by Mlyn Hurn
His laughter could be heard as he walked back down the hall. Marcus turned back and realized his hands were still clasping Syranna’s breasts and not just concealing them. He gave them two firm squeezes, just to prove he was in control before he released them. As he shifted back in the bed, moving to sit cross-legged, the two male dragonets clambered over Syranna’s legs toward him. It was obvious they felt that anyone in their mistress’ bed must be fair game.
“Ouch!”
Marcus complained as the little feet dug into his skin. He grabbed the covers as one of them appeared to be heading for a place he had no business being. Marcus piled the sheet into his lap, covering his groin and lower abdomen completely. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Syranna was smiling even as she lifted the littlest pet to her face.
“Did the mean man awaken you, sweet thing?” She rubbed her cheek against the tiny dragonet, which ate up every iota of attention she got.
Marcus growled softly, which startled AnnaBelle.
“Mmmrrraaaaawwwwww!”
“Can’t you at least clip their claws? Look at those scratch marks.”
Syranna shook her head. “They rarely scratch me, only when they are startled or frightened. Dragons are very sensitive creatures, you know. It is all part of their chemical makeup. A happy dragon rarely breathes fire, which can be quite important.”
“Look, sweetheart, I’m still having trouble believing these things are even real. I thought that was all myth, told to children.”
“Mystonia is believed to be the cradle of civilization for our three worlds. Here in the shadows and wetlands is where we came from.”
“That can’t be right, Syranna. We all know that space flight and therefore interplanetary travel began on Vikalla, then they traveled to Kallas and here to Kalledane last.”
Syranna lowered AnnaBelle to the bed and came to her feet beside it. “Perhaps there were always other methods, or means of travel, but people on Vikalla were unaware of it. They always believed they were the creators and the masters of their moon worlds.”
She walked away from him and Marcus watched the seductive movement of her ass. Damn! She was sexy even when she didn’t try to be. As he continued to observe her, she walked to a wooden cabinet and withdrew a shimmering piece of cloth. She draped it around her body, tying a knot to hold it between her breasts.
“Where are you going?” Marcus asked quickly, coming to his feet as well. He did not like the way she was so casually walking out on him without so much as a word.
“I’m going to bathe in the river. Come along, babies!”
Marcus stared in frustration at the disappearing parade out of her bedroom. All three of her little dragons had obviously understood what she wanted them to do, because they had immediately hopped, jumped and ran toward Syranna when she said, “come.”
* * * * *
Syranna was in the water, swimming and floating idly while she listened to the little dragons scampering and playing in the gently flowing river and along the sandy bank. She felt distinctly tender at the apex of her thighs. There was no way she could banish the memories of the passion she’d felt at Marcus’ clever hands and skillful fingers. It seemed that he knew every trick in the book to elicit her sexual responses. Thinking back, her naïveté embarrassed her somewhat. She had spent most of her life learning magic, and how to control and use her special powers.
In the beginning it had just been great fun being with her grandfather and discovering all the different things he could do. Fairly quickly she had begun to see what she could do, like the mind-bending or mental alteration, as her grandfather termed it. Her proficiency exceeded her grandfather’s which he was quite proud to see, but he still warned her against revealing her full strengths to just anyone. Many people on Kalledane and even Vikalla would fear her. While here in Mystonia, there would be factions who would want to use her and manipulate her. That was what she must watch out for at all times.
She had barely constrained herself from telling Marcus about the ancient way of travel. Teleportation, which didn’t involve machinery, would be suspect by any culture. She had chosen to travel via the transportation stations to avoid attracting attention by suddenly popping in somewhere, and bringing her horse allowed her to travel alone to the castle. Learning the nearest station was a two hours’ ride away from the palace had surprised her, though. Knowing she had the power to pop in and out might not be the right kind of knowledge to reveal to Marcus until she knew him better.
Abruptly she sank beneath the water and came up sputtering. Get to know him better! She had no intention of getting to know Lord Marcus at all! He needed to leave here and never come back. That’s why she had tried to hold back as he swamped her with sensuality and made her know what it meant to truly be with a man, on the most elemental of levels. Except the last time, on the pillows. Hopefully there had been too much time lapse between…but his giving her those orgasms had taken her control away completely. It might have been possible for her egg to meet his sperm.
“No!” She spoke vehemently and loudly. She was determined to keep things the way they were. Her life was here, and Marcus’ was on Vikalla. And that was how it must stay.
“No, what?”
Syranna jerked around in the water, startling the dragons on the far edge. She heard their frantic little cries as she argued in her head over maintaining her primness and concealing her nudity, or rushing to settle the little pets.
“Darmand!”
“Yes, indeed, beautiful lady. It is I!”
Syranna tried to move farther away from the bank her intruder was upon. “I don’t imagine it will do me any good to tell you that you are trespassing.”
“None whatsoever, Syranna. Rumor has it that you have a visitor.”
Syranna watched as the raven-haired, black-eyed wizard sat on a large boulder, not far from where she was in the water. He was the one in line for Grand Vizier, or wizard, of Mystonia. This was not a recognized title anywhere else, but that did not matter. To be Grand Vizier gave you access to the most ancient of the protected texts stored at the central archive. The witch, warlock or wizard who sought the position, despite lineage, still had to prove his or her worthiness.
“So you’ve come begging for an invitation to dinner.”
Darmand threw his head back and laughed quite heartily, as if she were truly amusing. Syranna noted that his black beard was trimmed quite short, and close to his skin. One of Darmand’s downfalls was his attractiveness. Women clustered around him, seeking his attentions. As he’d matured, he’d developed a strong and muscular body, which only aided and abetted his success with women.
She had watched him as he grew used to the female attention, perhaps even to expect it as he got older. But he’d never received any such attention or interest from Syranna. Even though there was only a few years’ difference in their ages, and Darmand’s father had often brought him to the castle when he came to visit her grandfather, she had never drooled over him like most of the girls and then, later, all ages of women.
As children, she’d always felt like Darmand watched her, waiting. It was as if he believed she knew something that was his by birthright, and he would be getting it out of her one day. Since the death of his father, he had not visited nearly as often. Then, after her grandfather passed away, he had started showing up at the most unexpected of times—like now!
Shivering, she swam back another few feet. AnnaBelle was on the bank, bawling for her attention. The problem was that in between her cries she was spouting a two-foot length flame.
“Hush, AnnaBelle, I’m coming.”
Darmand laughed. “Don’t let me stop you, Syranna. It’s been a few years since we last went skinny-dipping, but I won’t mind your break in propriety.”
Syranna glared at Darmand. “There is no breach. You are not vizier yet.” She turned and began swimming toward the far shore. “Come here, AnnaBelle. Swim to mommy!”
She encouraged the smallest dragon into the wate
r. She would drink and that would calm down the flames once again. AnnaBelle took a few steps toward the water, which attracted her calmer brothers’ attention.
“Syranna! Syranna! Where the hell are you, woman?”
Syranna heard Marcus’ bellow seconds before he stumbled onto the same bank the dragons were on. All three dragons took flight at once, either frightened or startled. Chaos reigned supreme in the midst of beating dragon wings, human shrieks and three-foot long flames spewing out in three different directions.
“What the hell!”
Marcus ducked just in time to prevent losing his hair, but in his crouched position he saw Syranna was still swimming, and across the small pond was a man who was watching her.
“Stay down, Marcus! They’ll settle down, just give me a moment to call them,” Syranna called out. She immediately made the soft trilling noise, which she used to call them to her. Very quickly, all three dragons were swimming toward her like they were baby ducks returning to their chiding mama. AnnaBelle moved the closest to her, needing more reassurance than her male siblings.
Syranna reached out and stroked her fingers against the green, shiny skin. It was funny, she thought, the flesh of the dragonets never felt like she expected it to. Before she could introduce the two men, if that was what she had intended, Marcus came to his feet.
“How dare you intrude on this lady’s bath, sir?”
Syranna watched with trepidation as Marcus’ hand moved toward his weapon. Before she could explain, Darmand had come to his feet.
“I am an old friend of Princess Syranna. I’ve known her since we were both children and many times did we swim naked in these waters. In fact, I was just contemplating joining her.”
“You will not be joining her, sir. I am Lord Marcus, liege lord of Vikalla. Lady Syranna is my future wife. All that remains is for the papers to be signed and we will be legally wed!”
“Ooh!” Syranna said under her breath in frustration. As far as she was concerned, nothing had progressed that far. Sure, he had expressed his views, but that certainly didn’t equal a “done deal.” This bold lord overstepped his boundaries once again. Granted, he deserved to be king, but that didn’t automatically assure that she was going to be his queen!
The dragons perceived her stress and began mewling and cawing and making different levels of threatening sounds. Looking from one man to the other, she spoke quickly. “Will you please look away and I’ll get out?”
Darmand shrugged. “I’ve seen it all before.”
“Stop it! Both of you just look away!”
Hurriedly, she rushed from the water and grabbed her sarong-style wrap. Quickly she covered her body and tied it securely. “Did you come for dinner, Darmand?”
Darmand grinned and nodded his head.
“Very well,” Syranna told him brusquely. “But I don’t want to hear a single complaint. Paadyum doesn’t need to be further upset. She’s been cooking at the castle for more years than she remembers anymore, and life is hell when her nose is out of joint.”
“How a nose can be in or out is beyond me, but I promise that I shall be on my best behavior, as always.”
Always, my ass, Syranna thought as she started up the bank, ignoring Marcus’ outstretched hand to help her. She did look at him for a moment. “What took you so long to get here?”
“W-what? You were waiting for me? I couldn’t find anybody to tell me how to get here,” Marcus said.
“Hmpffh!” Syranna said in disgust as she walked past him, grabbing the harnesses off the ground as she went. Abruptly she stopped, knowing that she needed to put them back on before they went much farther. Looking back, she saw that her little brood was following dutifully, and with little delay she got each one reattached.
“All right. Let’s go back.” She turned without waiting to see if she was being followed, and began the half-mile trek back to the castle.
Chapter Nine
William was sitting at the table with a complaining Uther when they returned. Marcus had dropped back and followed the other man. Syranna guessed it was because he didn’t trust him, even though he didn’t know him. Upon entering the main room, Syranna held up her hands.
“No one follows me, and I mean no one!”
She turned and walked out and for a moment, silence continued in the room. Uther spoke first.
“Welcome, Sir Darmand. Have you come to join us for dinner?”
Darmand crossed the room and took the chair to the left of the old man. He draped his expensive-looking cloak over the chair back and then sat down. “Yes, against my better judgment and my indigestion. Do you have the same cook?”
Uther nodded, ringing a bell beside him. Moerana rushed into the room, looking quite surprised at all the men there. She curtsied to Uther. “Yes, sir?”
“We’ll be five for supper tonight. Please let the cook know she’ll have to do her best for Sir Darmand.”
Moerana flushed a bright red and ran out of the room.
William took two large flagons from a tray and poured wine into each. Leaning across the table he offered one to the stranger and set the other one down for Marcus. Marcus came closer and took his, drinking deeply. Perhaps it was his imagination, but prolonged contact with Syranna could lead him to a drinking problem if he wasn’t careful!
Marcus glared at the casual way Darmand was making himself at home. William refilled his cup and spoke softly. “I am Sir William, in service to Lord Marcus. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
Darmand rose slightly and bowed his head briefly in response. “I am Sir Darmand. I have the castle just down the road, you might say. I guess that makes Syranna and me neighbors. She is always popping down to borrow something.”
Marcus bristled at the man’s words. Maybe this Darmand character had known Syranna longer, but he sure as hell didn’t know her better than he did! That much was sure, and if need be, he would point that out. Frustrated, he pulled a chair out and then sat down. It only took a moment before he felt the movement. Looking down, both dragonets were crawling up his legs. Not completely sure why, he sat perfectly still until one was seated on his lap, and the other had hopped up to rest on his forearm.
Uther chuckled at the other end of the table. “Looks like the bloody little demons have taken to you, Lord Marcus. Better you than me, I say.” He paused and refilled his glass. Marcus wondered if the old guy did anything around here but complain all the time and drink. Oh, and eat. Obviously food was very important to him if the previously shared meal was any indication.
“She sleeps with the little grubbers, you know!” Uther added a moment later, in between swallows.
“You know, Uther, since you seem to dislike it here so much, I am surprised that you choose to stay,” Marcus said quietly, watching as the old man sputtered for a few moments.
“I…uhm…I like it here just fine. And Mistress Syranna needs my help.”
Darmand set his cup on the table. “If Syranna would move in with me, we could demolish this old eyesore. She’d be much happier in my newer and more modern castle. Not everyone in Mystonia turns their noses up at living with modern conveniences.”
William laughed. “I certainly see no reason to forego my creature comforts.”
“If all of you hate it here so bad, then please, don’t let me delay your departure from here one second longer!”
Syranna had reentered the room without anyone hearing her. As she crossed to the table, Marcus turned to watch her. She was dressed as she had when he had first arrived, in clothing more suitable to a serving girl than a princess. There was an empty chair beside Darmand and another at the far end of the table. But there was a good six feet between the empty chair on the side and the foot of the table. For a moment Marcus could easily imagine that Syranna might want distance between herself and old Uther. Constant exposure to him would grate.
“Uther? Did you speak to Paadyum?”
“I had Moerana tell her.”
Syranna got to her feet immed
iately. “Uther, you know she likes to learn these things from one of us. Excuse me, gentlemen, while I go and try to rescue our meal.”
Silence followed her departure and Marcus, William and Darmand all turned to glare at Uther. In a place like this, food was about the only thing they really had to look forward to! Hearing it might not be forthcoming was not good news.
Uther, though, seemed unconcerned. Instead he refilled his glass and looked at Darmand. “Did you come to see how the competition is doing?”
Darmand’s eyes narrowed as he studied the gray-haired man. “I was unaware of any competition anywhere.”
“I’ve been telling Syranna she should challenge you for the Grand Vizier.”
Darmand shook his head. “Now why would she want to do that? Surely she has plans for her personal future. A female Vizier never weds, remember.”
“And a male Vizier does? Isn’t that rather archaic?” Marcus interrupted.
“The theory has never been tested, but the ancient documents state that once a woman passes through childbirth, her powers are lost. So, naturally, any woman who did manage to become Vizier would not tempt fate.”
“What is the Grand Vizier anyway? Do not all on Kalledane follow their liege lord or the king once he is crowned?” William asked, leaning forward in his chair.
Darmand waved his hand casually. “Of course, the law is maintained. The Grand Vizier is not an inherited title, but earned. A new, young wizard can come forward and force an old Vizier out.”
“What is so all-fired important about being Grand Vizier?” William asked.
“I guess it is all a matter of opinion. On Vikalla, Kallas and even Kalledane, just beyond our borders, it means nothing and yet here…” Darmand shrugged.
“In Mystonia it means everything, doesn’t it, Darmand?” Syranna asked softly, surprising them all by her presence once again. She walked down to the far end of the table and sat down. A few seconds later, Moerana came out carrying a tray. She set it by Syranna and then scuttled back to the kitchen.
“Your supper should be ready shortly, gentlemen,” Syranna told her guests with a placating smile. Then she made the gentle trilling noise and the two dragons occupying Marcus’ body as their perch hopped or flew the short distance to Syranna.
