But from the sea harbor visible in the east to the bald-topped mountain in the west, the land belonged to Hurog. By the standards of the Five Kingdoms, Hurog was only a small keep, barely able to support itself from the meager harvest the north climate and rocky soils allowed. The ancient fortress's dark stone walls rose protectively around the keep, formidable still, though there was little chance of enemy attack now. On each door, worn by years of harsh northern weather, a bas-relief bronze dragon kept watch over the valley below.īelow me, Hurog Keep perched on its man-made eyrie. Because the ground was angled, the tops of the doors were higher by several feet than the bottoms. The doors were huge, each as wide as I was tall and twice that in length. 1-WARDWICK OF HUROGīreathing heavily from the climb, I sat upon the ancient bronze doors some long-distant ancestor had placed flat into the highest face of the mountain. As always, the mistakes are mine, but there are fewer of them because of these folks. To Big Cesar (Engine #9), Sirocco, Scratch, Skipper W, Teddy, Hussan, MonAmi, Meekum, and the rest of the Terra Verde Crowd, to Gazania, and my own Nahero, who allow me to make characters of my fictional horses. To Virginia Kidd, Jim Allen, Linn Prentis, and the rest of the folks at the Virginia Kidd Agency for their patience and wisdom. To Mike Briggs, Kaye Roberson, Anne Sowards, Nanci McCloskey, and the Wordos of Eugene, who read through the rough stuff and gave me good advice.

Dragon Bones by Patricia Briggs