Purple Dragon [REPUBLISHED]

Chapter 9: Chief Naysa

"It's a suicide mission!" Everett groaned. "I'm too young to die!"

"Shut up!" Amasya snapped. "Stop griping!"

Everett scowled at her, but kept his mouth shut. They were hidden among the vegetation that surrounded Naysa's camp.

Amasya peered through the weeds to see Gatherers harvesting crops for the Chief. Being highborn, Amasya had never conversed with any Gatherers or Servants with the exception of her personal Servants and Osma. Now she studied their plain faces, void of any tattoos or embedded gems that were all the rage among the wealthy.

Gatherers Amasya's age had faces lined from labor and sun. Unlike the highborn, there were no scars on their skin. But their hide was hard and cracked from working under the scorching sun all day. She was dismayed to see the elderly, who were still forced to work, had bent spines from bending down to pick the crops.

But it wasn't their hard faces that intrigued Amasya. While they were working, they sang. Softly, so their masters wouldn't hear. Songs that were short and funny, but also cheerful. And even though they were prisoners, forced to labor and toil in harsh conditions, they were happy. Amasya compared their cheerfulness to the betrayal and ambition common among highborn families, and suddenly, she realized that she wished she was one of them.

In a stroke of boldness and probably stupidity, she stepped out into the open.

"Amasya! Get back here!" the bush hissed behind her. Everett's snout poked through the branches.

The Gatherers stopped working to stare at her. Whispers ran like fire through the crowd.

Look at her skin!

A Rogue? What's she doing here?

What happened to her leg?

Should we sound the alarm? She could have weapons on her.

She'd better leave before Chief Naysa arrives or Naysa will kill her.

Who is she?

"I am Amasya," she announced boldly. The whispering stopped as the Gatherers stared at her. "Daughter of Chief," she closed her eyes, "Bastian, of Keslin." It was hard to acknowledge her father would the title of highest rank in the legion.

The crowd of Gatherers cried out in gasps and exclamations of anger and fear.

"Please, listen," Amasya said. "I come in peace. All I wish is to speak to Chief Naysa."

"Why should we listen to you, Rogue?" a Gatherer said in a disgusted tone.
"You're a traitor!"

Choruses of agreement and approval rippled through the congregation.

"Oh Benny, ssh!" A young dragon stood up. "The masters will hear, and then we will go without our suppers tonight! Let's hear what the strange purple dragon has to say!"

"You can listen all you want Axella," Benny glowered. "Chief Naysa's angry with us already, and I'm not going to listen to another word!" He stomped off with a few other dragons looking as angry as Benny. A few lingered, hesitating.

"Why do you want to talk to the Chief?" one dragon shouted nervously. "How do we know you won't assassinate her?"

Amasya raised her paws in surrender. "I told you I come in peace. Bastian's league has been struck a harsh blow, and I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize any more lives."

"Why should we listen to you?" another cried. "You're both filthy Rogues!"

Amasya turned to see Everett look at her sheepishly. A couple of leaves dangled from his tail.