Caledonia Destiny

by Lexi Ander

  Roi nudged the platter of food closer to Ewen, yet Ewen knew not if he could partake without becoming ill. “This puzzle cannot be solved this night,” Roi said, taking a morsel for himself. “The day has been long. Eating shall bestow strength upon ye and clear yer mind.”

  Ewen ignored the food, pushing it aside. “I do not think we can afford to believe the sorcerers—warloghes—do not know of us. It be overmuch of a coincidence that Cináed and his family be hiding their natures and that warloghes have, unbeknownst to us, claimed a section of the forest.”

  He frowned when Roi pushed the platter back in place afore Ewen. “You know Cináed holds no love for me.” Ewen met Donn’s gaze. “He be ambitious and, I suspect, backed the King of the Isles’ invasion. He came to visit many a time, and it be possible he be responsible for the markings Roi found.”

  Roi distracted Ewen by offering up a morsel for Ewen to eat. To appease Roi, Ewen took it and chewed slowly. When he glanced down the table he caught Avory staring at Roi with a puzzled expression. When Avory noticed he had Ewen’s attention he averted his gaze, only for it to return moments later.

  Ewen had enough. He did not know what bespelled Avory. Roi readily accepted him, but Avory continued to be a stranger in Ewen’s home. He could not deny that Donn gazed at Avory with a soft, besotted countenance Ewen had not witnessed since they were boys. He would never deny Donn his marrae or come betwixt them, but something about Avory… Mayhap Ewen needed rest, mayhap he was mistaking Bear’s lack of reaction to Avory for something it was not. For certes, Bear puzzled Ewen, his watchful silence mixed with a sense of growing expectation.

  Aye, Roi be right, rest was what he needed. The morrow would be clearer and shed a better light upon the day’s revelations.

  XXV

  EWEN BREATHED DEEP and even in his sleep, unmindful that Roi watched him. A single candle burned upon the small table next to Roi’s side of the large, soft bed. He had never slept upon a mattress filled with down afore, a luxury not commonly found amongst most homes, even some of the nobles’. The lack of firmness made sleep elusive, that and the thoughts crowding Roi’s mind, harassing him with a sense of urgency that had latched upon him after speaking with the crone.

  He prayed his guesswork was skewed but all the clues pointed to an end he was loath to bear. If he did not discover a way to help Ewen break this curse, Roi feared Ewen and his people would soon disappear from the world, lost to the forest at more tender ages until none of the wyrbears took human form again.

  As he watched the glow from the candlelight play across Ewen’s features, Roi chastised himself for his earlier small and petty worries. Ages could wax and wane, civilizations rise and fall, yet he would ever love Ewen. No matter what Roi need endure, he would gladly persevere to remain by Ewen’s side. If Ewen had to take twenty women to his bed to protect his people from the world without, then Roi would be the one waiting for him when he returned home. For as Roi beheld the debauched angel sprawled next to him, he understood Ewen’s duty to his kin superseded all else. Nay, he would not withhold Ewen from doing what must be done. Ewen would evermore return to Roi. He would be the one Ewen would love for the rest of his life. Naught else mattered.

  Regardless of what would come, the trials they would bear, Ewen was Roi’s and only Roi’s. Had Ewen not already told Roi this in a hundred different ways? From the way Ewen beheld him, to the discreet touches, and the ravenous way Ewen had devoured him in this very bed? The only way Roi would lose him was if Roi did not puzzle out the riddle of the curse.

  Trailing his gaze over Ewen’s bare chest, Roi studied the markings placed there by Master Yingjie at Ewen’s granda’s behest. The knot was sizable and intricate. As a priest of Cerridwen, he could discern enough of the symbols and sacred markings to understand that Ewen’s tattoos were key to vanquishing the curse.

  Glancing back at Ewen’s chest, Roi’s gaze followed the thick lines of the knot that wrapped over and around each other much like a ball of twine. The picture of the binding was as large as the palm of his hand, yet beginning and ending obscured both, hidden from the eye. The magick of the looping knot upon Ewen’s chest was clearly anchored by the five-pointed star upon his lower arm. Roi hovered his hand over the markings on Ewen’s chest, not quite touching as he tentatively probed the magick that trapped Ewen’s mathan in his body. Freeing Bear would help right one aspect of the curse, and mayhap give them more time to figure out how to break the curse completely. But how to break the magical connection betwixt the two tattoos?

  Once the anchor, the star on Ewen’s forearm, was broken, then Roi could unravel the knot.

  Frustration ate at him because he did not know how to go about it. Roi afeard only a sorcerer’s knowledge could cipher the riddle of the knot. He knew not if he could persuade Ewen to seek help from a people Ewen had cause to distrust. Yet if the knot could be unravelled, then the only task left for Roi would be to free—

  His thoughts scattered when something moved upon Ewen’s skin.

  Awed, Roi stared at the brilliant blue eye of the wyrm that adorned Ewen’s arm and shoulder. Roi blinked, and blinked again, for surely he was mistaken. The only tattoo that held any colour was the star, so how could the wyrm have blue eyes? The wyrm was shaped by bold but intricate black lines, its head resting over Ewen’s shoulder and its long, sinuous body wrapped down the length of Ewen’s arm, the tip of its tail not quite touching the star. If wyrm was the correct name for the creature, for in Norse lore such creatures were sea serpents. Ewen sometimes called it a drakon, but like dragon, neither name fit. Though the body had four legs and was scaled, sinewy, and serpentine, the resemblance stopped there. The mane and horns could not be found on any drakon heraldry Roi had seen ere now. What had Ewen’s Master Yingjie called this creature. Lung? No, loong.

  Even as Roi mused over the differences between wyrms, drakons, and dragons, he could not tear his gaze from the tattoo. Had he paid so little attention to not notice the eye was coloured a blue as bright as the sky at midday?

  The loong’s blue eye blinked.

  Startled nigh out of his skin, Roi rolled and fell off the bed, hitting the cold stone floor. His hip and shoulder would be bruised in the morn, but Roi cared not. Peering over the edge of the bed, he stared at the loong, his heart beating hard and fast as he awaited what it would do next. The eye blinked again. No trick of light then, befuddling his sight.

  Yet the creature did not twitch, simply stared back at him. Was it somehow truly animate?

  Still peering over the edge, needing to test his outlandish theory, Roi scooted down the length of the bed, mesmerized by the way the loong’s gaze followed him. Like a child enthralled with a new discovery, Roi shifted back and forth time and again, watching as only the loong’s eyes moved to trace his path.

  How long he and the loong stared at each other in wonder, Roi knew not. The chill of the floor and the ache in his knees eventually prompted Roi to move back to the dubious comfort of the mattress. Lying down upon his side next to Ewen, he continued to watch the loong, utterly fascinated. Roi had never seen or heard of such a thing afore. After hearing Ewen’s story of Master Yingjie, Roi had suspected the master was other, not a sorcerer but something else altogether. And now, with the actions of the loong, Roi grew more confused. As Roi stared, captured by the blue eye that seemed to burn brighter with every passing moment, he wondered what purpose such a creature served.

  Oddly, Roi’s eyelids grew heavy even though he was wide awake. For some reason he could not break the loong’s gaze. Though he scrambled for an explanation, Roi’s limbs became weighted as if he were buried under a mound of rocks.

  Ewen rolled over and propped himself upon an elbow, obscuring Roi’s view of the loong.

  Roi’s mouth moved not when he attempted to call Ewen’s name. Leaning down, Ewen’s gaze met Roi’s, brow furrowing in evident concern. He petted Roi comfortingly, as if he could taste the sudden spike of fear that surged through Roi, or had he heard the quic
kened pace of Roi’s pounding heart?

  What spell had the loong placed upon him that could affect his body but not his mind? More importantly, why? If Ewen needed help, Roi would freely give whatever Ewen needed. Yet Bear would not harm Ewen apurpose, nor did Roi believe the loong would either. Could he not then surmise that they would in turn cause him no harm, because Ewen would thereby be hurt if ill befell Roi?

  However, Roi’s body, now frozen and useless to him, disagreed with his reasoning, for his heart pounded like the thundering of horse’s hooves and his breath came in quick pants. It was then that he noticed Ewen’s eyes were neither their usual hazel colour nor Bear’s golden hue. Nay, rather they were the same blue as the loong’s.

  Ewen rolled Roi onto his stomach, making sure his head was turned to the side and not smothered by the ticking of the mattress. Roi’s skin tingled where Ewen slid deft hands down his spine, and Roi would have tensed under the touch if he could have when Ewen began to trace the edges of Roi’s birthmark. Ewen had not touched him there after the first time. Now, as his fingertips lightly traced the edge, a sensation built in Roi’s lower gut, not unlike arousal but with a bite to it that caused Roi’s breath to hitch. He wanted to squirm away, for though Ewen’s touch was light, pressure built beneath Roi’s birthmark.

  Over the rush of blood pounding in his ears, Roi barely heard the words Ewen muttered. Needing to know, he pushed past the rising panic and concentrated upon Ewen’s voice, slowly coming to recognize a list of plants. Something gripped Roi’s spine and tugged—not Ewen, for he could still feel the press of Ewen’s fingers upon his skin. The uncomfortable sensation worked its way up Roi’s back until it reached the nape of his neck. Breaths pressed past Roi’s lips, quick and loud, yet he suffocated. He wanted to scream, to flail, to run, but he was effectively shackled in place, frozen. And Ewen continued to mumble, oblivious to Roi’s distress.

  Just when Roi thought he could take no more, and was beginning to wish for the oblivion of unconsciousness, Ewen began to shake. Abruptly, he fell onto his side facing Roi. The blue in his eyes had vanished. Instead, Bear’s golden eyes were wide, Ewen’s jaw clenched, neck muscles taut and corded as his body convulsed.

  Then Ewen’s eyes changed from golden to a brilliant blue. Back and forth the colour flickered, as if an internal war was being waged. Roi watched, the thought belatedly dawning upon him that the loong, not Bear or Ewen, had been in control of Ewen’s body. The loong had used Ewen to speak to him, given Roi instructions, but to what purpose? Now Roi was witnessing an internal battle betwixt the loong and Bear.

  The blue of the loong’s eyes burned bright and hot, for the moment seemingly winning the battle against Bear. “If you follow my instructions, seer, you can free both mathan and man,” the loong hissed out just afore Ewen’s back bowed and Bear’s roar rent through the room.

  The weight of the mountain restraining Roi disappeared.

  Ewen’s cloudy hazel gaze searched the dark corners of the room. “What do you mean, you confounding beast? I see no danger.” Ewen stilled as if he listened, his gaze snapping back to Roi. “Beloved!”

  Utter exhaustion clawed at Roi, his limbs too heavy to move. Ewen scrambled across the bed, his hand hovering over Roi’s face as if he were afeard to touch. The strong scent of copper filled Roi’s nose. Was he bleeding?

  “By the gods, what happened?” Panic strained Ewen’s voice.

  Unable to find energy to explain, wishing only for blissful rest, Roi closed his eyes.

  “Nay! Keep your eyes upon me,” Ewen demanded, his large, rough hand gripping Roi’s shoulder.

  The pain was immediate, the skin of Roi’s back afire, awash in agony unlike any other. His scream startled Ewen, causing him to pull away. The sound of the door bursting open reverberated through the chamber, followed by the pounding of booted feet. Roi sucked in air through his teeth, blinking back tears of pain to confront this new danger.

  “What have ye done?” Donn demanded, his voice tinged with anger; Roi could only guess at what he thought.

  Ewen growled and lunged over Roi, and for a moment he lost sight of Ewen. The bed jostled, and Roi attempted to move out of the way, but afore he could, Donn and Ewen rolled back into his sight as they wrestled across the floor.

  “Do not touch him!” Ewen bellowed afore he and Donn slammed into the bed.

  Several pairs of feet scuffed the floor behind Roi, and hands slid under his arms, grasping firmly afore he was manhandled off the mattress and into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He barely had enough strength to look up to see who held him. Arailt and Edan stared back, worry tightening the lines of their mouths and eyes.

  Avory moved to sit upon his heels afore Roi, his countenance giving away naught. “You bear the mark of the drakon upon you. Be the creature still within this room?”

  Afore Roi could reply, Freya entered with a basin of water and linens. Had the whole keep heard his pained cry? Dampening a cloth, she handed it to Avory afore leaving the room and firmly closing the door behind her. Avory patted the folded cloth along the cheek Roi had rested against the bed, the linen coming away darkened by blood. With gentle ministration, Avory tended to Roi as he awaited Roi’s reply.

  Avory’s visage tickled at Roi’s memory, and though he did not know where the familiarity came from, the very sight of Avory encouraged Roi to confide all he knew. Yet Roi was loath to reveal that the loong sat in plain sight upon Ewen’s skin. He had witnessed ere now how people panicked, striking someone down without a thought how to help them. Would Ewen’s kin do the same if they suspected Ewen’s actions were not wholly his own?

  The sounds of Ewen’s and Donn’s tussle became subdued. “What be the touch of a drakon? Explain.”

  Roi turned slightly at Ewen’s choked demand to see Donn had his thickly muscled arm around Ewen’s neck. Refusing to yield despite the firm hold, Ewen swatted Donn’s arm as if searching for a weakness in Donn’s grip.

  “Ewen, cease this nonsense forthwith,” Roi called, his words as strained and weary as he felt.

  When he turned back, Avory continued his ministrations with the damp cloth. “A mark be placed upon your back to show you have been claimed. I have only beheld such workings a few times, and that be far, far to the east where such creatures live together in clans. This bodes not well, for I can find no scent of other within the chamber. If it decides to steal you away, I fear we shan’t be able to follow.”

  What could he say? Roi wished to put their fears to rest, but was unwilling to place Ewen in harm’s way to do so. The skin of his back burned hot, reminiscent of when he received the scars upon his face. Yet Roi had no desire to know what shape the wound would take, for that was the least of his worries. What kept filling his mind, making it hard for him to follow Avory’s soft words, was the litany of plants and herbs the loong had given him, and a recipe to use them for.

  The loong had ridden Ewen’s skin for how many twelvemonths? Nay, worries of the loong hauling Roi off to sit upon its horde was not what left Roi afeard. Now more than afore, the thought of failing at his task affrighted Roi. Whether he confessed not to Ewen or his kin, the loong and Roi travelled the same road to the same destination.

  Ewen had explained that when Fordel had been ripped from his body, Cerridwen had laid claim to the body, giving it her mark. Roi firmly believed Fate brought them together, for did he not carry the goddess’s mark on his lower back? That first night, when Ewen had touched the crescent moon Roi borne, he sensed something ought to have happened, but naught had come of Ewen’s searing touch. Now Roi believed Bear had been magically bound to Ewen’s body, and he strongly believed that if Bear had been unbound, that first night would have played out much differently. Nay, they did not understand that the loong was not what they need fear, for it was not he who would steal Roi’s sense of self… snatch away Roi’s very being. He hoped what he suspected was not true, but Roi felt he had nothing to fear from the loong and everything to fear when he broke the
curse and freed Ewen’s mathan.

  Ewen moved around the bed to where Roi could behold him, Donn following closely as if to snatch Ewen away if he misbehaved again. Ewen had pulled on a pair of trouse and naught else. “No one be in the room when Bear woke me.”

  “The marks upon Roi say differently,” countered Avory, drawing a baleful glare from Ewen.

  When Ewen’s gaze left Avory and landed upon Roi, the anger fled his countenance. “What does it mean that he has been claimed by a drakon?”

  For a moment, Avory said naught, his lips pressed so hard together they became a thin line against his dark visage. “Roi be its mate.”

  Roi had a feeling that naught would make sense this day. He squeezed his eyes closed, thankful Arailt and Edan still held his arms lest he flop onto the bed in an ungainly heap. Ewen snarled and swore colourfully, barking orders to the guards Roi had not known were outside the chamber’s door. Ewen demanded the castle be searched but drew silent when he was asked what the creature looked like. Roi did not have to open his eyes to know they all stared expectantly at him, waiting for an answer he refused to give.

  “Roi?” The question in Ewen’s voice was unmistakeable: was he choosing the loong over Ewen? Yet Roi could not give up the loong and shield Ewen at the same time.

  Donn stepped into the void Roi’s silence caused. “Roi could not have seen who assailed him. He lay upon his stomach, his face pressed into the mattress. He must have been that way for some time, for the blood he spilled from his nose and ears be not smudged.”

  The relief in Ewen’s voice be clear. “Aye. When I woke, he lay with his head turned towards me. He mayn’t have beheld who came and went by the door.”

  “Shall the drakon come back?” Donn asked.

  Guilt assailing him for allowing them to believe such a falsehood, Roi reluctantly opened his eyes and glanced at Ewen and Donn. By their countenance, they both believed he knew not the visage of their drakon, but when he looked back to Avory, it was clear Avory had not been fooled by his silence.