DragonKnight Read Online Free Page A

test your theory. Could you hurry a bit? I want to be out of here before I become its next meal.
    He managed to ease backward a few steps before the cat prowled into the meadow. The feline warily approached the serpent carcass, nose quivering, large eyes on the man, not the snake.
    Yes, of course I want a ride, Greer. This is ill-timed humor.
    The cat didn’t come straight at him, but sashayed in zigzag fashion, always with whiskers trembling and eyes fixed on the man. Bardon held his sword and knife ready but hoped Greer would reach them before he had to fight.
    He had plenty of battlefield experience. He’d matched prowess with skilled bisonbeck soldiers. He’d engaged many grawligs, and they were barbarous creatures.
    One-on-one with a wild cat involves different skills. Wild beasts fight with a finesse lacking in the savage low races. Still, I’ve fought a trundle bear and won.
Bardon shook his head slightly and clenched his weapons.
But trundles are a smallish bear. Not at all in the same class as this beast.
He looked at the magnificent cat, a creation of Wulder, and willed Greer to swoop in over the trees.
    The dragon’s grumbling rolled through his thoughts, and he answered.
    It’s not my fault you gorged yourself on fish and berries…I know you like to nap after a feast…I’m not the one who offered to catch dinner for the women…The sooner you get me out of here, the sooner you can stretch out beside the lake and bask in the afternoon sun.
    The cat curled its lip and snarled.
    Hurry!
    He had succeeded in reaching the forest line. The snake’s remains lay in two pieces across the middle of the clearing. The cat stopped and sniffed. The animal’s head jerked back, its chin lifted to the sky, and it roared.
    Shivers surged over Bardon’s arms and back. He flexed his fingers on the hilt of the sword, then the hand that held the knife. The muscles across the cat’s shoulders bunched. Its paws kneaded the ground.
    “Getting ready to attack, aren’t you?” Bardon noted his hands squeezing and relaxing on the handles of his weapons, much as the great feline kneaded the turf. The squire grunted. “Well, so am I! But I’d prefer to just go our separate ways. You go have dinner with the snake. I’ll go eat fish with the emerlindian ladies.”
    The cat licked its lips.
    “No, kitty.” Bardon kept his voice low and soothing. “This is a bad idea.”
    A rumble emanated from the cat’s throat, and it sprang across the dead snake, launching himself directly at the sword. Bardon twirled out of the way, allowing the animal to fly past and crash into the underbrush of the forest. The cat recovered and thrashed out of the branches, leaving a mangled bush behind. It charged Bardon, who stepped aside barely in time. He pricked the cat’s shoulder as it went by.
    The feline didn’t charge again but circled. Bardon carefully kept turning, sword and knife at the ready.
    “I didn’t want to do that, cat. But you don’t appear to be familiar with the high races and their weapons. This blade hurts. You should avoid it.”
    Leathery wings beat the air above them. The cat snarled and crouched, backing toward the woods.
    Bardon sheathed his weapons and waited. Greer landed in front of him, bellowed at the cat, and flashed his large, sharp teeth. His tail lay flat on the ground, pointed directly at his rider. Bardon ran up the incline of the tail, sat high on the dragon’s back, and hooked his feet under the shoulder joints of the wings. He pressed his body against the back of Greer’s neck and gripped the spikes that protruded from where the dragon’s head joined his neck.
    Not exactly comfortable because of the ridges running down Greer’s back, Bardon nonetheless felt secure. He’d ridden bareback before in many training sessions.
    The dragon spread his wings and lifted into the air. The cat darted into the cover of the trees.
    That worked. It’ll go off and lick that wound I gave it. Possibly, it has learned