“Easy there,” Cambry whispered. He smiled as she handed the sack back to him.
She pushed herself to her feet, straightening out her dress. The feeling of being watched tickled her skin again, but she didn’t believe it was this man (nor was it the rum, for that matter). Her dragon’s ears caught a twig breaking in the woods a hundred feet away and felt a sudden urge to go see who, exactly, had broken it. She held up her palm and walked the first two fingers of her other hand across it. Cambry nodded in understanding. She knew he hadn’t heard the twig snapping at such a distance (how could he?), and therefore had no problem with her taking a midnight walk.
She went away from the army and her camp, making towards the patch of woods which stretched alongside them. She passed two sentries, who bowed to her in the Lystian manner before moving on. Her dragon began stirring inside of her as she approached the tree line. Here, the strange scent was stronger. She almost recognized it, yet couldn’t quite seem to put her finger on it. She pushed some branches aside and walked into the dream she had just left.
The trees were a bit smaller (and a bit friendlier-looking, Dessica would have said), but the moonlight poured through the boughs just as it had in her dream. She made her own path, skirting roots, bushes, and low-hanging branches. The smell got stronger as she went. After several long minutes she came to a stop. Something large moved to her left. She waited to hear sounds from her other side, but they didn’t come. A musky scent filled her nostrils, and her dragon nearly roared. What was out there? Surely it couldn’t be as it was in her dream; dragons had not been seen in hundreds of years…
Then she saw the eyes.
He had been watching her while she slept, wondering what she was dreaming. He had also been eyeing her husband, trying to control the jealousy raging within him. As much as he hated to admit it, King Keelan had every right to her that he didn’t: he could stand at her side all hours of the day or night, kiss her as he pleased, claim her as his own, make love to her when he wished…
Dalton closed his eyes, forcing himself not to think of those things (or of her flesh). At least he got to do some things. After all, he was going to war to support her, he could fight to his death to save her, and he could watch her closely while being in her personal entourage. It was a blessing as well as a curse, he supposed. To watch her day and night, yet not be able to do the things to her that he so wished to do was terrible.
He saw her sit up and look around. He shuffled his weight about a little, breaking a small branch beneath his large feet. When she stood up and began to walk towards the woods in which he was hidden, he began backing up, panicking a little. Did she know he was there? Could she smell him as he so easily smelled her? His thoughts raced as he moved slowly through the forest. He stopped to listen, knowing the exact moment she entered the wood. His dragon senses were reeling from her scent and he found it hard to concentrate on anything else. She came into view a few minutes later, her dark red hair streaming down her back in those beautiful, luscious curls. He wanted to run from her, for he was afraid of the emotions rushing through him and didn’t know what he was capable of in this form. Could he control himself? Would he hurt her somehow? Dalton closed his eyes briefly as he prayed to Chin that something like that would never come to pass. When he next opened his eyes, Queen Silvia of Lystia was gazing directly at him.
He wanted to panic, but couldn’t. He was captivated by the fiery green embers of her beautiful eyes. Suddenly he felt very thirsty, and though his mind screamed at him that it was only a sad excuse to break contact with those entrancing eyes he turned around and began to walk off. A small river wound its way through the countryside a little ways ahead and he made his way there. He did not stop to look back: he knew she had followed. He drank his fill until he saw her image in the water beside him. Slowly, he straightened to his full height and looked down on her lithe frame.
“I just finished dreaming of you,” she said.
Dalton huffed a small cloud of smoke through his over-sized nostrils.
“Yes, I dreamed that your dragon and your human became one.”
He nearly stopped breathing. How had she dreamed that?! He nodded his great head to show that he understood her.
“I want you to know that I have no problem with you traveling with us, as long as you’re on our side. Can we trust that you are?”
Another nod.
She nodded as well. “Okay then. No need to hide your presence from me if you are going to be our ally. Stay in your dragon form or your human form: I care not. An extra soldier is an extra soldier, and we’re all fighting to defeat the great evil that lies before us. I’m going to go back to the camp. Stand guard if you’d like, or go rest yourself. Our journey to the witches’ mountain continues early in the morning. Good night to you, new friend.”
Quentin in truth did not wish to leave the Queen. But his brother was there to watch out for her and to protect her, if need be. He sighed as he dug his heels into his horse’s flanks to catch up with Grant and Cambry.
“Is this really necessary?”
“What? Riding ahead? Of course,” chided Sir Grant.
“I meant leaving Their Royal Highnesses behind.”
“Do you not think they have enough protection, boy?” questioned Cambry with an arched eyebrow. “There is an entire army with them, after all. Thousands of men and women to help them if they should need it.”
Quentin’s face reddened but he looked Cambry in the eye. “They are my charges, sir. I care more for their safety than I do for my own.”
Grant stepped into the conversation, sensing the younger man’s edginess. “Which is exactly why we are going ahead of them, Quentin. We have to make sure the way is safe into the city and that the King and Queen won’t be ambushed upon arrival.”
“They don’t even know we’re coming through here. How can they possibly ambush us?”
Cambry snorted. “If Queen Silvia sent an eagle about joining a war then they’ll be on the lookout out for anything out of the ordinary. A smart leader would have scouts out and about constantly to be on the alert.”
Quentin nodded, knowing he was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to leave Keelan and Silvia. He thought of all the dangers they had faced so far and overcome. The worst was still ahead, he knew. Whatever awaited them on the witches’ mountain was going to be bad for everyone. For all he knew, they might all be killed in the worst ways possible. Who knew what in the world those crazy wenches would do?
His face grew stern as he looked ahead, staring much farther than he could see.
Cambry looked over at him. “Don’t look so worried.”
“I always worry.”
“It’s a bad habit.”
“It’s a habit that has kept Silvia and my brother alive.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to worry constantly,” said Grant. “The King and Queen are fine. It’s us that are in the danger zone.”
They rode for a while in silence, the morning sun giving way to midday heat. The small troupe of men behind them talked quietly amongst themselves, glad to be away from the clamor of the big army for a change. There were only about twenty of them—Silvia didn’t want to big of a group to go, afraid the citizens would be frightened.
Sir Grant was in charge of the party, guiding them around fallen trees and over hills, steadily getting closer to Nillias. They spurred the horses to an easy gallop to cover more distance, only slowing down when the beasts began to lather. A stream was found to provide them water, and the company rested a short time before resuming their journey at a trot. The day passed quickly under the hot sun and they made good time.
Quentin saw them first out of the corner of his eye a few hours later. They were in a copse of trees, watching the horses pass. He ignored them for a few minutes and then caught Sir Grant’s attention.
“The city scouts have seen us.”
“I know. We will give them a little time to head around us and get to the city before we do. They’l
l inform the Duke and Duchess of our imminent arrival.”
“I didn’t see a thing,” Lord Cambry said in a sour tone. “I must be sleepy.” His head faced forward but his eyes had begun searching the tree lines.
“We must always be vigilant, no matter how tired we are,” said Grant. “We’ll stop and take a rest shortly.”
True to his word they stopped at the crest of the next hill, leading the horses into the shade. A guard was set, and some of the men napped—Lord Cambry included. When the sun had passed a little ways over the sky the company of men started off again, fresh with energy and on the alert.
At dusk, they reached the outskirts of the city of Nillias, passing farms and milling sheep along the way. A quarter mile from the gate of the city was a troop of soldiers atop their horses in the middle of the road.
Sir Grant brought up his hand to halt the men and then went forward with Quentin and Cambry.
A short man on a dust-colored horse pulled ahead of the other soldiers. His pale cloak fluttered behind him in the slight breeze. “What business have you here, sirs?”
“Our business is to speak with your Lord and Lady,” Sir Grant replied.
The man looked at each one of them directly, his brown eyes narrowing. “Concerning what?”
“They should have received the eagle bearing our news by now.”
“Ah, that.” The man turned his horse and began walking it around them slowly. “Don’t know if they’ll be much obliged to join in any wars.”
Lord Cambry sneered. “That’s why they’re the leaders and you’re not. They make the decisions.”
The man stopped his horse and glared at him. “Watch your tongue, lest it be cut out.”
“Enough foolishness,” Quentin said loudly. Everyone turned to look at him. “My brother is King Keelan of Lystia and he travels here with his wife, Queen Silvia, to speak with the Duke and Duchess. The least you could do is hold your tongue and fetch your masters. We’ve traveled long and far and will not tolerate much more nonsense from the likes of you.”
The man rode up to Quentin and looked at him closely. “How is your hair so white and your face so young?”
“That’s from a spell put on me by the son of Rohedon, who is now dead by the hands of our Queen.”
The man’s face paled. “He’s truly dead, then?”
“That he is.”
The dust-colored horse danced in a small circle as the man thought about Quentin’s words. “If he is dead, no one is there to control the witches of the mountain. This bodes badly for all of us. Come with me. I’ll take you to meet the Duchess.”
“With all due respect, I’d rather ride back out and tell my King and Queen that we are now expected,” said Quentin firmly. Grant looked at him sharply for his break in political etiquette, but he ignored it.
“All right then. We’ll be waiting for your return, sir. Tell the guards at the gate that Lenard said to let you in.” The short man nodded to them and led his horse away.
Sir Grant said to Quentin, “You’re quiet, but assertive. He respected that…as do I. Let’s head back, gentlemen.”
Keelan watched her closely. She seemed more relaxed, but not necessarily towards him. She chatted Maura up constantly about the journey and how her people were fairing.
Such a kind and caring queen. His queen. He grunted in disgust with himself and looked away from her, his eyes stretching out over the thousands of men and women behind them.
Never would he ever have imagined that he’d be by her side, leading an army of thousands and thousands of people to fight in a land far away. A short time ago, he was a nobody, slinking around in Silvia’s dreams to keep his own brother from killing her. How could so much change in such little time?
“Thinking of what lies ahead, King Keelan?”
Keelan turned to see the Prince of Wexford strolling up to him. Jealousy pulled at him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed it back. “Yes and no. I think of many things.”
“Such as?”
“Must everything concern you?” Keelan growled.
“When it comes to this war—yes. I’m helping in every way I can to ensure that we win this war. I think I deserve to be in the middle of everything.” His eyes flickered to a point not far away, where a flash of emerald green was walking through the army.
Keelan caught it. “You cannot be in the middle of my wife and I. That would not be a good place for you.”
“Is that a warning?”
“It’s a promise.” Keelan watched his wife as she glided among their people, stopping often to speak to them one on one. Two Royal Guards flanked her protectively.
“I’m not here to take your wife, or make you think that I will step in between you,” said Dalton. “She’s a beautiful woman, young and intelligent. Everyone loves her. And you need to be prepared.”
Keelan glared at him. “Prepared for what?”
“For other men to constantly be falling in love with your wife.”
The King stood taller and placed his hands on his hips, close to his sword. “Are you in love with her, Dalton?”
Dalton looked him in the eye. “I love her, but I am not in love with her. There’s a difference. And I will not let it get in the way of what I came here to do. Nor will I interfere with your marriage.”
“You’d better not. If I find out that you have been the least bit disrespectful towards me or my wife, I’ll have you for treason.”
The prince arched an eyebrow. “You need not worry about me, Your Majesty. Unlike some, I am able to hold myself back from that which tempts me.” He turned and strode off, leaving the King of Lystia fuming in his wake.
“There’s a face that’s becoming more and more familiar.”
Vyto twisted around to see the Queen approaching him, a beautiful smile lighting up her face. He smiled in turn. “Good day, Your Highness.”
“Good day to you as well, Vyto,” she said. “I came by to check on your feet.”
His smile broadened. “They’re better than ever, milady. All thanks to you. I am indebted to your grace.”
She shook her head. “It is we who are indebted to you. Without you, many more would have died when those foul creatures attacked. And I have seen how you care for your fellow soldiers. You are a good man, Vyto.”
“I’ve been trying to tell him that for a while now,” said Gordy as he walked up. He handed Vyto an apple as he munched on one himself.
“And you are a good friend to him,” Silvia said. “You looked out for him when he was too busy caring for others to look after himself. He is lucky to have you.”
Gordy took a big bite of his apple and looked away, his ears turning bright red.
“Vyto, I have come to talk to you about something important.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I lost a commanding officer during the attack. Now I have two hundred and fifty men and women without a leader. I need someone to fill in that void—someone who can take over without their head swelling about it. Are you up for the challenge?”
He stopped chewing on his apple. “Excuse me?”
“I want you to be a general in my army. Will you do it?”
“Well, I don’t know. That’s an awful lot of responsibility,” he mumbled.
“No greater a responsibility than what you take on now,” the queen said.
“If Gordy goes with me, then yes. I will not go without him.”
“Done,” Silvia said. “Gather your things and I will take you to your new troupe.”
Vyto took a large bite of the apple and put it in an oversized pocket on his vest. He gathered his belongings, which consisted of a few bags and two water satchels. Gordy gathered his bags and an extra pair of boots he had come across and followed them. The company of soldiers Vyto was now to lead was located just behind and to the left of the Queen’s entourage. He had seen many of them before. Some were very skilled fighters. Most, however, were not. He made a mental note to change that before they reached thei
r final destination.
Queen Silvia had General George get the troupe’s attention before she attempted to speak over the babble. “I know you have heard that your general, Jascus, perished in the last battle. We still mourn his loss, however we need someone to replace him. After careful consideration, I have decided to give such a burden to this gentleman, who has proven himself worthy to lead you.” She gestured at Vyto, who grunted at the company before him. “General Vyto will further instruct you in everything you need to do. That is all.”
Of Gods and Dragons Page 23
