“I can’t Trump us there because I’ve never been, haven’t seen it or even own a set of Trumps,” I answered her first question at last. “I don’t have any pockets in my Dragon suit.”
She laughed. “So I see. Nor in your birthday suit. Don’t worry, Raven. We’ll figure out how to fix you.”
“I hope so, Roelle,” I sighed and searched for a safe place to sleep. Scooted up onto the tent flap when someone knocked on the tent pole. The flap opened to reveal Marcus with his cape over his shoulders.
“Come in, Marcus,” Roelle said rolling her eyes. He threw himself into her chair and babbled away until she told him to be quiet so she could finally understand him.
“Where is he? I know he’s here, I sensed the magic he leaves behind. I’m worried; I haven’t seen him in days.”
“Raven,” she called and I flew down to land on the table in front of him. He noticed the map.
“Oh. Were you showing him the way to Khafra? It’s not on this map. Where have you been hiding, Raven? Have you eaten? Where are you staying? You can’t let anyone see you or they’ll send you back.”
“Marcus, no one can send me anywhere. Have you forgotten I’m a dragon?” I returned hopping from foot to foot.
“You’re a pint-size Dragon, Raven,” he pointed out. “And not exactly scary or omnipotent at this size.” I bit his finger and he yelped, knocking over the lamp, which I caught before he could set the place on fire.
“Idiot!” I hissed and blew a flame hot enough to scorch his shirt. “Great partners in crime, you two. I’m lucky if I make it out of the district. Now, I’m going to sleep. Try not to burn the tent down, incite a riot or spell my whereabouts to the guard.”
“Where are you going to sleep, Raven?” Roelle asked.
“Someplace warm.” I snuggled my way under her covers to the foot of her cot, turned a few times and made myself a nest. I heard Marcus’ grumblings, Roelle’s light laughter and shut everything out as I slipped into a delicious languor. I didn’t make more than a mild protest when two cold feet stuck themselves onto my back. I wasn’t too long after that my body heat rapidly warmed her to toasty. She didn’t move much and I slept tightly wound into a coil so that I resembled nothing so much as a ball of black scales. Not that anyone would catch me sleeping.
I woke before anyone else. Except perhaps for the two guards whose turn it was to patrol. Just before the sun rose and too early to be called dawn, I pushed my way up past Roelle’s spread-eagled form and went hunting for breakfast.
I was large enough to take down birds and small enough to worry about owls but even though I saw them, my smell or strangeness warned them away. I dined on mourning dove and woodcock, even a smallish turkey although I had to struggle to lift it.
Coming back to camp, I watched from a branch atop a lonesome pine as they began to stir. First up were the teamsters, feeding and caring for their stock. Next, the company clerk who whipped up the fires and began breakfast after putting tea and coffee onto boil. Last, to stir were the soldiers who had pulled first guard duty. I was surprised to see both Marcus and Roelle up at first light. He busied himself with chores, carrying water buckets, kindling and buckets of oats before he went to help cook.
Roelle’s maid tried to help her dress but she sent the woman away to do her own needs. When I was sure she was alone, I flew down to land on her arm.
“Good morning, Raven,” she greeted and stretched. “Are you hungry?”
“Good morning, Roelle,” I said enjoying the sight of her supple body in linen shift, bare feet and unbound hair. She looked fresh and dewy, heavy eyed and sensual. I wanted desperately to kiss her. She planted a feathery touch on my chest before I could blink. “That’s for keeping my feet toasty warm last night, Raven. I’m starving. Care to see what’s for breakfast?”
“Cold rabbit stew, probably,” I grinned, my heart as light as a wizard’s promise.
“Do you mean to show yourself?”
“You think they’ll recognize me or think I’m some strange forest bird?” I countered.
“Wait until we’re a week out. It’ll be too late to return you by then. You can ride on my saddlebow under my cloak. Or do you prefer to fly?”
“Let me scout around,” I decided. “I can keep an eye out ahead for you; make sure we’re safe from any bandits. Although, the roads have been safe for months since Murphy and I decimated that band of highwaymen.”
“You and Murphy have made Amber safe for all her travelers,” she agreed.
“Are you excited to be going home, Roelle?” I was surprised when her face fell and she hesitated.
“You know my youngest brother is the last to marry.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I fear that my parents will set their sights on me next,” she whispered. The thought twisted my stomach. I did not like the idea.
“Who? Anyone in particular?” I knew such marriages were usually for political gain and arranged. Although no one would force her but her parents could make her life miserable if they so choose. Vialle’s marriage to Random had been arranged. Just lucky that they’d fallen in love. I wanted that for me, I wanted to experience everything that someone my age would have been destined to experience. All that had been taken from me from me almost at my very birth.
“Roelle, no one will make you marry anyone you don’t love. I swear it on my Dragon blood and bones,” I bowed and such was the magic of that vow that it rippled forth throughout the tent, the camp and the clearing. Everyone felt it and as the sounds of the camp ceased, Roelle turned frightened eyes on me.
“Everyone will know magic is done here, Raven.”
Marcus bolted into the tent. “Raven? Did you do that?” More faces joined him before I could fly off and surprised voices raised in tone. They proclaimed Marcus as the wielder of spells assuming he had conjured me to his whim. I let him take the credit; it was as good an explanation that I could’ve come up with and so I rode on the wagons, on Roelle’s saddlebow and flew rounds to help the soldiers.
Chapter 5
The trip was pleasant enough, our pace restricted to what the draft team could pull in one day. Some five leagues in all. We could take time out at evening to fish the streams and walk the laybys off the main road. Marcus and a guard remained close while Roelle picked herbs to dry for her apothecary jars.
Some nights, Marcus cooked for us. His fresh brook trout with wild fennel was divine and I ate enough for two grown men. When they complained that I hadn’t left much for them to sample, I went fishing and dropped four fat trout at their feet. That shut them up. I took to supplementing our meals with turkey, pheasant, rabbit and woodcock caught in my taloned hands.
The week passed quickly and I enjoyed the time spent without the constant supervision and the myriad chores that my keepers had kept me occupied in doing so that my mind had no time to brood.
Roelle’s mount was her favorite, a pale rose-colored gelding that took my fluttering, coming and goings with equal aplomb. I was resting on the saddle when the first people started to walk into sight, sharing the road with us. Farmers and the like on the way to market.
They studied the men’s livery and recognized it, which brought smiles to their faces. They were obviously glad to see Amber’s military presence. In fact, they said so chattering with the guard and asking many questions especially when they saw me. I kept quiet. It was bad enough that they saw me at all, let alone heard me speak. I wasn’t exactly an everyday item.
Offers came to spend the night in town at one of the many comfortable inns and to sample food cooked inside instead of out. I thought that maybe they were hoping we had goods to sell. Roelle just smiled and said we were on our way home for a wedding.
I was nearly as excited about seeing another village instead of trees and woods that I fairly buzzed like a beecatcher. We came into town on a road that met at a cross junction, cobblestoned and guttered so that the rain drew off to the sides and kept the lane dry and mud free.
F
lowers had been planted in half barrels along the way and for the last mile into town. The village itself was pretty with neat little two story cottages that met over the avenues and connected both above and below. Trees were part of the sidewalks, which were bricked or cobblestoned. In short, it resembled those quaint Swiss villages seen on our travels through Europe. It smelled good, too. Fresh baked bread, cinnamon rolls and pork roasting on a spit.
Our guide drove the wagons through to the hostlers and put the animals up before he took us all to a charming inn whose curtains blew in the slight breeze.
Roelle chattered happily saying she couldn’t wait for a bath and to wash her hair. Marcus rolled his eyes and ask if I wanted to visit a few taverns. Remembering the last time we’d done so, I hesitated.
“Oh come on, you’re a Dragon,” he pouted. “What could happen?”
I looked at the curious crowd that were eyeballing me and climbed up to hide in the folds of his hood. “Okay then, Roelle. We’re off for a pint or two. When you’re done bathing, let’s go eat.”
“As if you’ll be sober enough,” she snorted and entered the doors of the Jolly Maiden. “Meet me back here at dark,” she called out from the second story window. “Our rooms are 2B and 2C.”
“Got it, see you,” I called and pinched his ear.
“Owww!” He complained. “What did you do that for?”
“Stop being a baby,” I said and he stomped off to find the nearest tavern. The crowd of kids followed us right inside pestering Marcus with questions about me. Was I a pet? What was I called? Were there more of me and how much did I cost. Would he sell me? What did I eat? One little girl wanted to know if I was dangerous. Marcus answered all their queries patiently and lied on every one. Unfortunately, he made me even more rare and exotic than I already was. The only thing he didn’t tell them was that I could talk or that I was a human stuck in a Dragon form or was a real Dragon. He told them that I was a wyvern, a recent hatchling from the shadow called Hades. This was where parents told their children they would go if they misbehaved. The land of goblins, orcs and shadow creatures, which they were well aware, were real, as Eric had opened Amber up to them. Demons drawn in by shadow storms caused by a blight on the Primal Pattern, they had wreaked havoc on the peaceful villagers until my grandfather Corwin had staged an ill-fated coup. No one had seen anyone or anything like it since Random had been crowned and the Pattern rebuilt.
The inside of the Vigilant Vintner looked like an ordinary Irish bar with comfortable leather benches, booths, tables and a long granite countertop behind which stood the bartender. She was a lady, buxom and with a no-nonsense manner. She had arms like Popeye’s; I wouldn’t wager I’d win in a wrestling match. She greeted Marcus and shooed all the kids out as she tossed a beer bottle down the counter top towards him. He caught it deftly and I crawled out of his hood.
“Pink wine for my friend,” he ordered and she just nodded pouring a wine glass full. I buried my head in up to my horns and inhaled. Sweet, fruity and full of bubbles, I drank half the glass in one swallow and savored the rest. Marcus sipped at his beer and sat at the bar on one of those tall stools that had always annoyed me. When I was younger and short, I could never climb on without Murphy’s help.
“Your friend have a name?” She asked and Marcus turned his attention from the small crowd in the bar. Most of them were townspeople with a few farmers and some soldier types minus any uniform insignia so were probably mercenaries for hire. Although, there were slim pickings in the area, no skirmishes and no highwayman left after Murphy and I had decimated the brigand bands.
“Raven? He’s a wyvern, a hatchling from a clutch I found last spring. They’re like a miniature Dragon, more like a lizard really. Cute pets but their temperaments are a bit difficult,” he returned. I hissed at him and burped. With so much wine down my throat, it came out a puff of rose scented smoke.
“Oh how cute,” she cooed. “He blows smoke rings. Is he for sale?”
“No. We’ve been through much together. He’s like my…brother,” Marcus stated. Three of the mercenaries stared at him but their interest flagged when Sgt. Pire walked in the bar with two of his squad. His eyes dissected the occupants and judged them before he stood at our side and ordered a beer. He spoke softly so that only Marcus could hear him.
“The creature’s attracting all the wrong attention, son. The Lord Mayor wants to see it.” He stared at me, a thoughtful look on his face and I kept my good eye towards him. “Tis passing strange we haven’t seen hide nor hair of Prince Raven before we’d left Amber, is it not, Marcus?”
I swallowed the rest of my wine, belched and fell over as if I were drunk. Marcus reacted quickly, scooping me up and covering me. “Poor thing, he can’t hold his liquor,” he stuttered. “I’d best get him back to his cage.”
“Where did you get the creature, Marcus?”
“I conjured him from a spell, Sergeant. The same one that I used to make those rabbits turn into flying cats.”
“It’s a good thing you’ve made progress, boy. Can you imagine pigs flying? Still, the thing looks like Raven, just in miniature. You haven’t done something you’ll regret, have you Marcus?”
“No, Sgt. Pire. Never. I would never hurt Raven or Roelle. I swear by my heart’s blood,” he said, his face as open and honest as his heart.
The Sergeant stared at him for a beat and then said, “Good. For if you did, Marcus, I would have to kill you.” With that, he ushered Marcus out and back to the Inn where we spent an uncomfortable hour in the dining room eating under the watchful eyes of the Sergeant and Roelle’s companion.
I had perked up as soon as the fresh air hit me and flown away to both of their protests telling Marcus I was going hunting for my own dinner. I had in mind a nice chicken on the wing and figured I could snatch one or two hens without causing too much of a commotion.
Pleasantly full, I flew back over the town and felt that dragging sensation that told me the sun was soon to set and I need to be somewhere safe and secure.
Roelle’s room was lit and I could hear her singing. When I flew in, she was in her bathtub washing her hair. She smelled wonderful and was a sight to make me drool. Rosy cheeked and pink, covered with soft foamy bubbles, white shouldered and soft rounded arms with the rest left to my fevered imagination. I sighed and it conveyed longing, dismay and despair. She acted as if I were no more than her pet dog. “Hi, Raven. Did you have a good time? Ready for dinner?”
She climbed out and wrapped herself in a plush towel while Lily, her companion helped her into a robe and dried her hair. I crawled up the bed skirts and buried myself in the comforter suddenly exhausted and despondent. She cradled me. Her hands were warm as they stroked me and beads of pearly water dripped onto my scales.
“What’s wrong, Raven?”
I was desperate to tell her and afraid to. Instead, I said, “I’m far away from the magic of the Unicorn’s Bower. I’m afraid the enchantment will fade and with it, me.”
“Oh Raven. Do you want to go back? If you’re in danger, that’s what we should do.”
“Roelle, I –” I paused. “I would rather cease to exist then know I can never hold you again.”
“No, Raven. As long as you are live, there’s hope for you. After all you’ve lived through, I believe that Fate will reward you with your deepest wish.” She kissed me gently on the head. “Sleep, my Prince and dream of those days when we were only mortal.” I obeyed her, barely heard her leave the room but was aware when she returned to join me on the bed where we slept until the dawn.
Chapter 6
We spent only a few hours past dawn in the village, just long enough to restock those things we’d used up already, like oats and fodder for the horses. I stayed close to Roelle and Marcus and our trip passed quickly. From the town, several others followed us on the road. After two days in our company, they left us at the fork, which Sgt. Pire said went to the next largest town on Roelle’s map. Good-sized, it had a port on the River Wick
that led to the Golden Sea where most folk left for Erebnor and Cabra. Having spent months at the lighthouse, I vaguely knew its direction. I was glad to see them go, they’d been entirely too interested in both the wagon train and me. Of course, anyone thinking to take on the King’s guard and a dragon had to be insane.
We finally pulled into the Barony of Loest in the late afternoon. I saw a respectable manor house too small to be called a Castle and yet too large to be anything but an estate. Four stories and built of rose red stones, it sat against a mountain outcrop somewhat reminiscent of a fat mushroom. In a charming way. A moat and a drawbridge surrounded it and throngs of people lined the roadway up towards the gates. I was surprised to learn that the mountain split behind the place and opened up into a nice little village protected on all three sides by the rock walls. Good-sized farm holdings were inside the canyon, a village of over a thousand with a lake large enough to serve the entire system and a river that came up from under the mountain walls.
A perfect place to defend against a much larger army. Later, after I had met Roelle’s family, I had flown over the escarpment and realized that only a determined and trained elite force could climb in and attack from up there. So they were relatively safe from all but Chaos demons.
Her brothers and parents came out to greet her. Hugs and handshakes were given all around even extending to Marcus and the Sergeant. I learned he’d come from the neighborhood and was sorely missed. At last, we were ushered inside the house and her parents turned to me.
“What is it, Roelle?” The Baron asked, eyes alight with wonder. “We heard you are great friends with the Black Dragon. Is this his fledgling?”
Marcus answered for her. “It is a fledgling wyvern from a far shadow, Sir Rouen. I conjured it with a spell and it is bonded to Roelle or me. With anyone else, it would simply fly off and revert back to its world.”
“Is it dangerous? Intelligent?” Her mother asked.