Page 1 of Red Dragon’s Flame

Chapter 1

“You stole my sheep, you mangy dick-wagging nightwalking mutton-burglar!” Farmer Tucker bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. And who are you calling a thief, you bloodsucking tick on a ram’s balls?” Jem Brooking, beard bristling, faced off against Tucker across the marble floor of the Chief Steward’s office.

Mikah, red dragon and Chief Steward to King Emon of the Al-Maddeiri clan, rubbed his throbbing temples and considered flaming both of them to a crisp with his fiery breath.

It would have the added advantage of roasting the hapless sheep that Tucker was carrying—or rather, brandishing furiously at his next-door neighbor.

Instant lunch.

Mikah sighed, then drew a deep breath and said, “Shut up, both of you. Or I’ll let my dragon out and eat the damn sheep myself.”

He didn’t raise his voice. Augmented by his dragon magic, it cut through the argument like a knife. The two men both swiveled in place and stared at him. Mikah usually didn’t do threats—in fact, he was famous for his patience and tact in unraveling the many disputes he had to arbitrate in the course of his job.

But more days than not, lately, he was in no mood. It didn’t matter how many petty squabbles he settled—there would always be more next week, and more the week after that.

It never fucking ended.

“Bring me the sheep,” he said, beckoning to Tucker. With a nasty glance at Brookings, the farmer skirted Mikah’s huge, paperwork-filled desk and carried the sheep up to Mikah’s chair. It rolled its one visible eye nervously at him, scenting him as a sheep-eating predator despite his human form.

his dragon said, talking silently inside his head.

Sooo tempted, Mikah replied, also silently.

his dragon said. He added plaintively,

We’re too busy.

the dragon complained, referring to Realms of Fire and Stone, the massively multi-player online role-playing game Mikah was kinda-sorta addicted to.

We’ll go hunting soon, Mikah told him soothingly. Although, he had no idea when. His job was creeping more and more towards 24/7. And he had an online gaming date with a sexy assassin tonight. Well… date-ish, anyway.

Tucker held the sheep out to Mikah. “It’s my sheep,” he said stubbornly.

Brookings folded his arms and looked bored. “It has my brand on it.”

Mikah looked at him sharply, and then touched the brand, trickling a tiny bit of magic into it. The mark reverted to its true form—Tucker’s, not Brookings’.

Brookings was using magic to fake his brand.

Mikah cut his glance to Brookings and raised his eyebrows. “Care to explain this?” he asked in a deceptively mild tone. He added, “You know how King Emon feels about perpetrating fraud by magic.”

Brookings swallowed hard and went pale. Emon was a good king, and fair, but the Darkwing Dragon inside him was just this side of psycho, and Emon had a temper that could blister the skin off you.

He also didn’t put up with his people preying on each other. Brookings knew that.

Brookings said sullenly, “This sheep’s line give prime wool—better than some of mine that are up for shearing. Not fair they’re all just going to be slaughtered. A crime, that is.”

Mikah sat back in his chair and gazed at him contemplatively. Brookings raised sheep for wool; Tucker raised them for meat. They tried to allocate the best specimens of each to the proper farmers, but it didn’t always work out. He asked Brookings, “And you didn’t bring this up to the Agricultural Department… why? That’s what they’re there for.”

Brookings shuffled his feet and muttered.

Mikah said, “I’ll ask them to send somebody over to survey both flocks, and see if we can trade some of the animals with better wool for some good breeders and meat-producers.”

Brookings looked thoughtful, and Mikah added, “There will be a hundred hours of community service for the attempted fraud, plus a fine. And you’ll turn in the magic item you used to change the brands.”

Brookings scowled at that, but had sense enough to say, “Yes, sir.”