The League of Dragon Riders

Claif Jordan: Inn Owner Farmer...Dragon Rider?

My shed, though small and perfectly square, was mine and I loved it. Of course, my father would be angry if he knew his sister was keeping her niece in a shed. I didn't mind, though. I had my blankets. I had a chest for my clothes, a lamp. Enough for me.

I woke up to the sound of the rooster as always. I opened my chest, dressed quickly into breeches and a loose shirt before I began the day's chores.

In order to save money, Madame Carmen cut staff after my father died. She had me to work and I had no where else to go so I did the work. I'm not complaining. I'd rather have the shed than nothing and I loved Potts.

I was feeding the pigs when I heard them. I looked up and saw the three men standing just outside the back door. They were watching Charles as he fixed a wheel on a carriage that stood just outside the barn.  I narrowed my eyes as I dumped the bucket, keeping my eyes on the them.

"Is that him?" I heard the bearded man ask loudly.

"Yes. I believe so. He matches the age."

"Are you sure this is the right place?" The teenager asked. I didn't notice it at first but he was pale. His long black hair contrasted with his pale face.

"This is the place he always ran off two between quests."

"How do you know the kid hadn't ran off?"

"I don't."

"Are we just going to watch him or are we going to check him?" The bearded man demanded. He was impatient as he awaited the man, who seemed to be in charge, to make his choice.

"You check him." The man said as he looked directly at me. I turned away patted Maggie, the fattest pig in the bunch, before setting the bucket outside the fence. Please don't come over here, I silently pleaded.

"Hey there." I spun around and faced the man. He leaned against the fence and looked at me with a smile. The teenager, who was rather cute, stood a few steps away with his eyes skyward.

"Can I help you?" I asked, squaring my shoulders. Calm yourself, Alaina.

"Claif Jordan. Did you know him?" He asked. I narrowed my eyes, wondering if I should lie my way out of it.

"No, he was before my time here." I said as I dropped the bucket just outside the fence. I climbed over the fence and grabbed the bucket.

Yep, lie.

"Nope." The bearded man walked up with a frown.

"Perhaps the child moved on?" The youngest on suggested. Something seemed off about him...

"Perhaps. Do you know anyone, they would be around eighteen, that has been here for as long as you can remember?" The man asked.

The only one who fit that was me; I've lived here my whole life. I shook my head and carried the bucket away.

I didn't know why I didn't just tell them the truth. They seemed dangerous and there was nothing to them that made me want to trust them.

"Aye! Lass!" The bearded man called out.

"Yes?" I called back, almost to the back door. I bit my lip and didn't turn around.

"You have a name?"

"Alaina."

"I'm Fergus. This here is Erin and that is Maxwell." So, the teenager's name was Maxwell. I turned around just to see him point to the teenager.

"Have you met anyone with the last name Jordan?"

"Sir, I really-" I started but a mad Madame Carmen stepped out the back door. She looked furious. For once in my life I was happy to see her.

"Alaina, get into the kitchen. Now!" She yelled. I shrugged helplessly at Fergus before entering the inn. I silently thanked her.

"Where's Potts?" I asked as I pulled on an apron.

"Here, here!" Potts yelled as she hurried through the dining room door.

"If you take the plates out, I'll make them!" She told me and I started the work, without a thought of Fergus and his little gang.

When I was finished, about to head to bed, I overheard, I tend to overhear a lot of things, Fergus and them talking about my father. I meant to simply walk past them until I heard Dragon Rider. Not only that but the best Dragon Rider. A legend.

But there was no way. My dad was a tradesman. An innkeeper. A farmer. There was no way he was in with those people. They were thieves, murders, Pirates. My dad was an honest and respectable man.

Or was he? A little voice asked. My father would be gone for weeks at a time. No one would know where he had gone but no one seemed to want to question him. My father was a big man who scared even me.

I shook that out of my head as I stared hard at the dishes I was washing. My dad was good. My dad was good, I repeated to myself and even when I entered my shed for bed I wasn't truly convinced.

I took a deep breath, snuggled into my blankets, and closed my eyes. Sleep snatched me away effortlessly, lifting me away.