The Coming of the Dragon Read Online Free Page B

hopping from one rock to the next through the rushing water and then up the opposite bank.
    He emerged from the trees into the far field, its slender stalks buzzing with insects and shining in the slanting sun. Dots of blue and red caught his eye from the flowers that wound their way into the oats.
    A horned head rose out of the field, startling him. He laughed. “Ollie! What are you doing out here?”
    The little brown goat came through the oats toward him, green stems and half-chewed blue flowers hanging from either side of her mouth. Rune shook his head in exasperation. Now he wouldn’t just have to get back to the east field with his report, but he’d have to take Ollie back, too. He cringed at the damage she’d already done to the field.
    He bent over to examine the oats for ripeness, feeling the moisture in the stalks, rolling the grain between his fingers. Ollie gave him an affectionate butt against the shoulder, then nibbled at the back of his neck.
    “Hey, that tickles,” he said, touching his neck as the goat pranced away. She turned to look at him, a glint of humor in her eye, a leather cord in her mouth. At the end of it dangled his pendant.
    “That’s mine!” Rune said. “Give it back!” He lunged, but she danced out of reach.
    Thinking fast, he grabbed more of the blue flowers she’d been eating and held them out enticingly. Shewatched him but didn’t come any nearer, so he laid them in the path and took a step away. He could tell she was tempted from the way she eyed them. But not tempted enough. Without warning, the goat turned and raced down the path away from the farm.
    “Come back here!” Rune cried. His hand went to his neck, but of course the pendant wasn’t there. Would she turn when she saw he wasn’t following her? Drop it when she got bored?
Eat
it?
    He looked at the oats in his hand. He needed to get back to the farm, not spend his time chasing a fool of a goat.
    “Ollie!” he bellowed, but the goat kept running as if she were possessed. He squinted—she was already all the way to the tall runestone that marked the edge of Hwala’s lands. There the path forked, the shield-hand side leading to the sea, the sword-hand path to the giants’ mountain and, beyond it, to the king’s stronghold. Ollie took the sword-hand path.
    The pendant. It had been around his neck ever since Amma had found him when he was a baby. He had to get it back.
    He took a last glance behind him, to the trees hiding the stream, the smoke rising from the farmhouse, the ash tree outside the hut he shared with Amma.
    Then, oats dropping from his fingers, he ran.

TWO
    TALL GRASSES WHIPPED AT RUNE’S LEGS. FAR AHEAD OF him, he could see the brown-haired goat bounding along, her white tail raised like a flag. She had to tire of the game soon, he told himself. As he ran, he scanned the ground for his pendant in case she had dropped it, but he knew he’d never find it that way. The path wasn’t used often enough to keep it clear of vegetation, the way the ones around the farm were.
    He glanced behind him. Skyn and Skoll would just have to start on the east field by themselves. He’d make up for it later. He’d work through tomorrow’s midday meal if he had to; he wouldn’t have them thinking of him as a freeloader. Skoll’s words about what would happen to Rune and Amma when he was in charge of the farm were no idlethreat. There was more than one reason to pray Hwala’s wound wouldn’t fester.
    Rune wished he’d hit Skoll earlier. He could just feel the satisfying crunch of his foster brother’s jawbone against his knuckles. But, no, he’d backed down, the way he always did. It was laughable how Amma was always warning him not to fight. If she had any idea of the truth—that he always took the coward’s path—she would save her breath.
    In the distance, Ollie stopped short and turned to look at him. Finally. As he drew closer to her, Rune slowed his pace, panting. The pendant still hung from the