerned eyes. "Is everything all right? It seems like a dark cloud has settled over your face."
    Tael sniffed and cast the fly into the river, unthinking where, just following his instinct. Within seconds, a silvery fish leapt into the air near the fly, and a swarm of shadows swirled below the surface. He yanked the fly back a foot or so, teasing the fish, and a good-sized one took after the bait. Soon he was hauling in a fish of his own, and the weight of it felt pleasing to his arms. The watching girl beamed a proud, pretty smile at him and for a moment it seemed as if the world was just exactly as it ought to be.  
    "I can see you have an honest soul." The