Chronicles Of Sen Krendrath

Chapter 5

Of course, the humans would copy this honorable dragon institution. They learned from the best. “I did not get a Ability this time, which I find confounding.”

“It’s only one per two levels, Your Majesty.”

“Who decides that?”

“The gods, I think. Or maybe the Fomors.”

“These good for nothing upstarts? They always claim they made the world when everyone knows dragons did it first. Tell me where I can find and reprimand them.”

Kyle gave him a strange, incredulous look. “Reprimand the… I don’t know Your Majesty, I’m not a religious guy. Maybe we could ask a bishop.”

“We will after you climb down and recover what is mine.”

“After I what?”

“According to this Old Money Ability , the trolls below should drop treasures when they die. You do not expect me to get down and sully myself with ashes?”

Kyle glanced down at the fiery crater below them, then back at his master. “Your Majesty, I am not immune to fire.”

Not immune to—ah yes, he had forgotten. By the elder wyrm, how could the humans avoid extinction so far? “We will delay my gratification until after the fires die down,” Sen said, “after we obtain restitution for your previous employer’s crime.”

“Sure, sure, if we could just land somewhere safe so I could look at the map…”

No wonder that Marquise lowered herself to hire thieves. Sen too would be bitter at living in a palace with only one tower.

And one on such a small hill at that. The female human would seethe in jealousy upon seeing Sen’s own lair, made of the world’s tallest mountains. That castle had little stone walls, overseeing villages from above its mound, and manned with humans equipped with bows and arrows. They had fired a few of these toothpicks as Sen and his minion landed on their front door, with the dragon retaliating by tossing a few of the primates on the ground with his tail. After they stopped, Sen had patiently waited for them to bring their master for a civilized chat.

The castle overflowed with the smell of cats and felines, including lions, tigers, and even a sphinx, according to Sen’s nose. A flag representing a cat with boots stood at the summit of the tower, much to the dragon’s amusement.

Maybe they had good knights? It had been a while since Sen had lived up to his name.

“I have been wondering, minion, what does Marquise mean in your language?”

The minion finished stretching his legs, happy to be back on his feet. “That means she’s a noble lady. Don’t ask me where she ranks in the kingdom’s hierarchy, I just know she’s above the count that put the request for the trolls.”

A noble lady? Sen’s head Abilityed up, his Princess Sense stirring. “Is she a princess?”

“A princess? I don’t think so, no. Why?”

Disappointing. “Old habits.”

The human’s tiny eyes blinked. “Does Your Majesty kidnap princesses?”

“Sometimes, mostly elves,” Sen said, fondly remembering that particular hunting season he snatched the only elven princess of the current generation before his rivals. He had bragged to his fellow dragons for centuries afterward. “This is a very popular sport among dragonkind, since the black dragon Vren ransomed the human Princess Yseult a thousand years ago. Maybe I will take you minion on a hunting season someday.”

“Do you…” His minion hesitated, as if afraid of the answer, “Do you eat them?”

“Of course not, do you take me for a savage? I release them back in the wild when I get bored of their whining.” Or when he ran out of the food he had stored to keep them alive.

As if hearing their conversation, a chubby, two-legged cat the size of a human joined the soldiers on the walls, wearing emerald and gold jewelry that Sen immediately thought would look great atop his hoard; so would her golden fur. Two pretty human maidens attended the cat, looking fearfully at Sen.

Apparently, the owner wasn’t a human, but a catkin. “What business have you here, threatening my castle, dragon tamer?” the cat, Marquise Francesca, asked the minion.

Sen couldn’t help but laugh. humans, taming dragons? “I think you got our relationship backward!” Kyle shouted back with modesty.

“I tamed him,” Sen made a face. Even if that talking cat was probably the Marquise, she didn’t smell like a princess. She didn’t even smell like a virgin! Not worth adding to his hoard. Still, since she was noble blood, Sen deigned answer directly. “I am Sen Krendrath, King of the Valen Mountains, great calamity of this age! You sent ruffians after my silver rapier treasure, interrupting my long nap. I thereby demand half your cattle as restitution for the trouble caused, alongside the one thousand gold coins you offered for my possession.”

“Half the cattle in my marquisate?” the catkin asked with her shrill, insolent voice. “This is preposterous!”

“I had to fly two hours to get here,” Sen emphasized his pain, “Two. Hours. I burned pounds of fat and smelled the dung of your peasants coming to this place.”

“Also, Your Majesty burned the local woods coming here!” minion Kyle shouted to the Marquise. “On request of the Count of Valmere!”

“Who owes me six thousand golden coins for this service!” Sen pointed at the lead tag around his neck with his claw. “See this tag? I am an adventurer! The greatest your puny race has ever known!”

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Kyle said. “Certainly.”

The marquise let out a hiss as she squinted at the lead tag, then turned to whisper at one of her human knights. “Bring me Count Gilbert for an explanation,” Sen heard her say thanks to his good ears, before she turned to the dragon. “If I give you what you want, you will leave my lands at once?”

“That depends, do you have more quests for me?” Sen asked, eager for more gold.

“No, no, we do not,” the marquise declared with haste.

“Also, if you have a Bishop on hands, Your Majesty has theological questions!” Kyle added. “Important questions!”

“Good thinking, minion,” Sen said.

“Our chaplain is away on a diplomatic mission.” The marquise then turned to whisper to the same knight as before. “Tell our cooks to prepare a feast for King Sen. The ‘troublesome guest’ kind, with the special ingredient.”

“I will tell the cooks to put the maximum dose,” the knight added.

“We will provide you with a feast, and the reward for your noble deed!” the marquise told Sen. “I hope you shall forgive us for our lack of courtesy!”

“Only if your cattle is good!” Sen replied.

“You will find it most exquisite,” the catkin noble replied with a strange tone, before leaving with her knight.

“She’s…” Kyle struggled to find his words. “Damn, she’s a catkin. And here I thought she would be hot.”

“Not as hot as me,” Sen rolled his eyes at his chief of staff’s naivety. “You are too easily impressed, minion. My breath burns brighter than the sun. You have seen it. Of course, she would be lukewarm in comparison.”

“Yeah, at least most of the staff is human. I wonder if one of the ladies-in-waiting is single.”

“Of course they are not ‘single’, your noblewomen are rare in the wild, but not as much as princesses.” Clearly, Sen would have to finish the poor minion’s education.

As the sun began to set, armorless humans came out of the castle, bringing Sen fat, cooked sheep, pigs, and cows on carriages. A fat, obese human wearing brighter, cleaner clothes than the servants led the way, carrying purses and sweating. “Minion, is that human part of the feast?” Sen asked Kyle.

“I’m not sure, Your Majesty…”

“No, no,” the fat man sweated. “I am Gilbert, Count of Valmere.”

“Ah, the one who issued the troll request?” Sen’s head Abilityed up. The purses must contain his rewards.

“Yes, yes, I was petitioning the marquise for help getting rid of them before Your… Your Majesty solved the problem.” The count gulped as he looked at the smoke rising on the horizon. “You were very zealous…”

“I am taking my duty as an adventurer seriously,” Sen agreed, swallowing a cow whole and spitting out some meat that got stuck between his sharp fangs. “You can eat the leftovers, minion. Let it never be said that Sen starves his staff.”

The minion glanced at the feast, then at the count, noticing sweat over his forehead. “No, no, I cannot share Your Majesty’s meal,” Kyle replied. “It’s all yours.”

Such a dutiful human. Why did Sen ever bother with goblins? “You have come to deliver my reward?”

“Alongside the marquise’s gift of apology,” the sweating human said. “She said this was my duty as her vassal.”

“Indeed, what a good minion you are,” Sen said, feasting on sheep covered with a strange sauce. “Minion Kyle, count the coins. And do not dare steal them!”

“Oh, very far from my mind, Your Majesty,” Kyle replied, taking the purses and doing as asked.

Congratulations! By stomaching the poison in the food like a champ, you gained the [Lesser Poison Immunity] Ability!

“Poison? What was this? human seasoning?” The count smiled, although it strangely did not reach his ears, and sweated so much Sen wondered if he would die of it on the spot. Was he ill?

“Yes, Your Majesty,” minion Kyle said. “It’s a very bitter spice for special occasions.”

“I did not feel the taste, bring more of it!” Sen complained, the count hurriedly running to the castle and attend to his needs.

Maybe he would get a stronger Ability at the end of the feast?