Chapter 1 Preview: Here There Be Dragons

Have a peek at the first chapter of the Wentworth’s new dragon adventure.

August 23, 1815

Sir Frederick Wentworth—still trying to grow accustomed to his new title of baronet—sat back in his chair and smoothed the letter over the blotter on his cluttered desk, pushing books aside to arrange it alongside the three other letters, all recounting similar events. A sea-scented breeze rushed through the windows and down the narrow room, leaving him scrambling for paperweights to hold down his carefully arranged correspondence.

Blast it. Where had he put the other one? He grabbed a book from the shelves on the long wall opposite the windows. That would do for now. Anne would tease that it was a sign he needed to clean his office. And she would, of course, be right, but would that motivate him to change his bad habits? Probably not. How could one think when worried about keeping so large a space in precise order? Small, shipboard spaces were so much easier to manage with efficiency.

The breeze rushed out like a wave returning to sea, and he turned back to his letters.

Sir Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pendragon Knight and Keeper of Pemberley, in his strong, distinct handwriting, offered him the facts of a dragon kidnapped from a girls’ school, arranged and carried out by other dragons, who intended to put the victim in the hands of dragon poachers. The Regional Undersecretary of Derbyshire, a Mr. Withington, had the matter well in hand and was activating the Keepers of Derbyshire to watch for such activity against the minor dragons of the region. A Lady Marie Dunn, who appeared to have been involved in the affair, had connections in the shipping trade at Lyme. Though Darcy had no actual authority to direct Wentworth’s efforts, the implications were clear enough, all the while leaving things sufficiently vague enough to give Wentworth room to do what he saw fit. A proper and gentlemanly way to handle what could be a rather sensitive situation.

Rather sensitive? When had he become so politic? Wentworth snorted and stared at the ceiling. A fragment of a dusty cobweb waved at him from the corner. Sometimes it seemed he hardly knew himself anymore. Was that because he was landbound now, or a Keeper and a gentleman? Difficult to tell.

Sir Richard Fitzwilliam, Pendragon Knight and Keeper to Netherford, showed his military colors in his missive’s very first words. Crisp, clear, and to the point, he detailed the suspected connection between Lady Marie and the shipping business, the role and connections of her minion Sanford, and explained the role of Knob, the dragon kidnapper, and his Friends the dairy farmers near Sparrowspit and Chapel-en-le-Frith. Not because it was strictly necessary, but because it might be significant, Fitzwilliam included the noteworthy bit of information as to how Miss Georgiana Darcy had been involved in the affair, and how she was now under his and Netherford’s watch. That would make Fitzwilliam’s life more complicated, would it not?

Interesting. Not one, but two minor dragons were taken, Miss Darcy’s—what would one call her, a fellow student, an acquaintance?—and the Friend of Sir Horace’s sons. If only the poachers realized their plots affected three Pendragon Knights in one go. A serious tactical error on their part.

General Strickland, Minister of Dragon Defense, wrote in greater depth, tying the smugglers to the poachers in an elaborate web of connections that would take some time to sort out. Some associations seemed rather weak and made ties between the different actors that were, at best, tenuous, at worst, fanciful. But at this stage of an investigation, that was to be expected. Not surprisingly, several pieces of the web led to the ports at Lyme. Would Wentworth please increase his efforts to investigate them?

Now.

One more thing for his ever-growing list. And for Anne’s.

Admiral Easterly’s letter, from the office of the Blue Order Chief Naval Liaison, the most recent of the missives, was the most interesting. Well, interesting if one found impatience and frustration interesting. Though Easterly did not come out and say as much, he was under no little pressure to get the sea dragon matter moving. Unfortunately, there was nothing he nor Wentworth could do to make it happen any faster, something Lord Matlock did not appreciate.

Wentworth rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. But it provided little relief against the headache triggered by Easterly’s subtle accusations.

How many months had elapsed since he and Anne had occupied the estate at Lyme, all without a single genuine interaction with the reclusive sea dragons? Nearly eight months, now. Though, to be fair, some of that time had been spent in London dealing with Lady Elizabeth’s kidnapping and the Cotillion. Even so, it was taking longer to begin the talks than any of them had anticipated.

But what did the Order expect? That the sea dragons would be waiting for Wentworth at the beach, treaty in hand, ready to sign? No, not even General Strickland was so ambitious, though he would have appreciated such a thing. No doubt, the pressure came from Lord Matlock himself. That seemed in keeping with the Chancellor’s character. Good thing he was in London and not Lyme.

Anne pushed the door open with her shoulder, bearing a tray of tea things that she had refused to allow the housekeeper to manage. No, he had not asked for them. No, he hardly needed them.

But he did need her company and her thoughtful insights. Two seemed to come hand in hand. Perhaps she needed the tea tray as an excuse to barge into his office. Ah well, if it made her feel better about the most welcome intrusion, then he would drink tea and partake of whatever biscuits or sandwiches or whatnots appeared with the teapot.

The sacrifices he would make! Best hide that smile before Anne caught sight and stared at him until he told her all his wandering thoughts.

She stood in the doorway a moment, both demure and enticing in her dark-blue walking ensemble. How did she manage that?

“Admiral Easterly’s letter is troubling? I imagine he is complaining about delays again?” She glanced around the too-full-of-furniture study for a place to set the tea tray.

He hurried to clear a small table crowded in the middle of three leather chairs near the unlit fireplace. “Indeed, his current complaint might surprise you, though.” He deposited the stack of books near the embroidered fireplace screen as she swallowed a sigh.

“I am intrigued. Are you to tell me, or shall I guess?” She set down the tea tray, and Wentworth strode back to the desk to retrieve the letter and handed it to her.

“He does not approve of you wasting time investigating smugglers when you have more significant matters to attend to?” She returned it to him, her upper lip curled in confusion, or perhaps disgust.

“Surely negotiating treaties with the sea dragons who refuse to make an appearance is more important, no?”

Anne sighed, probably for dramatic effect. Had Kellynch been teaching her that? “You well know my feelings on that matter. As frustrating as it might be, one cannot negotiate with someone who will not appear. I do not see why the Admiral struggles so with the concept.”

“Whose fault do you think the lack of dragon encounters is?” He fell into the chair across from Anne. Perhaps a cup of tea would do him good, after all.

“Clearly yours. I assume that is because you have not done enough to contact them.” She poured a cup of tea. The warm, herbal fragrance floated in the air.

Yes, tea was a splendid idea. “Nothing short of utter success and a signed treaty would have been sufficient for him, I think.”

“I did not think the admiral so unreasonable.” Anne poured herself a cup and gestured to a plate of nibbly things on the tray.

“I am sure it does not originate from him. I have known him for a long time and never seen this sort of irritability from him. There must be considerable pressure to prove the worth of having a Naval Liaison to sea dragons beyond getting said dragons to agree to a treaty. Never underestimate the insecurities of a man promoted to a new rank.” He liberated a cucumber sandwich from the plate. What a strange thing to have developed a taste for. “But so far, there are no sea dragons willing to liaise with us. I fear that makes him a failure in the eyes of someone above him who is willing to pin the blame upon me.” He stretched his legs and leaned his head over the top of the chair to stare at the cracked ceiling plaster.

“You are worried you will no longer have work with the Order if success eludes you?”

Wentworth muttered under his breath.

“Nothing will change your role as Keeper to Kellynch, you know. So, you will always have that and the estate to manage. For many, that is enough.” 

He turned his face aside. Why did she have to look at him that way?

“If you need more than that, why would they not put a willing and capable man like you to use with one thing or another?” She set her teacup down and leveled narrowed hazel eyes at him. “But you do not want to just do one thing or another. Do you?”

Frustrating woman! There were no secrets, no privacy with her, always knowing his very thoughts! “How is bringing the sea dragons into the Blue Order not in the best interests of all involved?”

Laconia sprang onto the windowsill and peeked around the fluttering curtain. “I might have some insight into the troubles with that.” Springing off his powerful serpentine tail, Laconia landed on the desk, directly on three of the letters he had been reading.

Powerful and elegant, the black tatzelwurm had the front half of a cat, with thumbed paws, the back half of a snake, and all the sense of the best officer Wentworth had ever served with. Few men were privileged to have such a loyal and stalwart Friend.

“You have news?” Wentworth crossed to the desk and shifted another pile to the floor to make room for Laconia.

 “A flock of seafaring cockatrice just came in ahead of a rather significant storm. As is their wont, they are chattery. Amidst all the stuff and nonsense, they had some intriguing insights.” Laconia licked his shoulder, leaving a tuft of fur sticking straight up.

“Pray enlighten us.” Anne went to his side and perched on the edge of the desk. She scratched behind his ears and smoothed his fur.

Laconia purred and flicked his tail in a satisfied sort of way. Life with Anne was making the tatzelwurm soft. Both of them, really—and neither of them were complaining about it.

“There is some disagreement about the details, as is always the case when dealing with a flock, but all the narratives agree that there is division among the sea dragons as to what should be done,” Laconia said.

“They? Is that to say the sea dragons are organized, like a Blue Order Conclave?” Anne asked.

“No, not exactly. And that is part of the problem.” Laconia’s tail swished and sent one letter fluttering to the floor. “If they were organized, I think this would be far clearer and easier. Organization does not exist at that level for the sea dragons.”

“If they are not organized, how, then, does it appear there is a division in what should be done, and what exactly is the thing that should or should not be done?” Wentworth asked.

“Yes….” Laconia licked his paw and rubbed it over his face. “There is a far greater variety in sea dragons than in land dragons. Many, like the serpent-whales, are organized into pods or schools or similar groups. Others are solitary. Some are migratory, so they do not define their territory in the sense that we would understand territory. Others have definite territories, but they are quite three-dimensional, defined by depth, not just longitude and latitude. That is something we do not find intuitive. Those who are solitary may or may not have cooperative connections with others of their kind. Some species seem, on the whole, more amenable to cooperation with their fellows. And their feelings about warm-bloods and terrestrial dragons vary as well.”

Curious. How many of the assumptions the Order made about all things draconic would apply to the sea dragons? They knew there would be differences, but perhaps not so many. Wentworth rubbed his chin. “So what you are saying is that they may be far from ready to enter negotiations with the Blue Order.”

“As a collective, absolutely, that is the case, and the sooner the Order recognizes it, the better.” Laconia pressed his head into Anne’s hand for more ear scratches.

“And you had not thought to mention that sooner? The Order will not like that one whit.” Wentworth huffed and paced the length of the narrow room.

“Kellynch and I thought it seemed too obvious to bother bringing up. He does not want to offend your delicate, warm-blooded sensibilities. I, on the other hand,—” Laconia’s tail slapped the desk as if to add ‘—have no scruples about letting you know your shortcomings.’ “Not that all hope is lost, though. It was naïve in the first place to think they could replicate an event like penning the Pendragon Accords. It was a singular moment in history.”

“What are you suggesting, then?”

“Negotiating with the entire body of sea dragons makes as much sense as trying to negotiate with the whole of Europe, thinking of it as a single entity when it is not. Many believe that is what Dewi and Pendragon did, but if you study the histories closely, that is not what happened.”

“You make an excellent point.” Anne said. “There were years of negotiations that took place after the initial treaty, before the Accords were finally written and the Blue Order established. Perhaps that is the model we should be following here as well. Do you think it possible to interact with smaller groups of the sea dragons to create some meaningful connections? That might pave the way for larger agreements later.”

“That should have been the plan from the beginning. Easterly and Strickland were fools to consider otherwise.” Laconia’s tail thumped against the desk. He was not known for subtle opinions.

“It sounds as though you have a starting place already in mind.” Anne stroked the fur on his shoulders and the thumping stilled.

“Of course. The local sea dragons have been avoiding Kellynch up to this point. He is, after all, a very large intruder in their territory. They have been watching to better understand both his intent toward them and his approach toward establishing dominance. Kellynch and I have been discussing the situation—”

Of course they had. Wentworth raked his hair and scratched his head. Yes, it was uncomfortable, Laconia and Kellynch talking behind his back. But exactly what excellent officers should do for their superior. That they were dragons should not matter. Did not matter.

But it required a bit of adjustment on his part.

“It seems, then, we should discuss that together. Shall we pay a call to the sea cave, then?” Wentworth gestured toward the cliff side cave that Kellynch preferred over his terrestrial lair.

Anne shook her head. “You know how I feel about trying to enter the Kellynch’s unofficial den. Besides, Mr. Allenden is expecting me this afternoon to collect the Keepers’ correspondence and reports. I shall have to ask you to fill me in later.”

Wentworth snorted.

“And before you ask, yes, he still appears to consider dealing with me below his dignity.” She shrugged and tossed her head. But that did not hide the truth of how much his attitude disturbed her. Though dragons might value females on equal terms, it did not ensure that the men of the Blue Order followed suit.

“An oversight which I find difficult to forgive,” Wentworth folded his arms and frowned, something she claimed he did at every mention of the Blue Order magistrate.

“He is little different to her father.” Laconia licked his shoulder.

“I am not certain I would agree with that… but then again, now that you bring it up, I can see a certain similarity in their outlooks. Quite set in their ways and determined to believe those who are not like them are rather a contemptible lot,” Anne said.

“The Order should have better sense than to put that sort of man in a position of authority.” But then again, so should the Navy. But that did not stop them, either. Wentworth ran his tongue along his bottom teeth.

“It would be pleasant if there were more choice among who might serve in such positions.” Anne’s voice took on those diplomatic notes she used when trying to soothe prickly souls. “But there is no control over who hears dragons, so choice is always limited to that. Have you forgotten? Until recently, Lyme did not have a local dragon estate. Though the number of dragon-hearers in England is small, it seems even smaller in this region.”

“I wonder why there are so few coastal estates.”

Laconia step-slithered toward him and put his paws on Wentworth’s shoulders. “You should remember that you are dominant over the country officer, who I might remind you, does not even have a Dragon Friend. It would not be untoward to remind him of your dominance.”