The Dragon’s Quest

About The Dragon’s Quest

Dragon’s Fall is a novel in five acts. The Dragon’s Quest is the second act and is included in the novel Dragon’s Fall: Rise of the Scarlet Order.

The Dragon’s Quest is set in Britain at the fall of the Roman age. The story ties the Dragon’s Fall series to the Arthurian legends to create a vivid new twist with a paranormal edge.

Aonghas Deas-Mhumhan — called Desmond — is a dragon lord in the service of King Ambrosius. He longs for the king’s daughter, the beautiful Guinevere. However, her heart belongs to the king’s young ally, L’ancelot.

When Desmond and his friend Arthur are sent to battle Saxon invaders, Desmond is mortally wounded. He is saved by Wolf, a vampire who seeks the Holy Grail in hopes that it might bring salvation to their kind. Desmond knows he and Wolf cannot find the Grail alone. He returns to court where he finds that Guinevere is pledged to Arthur but still longs for L’ancelot. Now king, Arthur is anxious to remove L’ancelot from court for a time, so he agrees to Desmond’s request for aid in the search for the Grail cup.

Though Desmond, L’ancelot and Wolf find the Grail, they discover that an ancient being of great power defends it. Wolf is killed and Desmond realizes that they have not found the salvation they sought. His quest for salvation – and for love – will continue elsewhere.

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Excerpt from The Dragon’s Quest

A tall woman with golden hair and a thin, aquiline nose moved through the bustle of the great hall and sat down on the bench next to Desmond. She was draped in fine linen, imported from Rome. No one could miss Ambrosius’s daughter, Guinevere. Desmond smiled at her, then slipped a scrap from his plate to the dog and patted it on the side. He turned to face her. “I was hoping I would get to see you,” he said.

She set her hand upon his wrist—as much as she dare do in the crowded hall—and looked at the Dragon’s plate and his goblet. She frowned. “You’ve hardly touched your food. Are you well?”

“Well enough,” said Desmond with a ghost of a smile. “You know me, I’m happier with the quiet of the meadow than the boisterousness of the feast hall.”

“And happier still in the heat of battle than in times of peace.”

Desmond snorted. “No, it’s not that.” He looked around the hall. Two young men were wrestling in the front of the hall, each trying to win favor in the eyes of Ambrosius and Arthur. In a corner, a bard was strumming a harp, preparing to tell a story to those gathered. “No, I almost envy the bards and their ability to collect and retell stories.”

Guinevere squeezed Desmond’s wrist. “You would grow bored doing nothing but collecting tales of battles won and lost.”

“They also tell of how the gods created the earth and man.” He turned and looked her in the eye. “Have you never wondered if there was more to those legends? Have you never wondered about the world beyond Britain?”

Guinevere laughed lightly. “You worry about things beyond your control, Desmond.” She looked up at the head table. “You should worry why it is that Arthur sits next to Ambrosius and not you. You’re the one that brought about the victory at Bassus, not Arthur. You are the one that preserves the Roman ways, not Arthur. You’re the one who possesses knowledge, not…”

“Yes,” said Desmond dismissively, “but Arthur is a genial man, as is Ambrosius. Myrddin is the power behind the Duke.”

“That may be true, but I fear my father may choose a husband for me and he may choose Arthur and not you.”

Desmond frowned. “What do you suppose Arthur and your father are speaking about?” He reached out and took his goblet. “Do you know?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is where I’m going.” Guinevere stood from the table and casually stepped toward the door of the great hall. A few minutes later, Desmond looked around and then followed her outside…

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