“Yesss,” I hissed and opened my wings. Like my forty-foot size, my wings were and the largest part of me and. He pushed the rabbit through the bars and I tore it apart, enjoying the taste of flesh but alas, no blood. There wasn’t a scrap of hide nor hair left when I was done.
“Water?”
“Wine, if you have it,” I said and he brought me a wineskin. I stared at him until he poured me a tankard, which I emptied swiftly. I was parched and didn’t stop until the skin was emptied.
“Your name?”
“Raven,” I burped and slowly closed my eyes, settled back on my haunches and rested my forearms on my belly. I felt mellow.
“Named for the Prince?”
“I am the Prince.” My statement brought utter silence.
They packed up after that, caught me up, rebound me and carried me inside his cloak on his chest. The warmth of his body and the motion of his horse lulled me to sleep with dreams that haunted me yet did not let me escape them into wakefulness. They rode hard and long as if they expected others to follow them. I heard and saw nothing from inside his cloak. He smelled of sweat and horse but also, something else. An elusive whisper of a sharp tang that seemed familiar. I spent hours trying to unlock its puzzle.
Days passed. We rode. We stopped. He fed, watered and toileted me. I spent hours in the cage at night and confined in woolen folds during the day. I spoke little and merely existed. They met no others nor did they ride the main roads, preferring to travel the forest paths now made safe by King Random’s patrols.
Finally, we emerged onto a broad lane bordered on both sides by a serpentine fence made of locust poles and exes. Knee-high grass grew beyond until the meadow reached the tree line again. Cow like creatures grazed within and when they saw us, they lifted their horned heads and lowed. Bells around their necks rang out a rough melody.
Dust on the lane stirred under their horses’ hooves. I stretched my neck out from under his cape and stared. The sky here was a deep, even lime green and the trees had a strange orange tint almost as if the leaves were already changing yet I saw not one hint of green anywhere on any tree. The grass wasn’t green, either but a deep maroon and the sky made my entire captors look faintly greenish and ill.
“Where are we?” I asked dully.
“Borderlands between Amber and Khafra,” Dieterhof stated.
“How?”
“Our employer gave us a bit of magic to aid us,” he answered briefly.
“Who? Who aided you?”
His eyes watched me carefully. “The King. King Luke.” I was silent digesting why my father’s friend would want to kidnap me. I had no answer that left me with anything other than unease.
Chapter 8
Next, we were aboard a ship sailing up the coastline on a three masted schooner. They had boarded the horses in the hold and paid for two cabins as they carried me inside a smaller birdcage just large enough for me to squat but not lie down. It was kept covered constantly as long as we were around people and for the most part, I hadn’t seen daylight in days. He was careful about feeding and watering me. Every three days, he repeated the yellow powder forcing it down my throat with a bolus even though I didn’t fight it.
The cabin was small, barely big enough for one man and it held a bunk, a metal stove to produce heat and boil a kettle. There was a chamber pot, a small porthole he kept locked and covered with a rag. In the door was a bloody big iron key. His cabin connected with the other man’s and the rest of his crew slept in the hold or on deck.
He let me out once he locked us in and I wobbled on all fours as I felt the rocking motion of the deck. “Where are we going?” I asked and my voice came out like the squeak of a catbird. I cleared my throat and felt very odd. Almost insubstantial. I felt lighter, too. He frowned and poked me in the ribs, it hurt. He scooped up several pieces of black lint.
“You’re shedding scales and you’re thinner. Do you need to eat more? Are you hungry?” My appetite was gone. I hung my head between my legs and let my wings drag on the floor. “What ails you, Raven?” He seemed concerned and he called the other man in. I learned his name was Owfan but that Dieterhof was the leader.
“I’m too far from the Unicorn,” I answered.
“And?”
“The spell that animates me is weakening. Soon, I’ll be no more,” I answered understanding that I had traveled far from my safety zone and Amber. I worried suddenly about Roelle and Marcus, if they had made it home or more frightening – that they would try to find me.
“You’ll die?” Owfan asked sharply.
“I’m not really alive,” I returned sadly. “This body is only a magic spell.”
“Who are you then? What are you?”
I hesitated and knew that I should lie. Was amazed that I could even contemplate such an action. “My name is Raven. I am what is left of the Prince of Chaos.”
“You died. Were buried, I attended your funeral and saw you lie in state. I saw the Black Dragon, too.” He paused astonished. “He, too, was blind in his right eye.” He turned to Dieterhof. “Could it be? We have the great Black Dragon of Amber in our hands? Tell me the truth; are you one and the same?”
“Yesss. But it will avail you nothing if I cease to exist.”
“We can’t take you back to Amber,” he shook his head. “Mayhap, one of the King’s Witches could heal you. His mother is a learned witch and can transform things. Can you turn yourself back into your larger self?” At my nod, he asked puzzled, “why haven’t you, then?”
“Because you didn’t tell me to.”
“Can you fly? Carry the two of us? To Khafra?”
“I’m not sure,” I said uneasily.
He scooped me up, kicked open the door and carried me up to the foredeck to the utter astonishment of the crew who stopped what they were doing to watch us. He laid me on the deck and stepped back. “Do it,” he said but tethered me by the neck with a leather thong.
“When I change, that will either break or strangle me,” I said lifting my head to sniff the air. The wind snapped the sails and I wondered vaguely whether the ship was large enough to hold my weight. He cut the thong and freed me.
“Gigantum alternus!” I chanted and in seconds, I was back to my regular size. Scooting my head down, I shoved the two onto my back and leaped off into the skies to follow the coastline up. After their initial terror, the two relaxed enough to enjoy themselves. I enjoyed the flying and being back in my own body but I sensed a physical weakness that had not been there before. My Dragon wings made short work of the distance that the ship traveled in the same time. Shadows followed me, the long shape of my wings and body proclaiming that ‘here be dragons’.
After a few hours, they actually fell asleep and I dropped lower to nearly skim the surface of the water. I could see dolphins following me, leaping out of the water to flirt with me. I dipped my head and neck into the water and trolled for fish catching schools of them and filling my guts.
The sun was a blazing orb under the greenish sky when I saw the beginnings of the city spread out along the three sides of the harbor. Beautiful, full of spires and as fancy as a Disneyland Park, it was aglow in the setting sun.
The Castle was impressive and built along the lines of the Minoan Palace at Knossos. Dieterhof set me down in a courtyard and all hell broke loose. Guards appeared from everywhere armed to the teeth. The horses in the stable yard panicked and tried to climb out of their stalls, over their grooms and kicked everything to pieces. I folded my wings up as both my riders dismounted and attempted to calm the wild-eyed soldiers. Finally, I shouted them down and curled up, my muscles trembling from sudden exhaustion. I fell over, just missing a cart loaded with hay and a startled boy with blond hair.
“Raven?” Dieterhof asked tentatively. “Raven, can you hear me?”
My eye tracked a tall image coming towards me dressed in blue jeans, of all things. I watched him dully as he came closer, ringed by armed men.
“The Black Dragon of Amber,�
� he spoke in a tone of voice that told me he had spent time in California. “Is he dead?”
“Luke,” I managed and he sat back surprised. “My dad…Merlin…Says hi.”
“What?” He prompted but as the sun died below the horizon, I went with it.
*****
I was vaguely aware of something moving me. A hoist of some kind lifting me up and onto a flat surface that rolled. The smell of sand and sage, softness under me that was heated. The smell of blood and meat, fresh water and magic hovered in the air. I slept uneasily with images racing across my mind’s eye and under my eyelids. It made my heart pound in sudden fear until I bolted upright and awoke just as the sun rose from behind a black wall.
I looked around. I was inside an amphitheater, lying on heated sand. Near me were the carcasses of a cow, several deer as well as hogs. A huge metal tank of fresh water and a hogshead of some kind of liquor lay next to that. I wished I was hungry but the thought of eating did not tempt me.
A woman stood near the entrance to this arena dressed in a scarlet robe. She was pretty but older with masses of auburn hair and deep colored eyes. I knew instinctively that she was the king’s mother–Jasra. A witch and a powerful one.
“Your power wanes the further and longer you remain away from Amber,” she said and I found myself agreeing. “So, it is true. You do speak. Tell me, son of Amber, why have you come here?” She came close enough to touch me, skirting the carcasses.
“I came because those two told me to.”
“That is not all the story,” she hissed and laid her hand on my horns, pulling my head down to stare into my eyes. Her touch was ice cold. “Your father turned me into a coatrack and I never forgave him for that,” she returned. “Would you like to suffer the same fate?”
“Mother!” Luke’s voice rang out over the sands and she let go. My head felt to the ground with a thump. I didn’t care if the two wanted to fight over me. Nothing seemed to matter to me anymore.
“He is not eating,” she observed. “And has lost much weight.”
“So I see. What’s wrong, Raven?” He seemed to be concerned over my welfare.
“The magic that keeps me alive and in this body is weak away from Amber,” I replied listlessly. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Me? I didn’t.” He turned to Jasra. “Mother? Did you order this?”
“If you control the Black Dragon, you control both Amber and the Courts and you control Merlin and Corwin.”
“I’m not at war with either Merlin or Random,” he said.
“No, but you hold an uneasy alliance with both and there are factions who want you off the throne. With him, you can keep your seat secure.”
“And how do you propose to force a Dragon to obey me? Especially how do you plan on keeping him alive?”
“There are magic spells that I can try,” she shrugged. “As for his compliance, I gave Dieterhof the yellow pollen of the Atarax tree. As long as he breathes it every three days, his will is subservient to ours.”
“They fed it to me,” I said dully. “Forced it down my throat.”
She sucked in her breath. “You ate it?” Her eyes were round. “Those idiots!” Without another word, she threw her cape over her head and disappeared in it swirls.
“Raven?” I opened my eyes. “How is Merlin?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in several weeks. Maybe months. I’m not sure how much time has gone by since the wedding.”
“Wedding?” He sat on my hind leg and ran his hands on the scales. They were dulled and dusty. He studied my talons and the tail where once had been a deadly barb but some soldier of Amber had hacked it off with a broadsword.
“The wedding of Captain Rouen to Lynette of the Golden Treaty alliance. Berengen, I think.”
“I sent gifts,” he mused.
“Something spectacular, I believe,” I returned. “Would you go away, I’m tired.” I closed my eyes again but he persisted.
“How did you survive, Raven? I know you were buried and laid to rest in Corwin’s Cenotaph. I sent flowers and condolences.”
“I died,” I said flatly. “My body had been terribly used and abused. It could not survive. Nor could the Dragon form that Jurt gave me. The Unicorn gave me this form created out of the magic of Amber and the Pattern but it only exists close to her magic. Sort of like a battery running out of juice and the recharging station is too far away.”
“My mother will think of something. If we save your life, will you help me?”
“What do you want?” I sighed. He told me and really, I had no choice but to do as he asked.
Part II-Chapter 9
Marcus and Roelle met on the dance floor, pirouetted and clasped hands. Both were out of breath, sweaty and aglow with exertion and the joy of the occasion. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her. She flushed. “Marcus,” she started and then ducked. “Have you seen Raven?”
“No, not for the last few hours. You haven’t seen him either?”
Now, both of them stopped moving causing a logjam in the flow of bodies on the floor. They decided unanimously to go in search of him. Several pairs of eyes watched them disappear, her parents and Sergeant Pire as well as the Captain. Marcus went first to the stables where he knew the mice pickings were plentiful. Asked the grooms if they had seen him and was told he’d been spotted heading towards the forest.
Roelle joined him, her skirts held high and in a pair of pattens from the barn. “No one’s seen him,” she gasped and both grabbed a lantern while Marcus conjured a whych light.
“Here, you two,” the Sergeant’s voice stopped them in their tracks. Captain Lambrecht joined the growing crowd.
“Roelle?” he asked his sister. He’d thrown a cape over his wedding suit.
“Captain,” Pire greeted.
“Sergeant. Marcus. What’s going on?”
“We can’t find Raven,” she cried.
“Raven? Oh, the little dragonet.”
“No, Lambrecht, Prince Raven. The Black Dragon. He’s really the Black Dragon and he’s missing,” she returned frantic.
“Roelle, if that’s true, what could hurt him? He’s a huge…Dragon.” He tried to reassure her.
“He’s not powerful as when he’s bigger, Lamb, he’s just a little thing. Big enough to kill a rabbit but nothing greater!”
She ran into the woods calling for him every few yards. Soon, they followed calling out for the dragon, ranging further away from each other with only Marcus worried about losing his way. He edged closer to the Captain figuring that he knew his way through the forests.
Gradually, they all converged on a clearing deep in the woods and near a hidden pathway that the Captain explained was an old smugglers trail. In the clearing, they found evidence of a bait trail and signs of a scuffle.
Marcus made the lights glow brighter until the Sergeant could read the spoor.
“Something was tied down here. Rabbit fur. Some blood. Something else struggled; there are gouge marks in the earth. Pieces of netting. Men’s boot heels and horse hooves. Six men and six horses.” He tracked them down the lane, his jaw gritting tightly. “Tell me without lying, Marcus. What were you, the girl and the Prince up to?”
“Nothing,” he started and Pire reached out, grabbed him by the throat and lifted his body off the ground.
“Will you stand there when I tell King Random, Prince Corwin and King Merlin that you did nothing to cause the Prince to be taken?”
Marcus’ face whitened and his Adam’s apple bobbed in terror. Roelle put her hand on Pire’s corded forearm. “We were going to sneak into Khafra to find a special treatise that hinted we could get Raven his body back,” she said and there was a pregnant pause.
“The boy’s been rather gloomy lately,” Pire mused. “That’s one of the reasons Rinlon asked me to keep an eye on him. Captain, have you a way to speak to the Castle swiftly?”
“I can send a hawk with a spell,” Marcus offered. “Or–” he hesitated. “I
have Merlin’s Trumps.” They gaped at him. Even Roelle. “I’m not sure if I can use them, though. I think their magic applies only to those of the Blood of Amber.”
“It’s worth a try,” the sergeant said. “Who will you contact?”
“The Prince. He’ll be more coolheaded,” Marcus decided.
“You mean he’ll think twice before he runs you through,” Roelle snapped. “Call him, then.”
“Here? Now?” Marcus asked and at their nods, he reluctantly pulled out a thin wallet from inside his fine shirt and opened the leather pouch to reveal the beautifully drawn, exquisitely painted deck of Trumps. Corwin stared up at them smiling enigmatically, in black and silver, his silver rose at his throat and his hand on the hilt of Grayswandir. The cards were cold, icy to the touch and burned. Marcus swallowed and endured it for the sake of his friend. To their surprise, the drawn figure moved and astonishment clouded Corwin’s features.
“Marcus?” His mouth moved and he reached out a hand. “Pull me through.” Marcus reached, grasped the warm living hand of Raven’s grandsire and he was abruptly standing in front of them. “Speak,” he said to Pire but his eyes stayed on Marcus and Roelle. All of them started at once and Corwin held up his hand. “Sergeant Pire,” he prompted and the look in his eye was deadly.
The Sergeant cleared his throat nervously. “My Lord Prince, we were only aware of the dragon’s presence three days into the trip. I saw a small beast, no larger than a King’s falcon, black and Dragon featured. These two thought they kept it hidden but I saw no harm in allowing them to think so. It was obviously too small to be the Prince.”
“Marcus?” Corwin asked.
“I found a treatise that hinted at a cure for Raven’s problem. I told him. Roelle told Raven we wanted to search and we needed his help. He agreed. I used a minimax spell to make him small. He liked to use it so he could hide from Murphy and the guards,” he said defiantly. “He can’t ever get away and be alone.”
“He broods too much when he’s alone, Marcus. We do what we do because we want to help him,” Corwin said.
“Then help him. He wants to have a mortal body, he wants be able to hold a girl. Kiss her. He wants to be human again!” Marcus shouted, nearly crying. “It’s my fault this all happened to him! If I hadn’t pulled him with me to the tavern–”
Black Dragon of Amber Book Two: The Road to Amber Page 5
