by N M Zoltack
What was there for Bjorn to do but to whisk Olympia off to safety?
The shadows of the dragons vanished from above, and Bjorn rushed over to where he had abandoned Olympia. He shouldn’t have left her at all. The risk of his being seen was too high, and if he were recognized… He wasn’t to ever come this close to the castle again. At one point, he had tried to woo Queen Rosalynne, but then he had been overly ambitious in his attempt to appease her, and in his zealous endeavors, he had executed a man for stealing. Her father, the king, wouldn’t have blinked an eye at that, but then her father had executed a great many persons. It seemed evident that the then-princess Rosalynne had only stood by to watch her father’s ordered executions because he himself would not come to grace the scene. She herself had not approved.
Now, though, his allegiance had shifted. While he thought he knew and understood Rosalynne Rivera somewhat well, he most certainly knew a great deal about Olympia Li. Both ladies were stunningly beautiful in their own rights, but there was something about Olympia that made Bjorn want to follow her. She had a quiet strength and a firm grasp of politics despite her living in seclusion and hiding away for the majority of her life. He had no reason to doubt she was who she claimed to be.
The true ruler of Tenoch Proper was not here, having walked off slightly, her gaze skyward. Was that awe and wonderment in her eyes? Yes, the dragons were flying away, but any sane person would be filled with fear at the sight of those monstrosities.
“We must go,” he whispered in her ear.
She turned to him, moving so quickly her long, straight raven-colored hair struck his shoulder. Her dark eyes were wide, and she wrinkled her elegant small nose. “I suppose,” she said slowly, as if she didn’t truly concur with the words she was saying.
When she made no move to start walking, he gripped her elbow and escorted her away. It wasn’t until they had concealed themselves in a forest closer to the Vast Waters that he slowed their frantic pace.
“What do you know of the dragons?” she asked. Despite the shadows cast from the towering trees, he could not help but notice the gleam in her eyes. She was almost breathless, not from their flight but from wonder.
“I… I’m not sure I would’ve believed if I had not seen them with my own eyes,” he admitted.
“But you knew about the dragons of old.”
“Well, I heard the stories. Everyone did.”
“So you didn’t believe in them?” she pressed.
He hesitated.
“You saw the wraith,” she added. “We both did.”
“I remember,” he grumbled. “What is going on with the world? First, the wraiths return and now the dragons… And they’re going to force us to go to war against them, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Olympia said.
“You think we shouldn’t fight them but accept whatever fate they would have for us, don’t you?” he asked bitterly.
“Dong Han, my family’s most loyal servant—”
“Is he the one who spirited you away from the castle?” Bjorn asked.
“Yes. Now stop interrupting. It’s rude.” But her grin highlighted her high cheekbones. “He would tell me stories about the dragons and about their wraiths. You and I have nothing to fear! That wraith ignored us. They only plague those who are terrible, those who must change or else will be slaughtered by the dragons for their crimes. We are not who the dragons are after.”
“You mean to tell me all those on that battlefield deserve to die. You’re absolutely certain of that?”
“The Lis are an old family,” Olympia murmured. “Some of my ancestors had been members of an ancient sect called Keepers of the Flames. They served the dragons. They—”
“Why does it not surprise me in the slightest that your family would have ties to the dragons?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed, and some of her happiness diminished. “Just what is it that you mean to suggest? Do you mean to say that my family found favor with the dragons and that is why we wound up on the throne? You do realize that the Lis did not have the crown until 1,200 years after the death of the dragons three? The dragons only returned now, exactly three hundred years after we first gained that crown!"
“Yes, and the Lis served a long while. How long?”
“Two hundred and eighty-one years,” she breathed. “We would still hold the crown had it not been for that usurper—”
“Olympia…”
“What is it you wish to ask of me?” she asked, her tone a bit frosty now.
“I… That is…”
"If you are wondering if I had anything to do with the dragons returning, I assure you I do not. I haven't been rid of you as my shadow in how long now? Even when I've tried to quit you, you will not allow it." She stared off to the side as if she could not bear to look at him a moment longer.
“It is only that this could be very convenient for you,” Bjorn said slowly.
She stared at him wordlessly.
“If the dragons go after the queens… If you could get the dragons to come to heel…”
“You do not honestly think that the dragons will heed to the king or queen, do you?” she spat out. “Are you that ignorant? The king and queen are meant to try to keep the peace, to guide the people with a kind ruling hand. That is—”
“Far too optimistic,” Bjorn said. “There are rulers aside from whoever sits on the throne, and not all of them are good and kind. The dragons act as if there is nothing at all between right and wrong, but…”
He glanced away, working his jaw, breathing heavily, thinking of the man he had killed who stole only because his family had been starving.
“Not all crimes are committed because the person is a criminal,” he finally said.
Olympia crossed over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know you are thinking about that man and his family,” she said softly.
He winced, and it took everything in him to not stalk away from her. Confessing that sin to her had not been easy.
In truth, however, that was not the only sin he had ever committed. The wraith should have realized that some acts Bjorn had committed could not be forgiven.
Try as he might, Bjorn could not change the past, and he wasn’t worthy of much of anything. The flames of a dragon might yet be in store for him.
10
Sir Edmund Hill
The dragons had returned! Sir Edmund Hill didn’t know if he could handle such knowledge, but he also didn’t have the luxury of doing anything save for what he had been told to do by order of the princess.
She wished for a horse, and he would track one down for her if he were able.
That request was not going to be an easy one to fulfill. With the arrival of the dragons, most of the horses had thrown their riders and fled far from the battlefield, and the knight couldn’t blame them. The fiery blazes bursting from the dragons’ mouths were almost enough to burn a person alive.
Oh. Yes, that was indeed the case as a wide-eyed Edmund watched that happen right before him.
The knight skirted away from the burning man and helped a few others to their feet, not paying attention to which continent they hailed. Horses, where was a horse?
And then, as if the Fates smiled down on him, Edmund noticed not one but three horses. Another knight spied them as well, but Edmund managed to fight him off and secured two of them. At first, the knight started to walk the two of them toward the waiting princess, thought better of it, and climbed onto the back of one. At least now he could ensure the princess would have a mount even if the other should be taken away from him.
Thankfully, the other warriors from both Tenoch and Vincana were too preoccupied with avoiding the fires. The dragons seemed to have all flown away, and then he realized which direction one had flown in.
Toward the castle.
Panic and desperation seized Edmund. His first instinct was to ride off straight away to the castle, but then he spied Simba. The bald knight sti
ll did not wear a helm even though there were plenty enough wounded knights that he could have covered and protected his head. His dark skin was coated in sweat wherever silver armor did not cover him.
“Simba.” Edmund urged the horses toward his fellow knight. “Simba!”
The knight eyed him, reaching for the riderless horse automatically.
“Bring that horse to the princess,” Edmund instructed, nodding to her.
“Where are you off to?” Simba asked.
“The castle.”
Edmund whirled his horse around and rode as hard and swiftly as he could. The horse churned past the miles quickly, seemingly as desperate to be away from the blazing battlefield as Edmund.
But the castle was a battlefield itself. As soon as he rode through the gates, Edmund had no time to ponder his next move. He jumped down from the horse and immediately started to place the children onto its back. He slapped on the horse's rump, and the horse neighed and took off for the stable. It wasn't until he considered their destination that he feared that a poor choice. The stable, after all, could easily catch on fire, but the number of blazes burning throughout this area was far too high. It was far too dangerous for youngsters to be about.
He secured many persons and brought them from behind a building to another one, edging closer to the castle, and once he saw that group through the castle door, he turned back and repeated this. On the third time, a hand reached out to grab his wrist.
Startled, he looked up to see none other than Queen Sabine. Her eyes looked more steel-blue than gray at the moment.
“Sir Edmund, I have need of you.”
“As you wish.” He hastily went to bow.
She waved away the gesture of respect. “Go and take however many knights you need, as you can find, and secure the perimeter.”
“At once,” he said automatically. “Ah, how exactly can we secure the perimeter from a dragon?”
But the queen was already motioning and waving for others to make their way into the castle, ignoring him. Clearly, in her mind, he knew what to do, and he was to do it.
Deciding to operate under the assumption that the guards who had remained behind at the castle during the battle must now be out in the courtyard rather than within the keep, Edmund rushed once more back into the madness. He urged the people to go to the keep as he sought out the guards. Avoiding the dragon, his flames, and the stones he knocked from buildings with his massive tails proved most difficult, and Edmund wasted an entire precious hour to gather the guards.
As one unit, they marched out to the perimeter. Each of them had javelins and spears, but even Edmund knew the weapons would do nothing against a threat such as this.
But then Edmund saw a force heading his way. Not soldiers from the battle. At least not soldiers from Tenoch.
Warriors from Vincana.
Not all of them, only about a score of them, but Edmund grinned at the nearest guard. They would secure the perimeter as well as they could from any foe who came their way.
11
Prince Marcellus Gallus
The prince helped the man to his feet and glanced around. Horatia had moved on to help others, finally accepting that he would not abandon their people. His gaze shifted to the princess, and he started to hurry away from her, but once he overheard her telling the knight to go fetch a horse, he hesitated. Maybe Marcellus wasn’t being the smartest right now, but with the chaos going on all around them, her being by herself right now meant someone could come up to her backside and end her as that Valkyrie had tried earlier.
It shouldn't faze him at all, the thought of her dying on the battlefield, only this was more a place of slaughter than a place where a warrior could die with honor.
Honor, yes, that was what brought him back to her side.
Although Vivian did not look over at him, she remarked, “Why are you here, Marcellus? Do you want to kiss my blade?”
“You’re going to flee.”
"You should if you know what's good for you."
Her dark blue eyes narrowed as she scowled at him, but her next words surprised him. “If you think there is a way for us all to survive, you would be right.”
“How—”
“We need to put aside our differences,” she said in a rush.
“It’s much too late for that,” he said flatly, trying to damp down the surge of grief rising within him.
Unbidden, Rufus Vitus sprung to mind. The son of Ricardus Vitus, Rufus had been Marcellus’s best friend. The two had come here with others from Vincana as a result of an invitation from Atlan Castle. Already, the Vincanans had prepared for war, even before Rufus had been murdered.
While dancing with Queen Rosalynne.
Marcellus’s fingers curled into a tight fist, and his anger had him clenching his teeth so hard pain radiated to his ear.
“If we cannot locate middle ground, if there cannot be peace, then…” Vivian inhaled deeply. “What if Vincana could be its own country once more? The islands would still need assistance. None of them are entirely capable of growing enough food for their people, but we could even split them up, I suppose, even though they’re all so very far away from Vincana, but there—”
“No.”
“No?” Her eyes widen, and she shook her head. “Your father,” she spat out. “You know he won’t listen to reason. He’s the mastermind, isn’t he? He’s the one who wanted war, and he doesn’t merely want Vincana to be separate from Tenoch Proper. He wants to not just be king of Vincana. He wants Vincana Proper! He wants to be the king of all of Dragoona!”
Marcellus said nothing.
“And you… Is that what you want? To be the king eventually? Of everything? You know, at one time, I wanted to be queen. I was jealous of my sister. I hated that I was born last. I… I hated that I was born at all.” She dropped her gaze to the ground for only a moment as she cleared her throat. Then, she glared at him as if everything was his fault, as if the world around them wasn’t burning on a thousand flames. “I’m not a ruler. I’ve learned what I am. I’m a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. I will outlive you and any other threat to Tenoch because that is exactly what you are. I offer you peace—”
“You said so yourself. You are not a ruler. You’re merely a warrior, and as such, your word of peace is no good to me.”
“Your father won’t recognize it, I understand, but you—”
“I barely know you, Vivian Rivera. Do you even know yourself? You spent how long masquerading as a young woman from Vincana? Do you mean to tell me you never once thought about how thrilled you would be to use our techniques against us? You wanted to kill me when we fought, didn’t you?”
"No," she said, her voice charged with far more emotion than a warrior should ever have. "I wanted to incapacitate you so you could be brought back—"
“You wanted me as a prisoner of war. I wouldn’t have survived. You must know that.”
“My sister—”
“I’ve heard about the prisoners, how they were forced to be given a drink, a potion of some kind. It killed them.”
“I…”
“Did not know about that, did you? Strange, isn’t it, that I know more about what goes on within your castle walls than you do. A pity. Seems to me that your sister realizes you aren’t a princess any longer.”
“You don’t know me, and you don’t know her. You told me before that I am not just Tenoch, but you are wrong. If you did know me, you would realize that our offering of peace is meant with the highest level of respect, yet you mock me.” Her eyes burned with the reflection of the flames all around them. “You won’t have peace, and so there won’t be peace for any of us. We will all burn, and it will be on your hands. How you sleep at night, I know not.”
She stalked off, hurrying to a bald knight who was heading her way with a horse.
Marcellus stood there, watching her. His gaze then met that of the knight’s. The knight hesitated, looking up at his princess, and Marcellus took the time to leave.
Even though his soul was restless and he longed for peace, Marcellus knew that the words of Vivian were not enough. Not even the words of both queens would be enough.
However, the existence of the dragons might make all of this moot. The Valkyries, every one of them born and bred in Vincana, had been the warriors of the dragons back when the dragons three ruled over all of Dragoona. Vincana always thought itself a bit safe where the dragons were concerned.
As Marcellus knelt beside one of the burnt Vincanan soldiers, he knew that was no longer the case. None were safe from the dragons and their might.
Even so, he knew exactly what would happen in the coming days. The warriors would turn their swords against the winged beasts, and they would clang against claws.
But how could a human dare to even try to fight a fire-breathing dragon?
12
Princess Vivian Rivera
The moment Vivian sat atop the horse, she hesitated, trying to discern where she might be able to do the most good. If she were to head to the castle, she would be one of how many? There would already be guards there, whereas one of the dragons had headed to the northwest, where only peasants lived.
That settled her course for her, and she spurred the horse onward at great speed. The horse was all too eager to flee, and she hadn’t even thanked the knight for bringing her the horse. He hadn’t been the one she’d asked for the horse originally. That had been… she knew his name. Ah, yes, Edmund Hill. The one who gave her the horse… Try as she might, she could not recall his name. It plagued her greatly that she knew more of the Vincanan soldiers by name versus her own knights and guards.
