by Chrys Cymri
‘I see,’ the dragon said solemnly. Then he gave her a wink, and Fianna wondered how much, indeed, he did see. ‘Then what is your reason for coming to the Sacred Mountains?’
‘I am to be crowned Queen.’ Fianna drew herself up to her full height. ‘I seek the recognition of the Family before my people.’
‘Indeed.’ The dragon sat down again, and stretched a hind foot over his folded wing to scratch his neck. The sound of silver screeching against scales put Fianna’s teeth on edge. ‘And why should we do that?’
In this she was confident. Her many lessons in dragon lore gave her the answers she needed. ‘Because we are of the same blood, you and I. At the beginning of things, our family and yours were joined. Our forefathers Richard the Brave and Stormbringer the Mighty mingled the life-liquid of their hearts and pledged our houses together for eternity. Every generation that bond is renewed. I claim upon it now.’
‘The renewal is not automatic.’ He finished scratching, then straightened. ‘You must first give me what I ask of you.’
Fianna nodded. This too had been part of her teaching. ‘I stand ready.’
The dragon chuckled. ‘No, it’s not your blood I ask for.’ The glittering eyes slid past her. ‘The unicorn. Give me his liver.’
The Prancer tensed beside her. She heard his low, warning snort, almost a growl. ‘His liver is not mine to give.’
‘It is within your power.’ The dragon stood. He stretched slowly, majestically, forelegs first, then hind legs, the tail arcing over his back. Muscles rippled smoothly under the close-fitting scales. ‘Stand aside, and I will take him.’
Fianna waited a moment, until she was sure of her voice. ‘And if I do not?’
‘Unicorn, or dragon.’ Amusement was gone from the dragon’s voice. ‘You cannot have both. Choose.’
Fianna’s mouth dried. Never before had she felt so small, standing between a tall unicorn and an even taller dragon. The Prancer said, low and determined behind her, ‘I can defend myself.’
‘Not against a dragon.’ With that, she knew her choice was made. She had taken it several days ago, when she chose to heal a sick unicorn. It had been sealed when she kept the horn hidden from him, forcing him to complete this journey. She would now have to see it through. With a sense of foreboding, she stared up at the dragon. ‘I will not let you have him.’
The dragon hissed his displeasure. He stood, his wings opening wide. ‘Then you shall not have us, Fianna of the royal blood.’
‘Such is always the way of dragons!’ the Prancer shouted. ‘You are not a part of the Land!’
The dragon’s chest expanded. Without any sign of outward motion, he rose slowly into the air. ‘No, we are not. Nor will we be, not until the Land’s Champion has come to us.’
The downbeat of his massive wings pounded the air, sending dirt and stones flying. Fianna covered her eyes, her hair whipping back in the force. Then the dragon was gone, disappearing from sight. ‘Land’s Champion,’ she mused. ‘Where have I heard that term before?’
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They camped that night on the plateau, both in silent agreement about not tackling the trail in near-darkness. Fianna built a fire while the Prancer searched for vegetation. She listened to his attempts as she twisted a gold band around and around her thumb. The Champion’s ring sparkled in the firelight, the ruby eyes echoing the flames just beyond. She must lay new plans now for acquiring a throne.
The Prancer finally gave up his explorations. His hooves flashed in the firelight as he trotted back to her. ‘I’ll be glad to be gone from these mountains.’
‘You miss grass?’
‘Yes.’ He added wistfully, ‘And ale.’
Once again the unicorn brought a smile to her lips. ‘There’s no reason for either of us to remain here.’
‘No, there isn’t. I must challenge the dragon at a later time in his life.’ The Prancer lowered his head. The flames put red tints into his dark eyes. ‘What was the dragon supposed to do for you?’
‘I needed the confirmation of the Family to make my accession to the Dragon Throne secure.’
The Prancer snorted. ‘You’re the heir, are you not? We unicorns never confirm the heir to the Unicorn Throne. Why do you need the assistance of the dragons?’
‘Because my position is not secure.’ Fianna sighed, clenched a fist around the thick ring. ‘By the rules of accession, if a male heir is born to the royal house, he takes precedence over a female, even if she’s older. A boy was born to my father’s second marriage, but he was killed, murdered in his cot, when he was barely a week old. There are those in Secondus who lay the blame for his death at my door.’
‘Would you have murdered him?’
‘No.’ She opened her hand. The rubies had pressed deep into her palm. Even in the faint firelight, she could see the marks left behind. ‘He would have been my brother. But none of them realise that. My step-mother hates me, and my allies in the castle urged me to have him killed. No one understands.’
‘I too have lost a brother,’ the Prancer said gently. ‘When my dam died, shortly after my birth, I was taken to a mare who had recently dropped her own foal. We were raised together. Never apart, until the day the dragon killed him. I know your grief. I share it, the same wonder about what might have been.’
Fianna bent her head for a moment, grateful for the unicorn’s sturdy presence. But she had a kingdom to think about. ‘Because of his death, I will most certainly be challenged when I seek coronation. It’s our tradition that, when the heir lays hand on the Dragon Crown, anyone may challenge her to duel. Either she or, more likely her Champion, will accept the challenge. The duel ends at first blood. If the Champion is defeated, the challenger will become the true power behind the throne. The sovereign will have to issue the commands he decrees.’
The Prancer snorted. ‘Why have a ruling family, if anyone can become the true power?’
‘I’ve always been told this was designed as a safeguard, to ensure an unsuitable ruler could be kept from the Throne. Eventually, after enough challenges, any Champion could be defeated.’ She looked down at the ring again. ‘But I’m not guilty of their accusations, and I will rule. Will you help me?’
A silver horn flashed across the fire. ‘Until I find Storm’s horn, I’ll remain with you. Tell me what I can do.’
‘I need a Champion.’ Fianna stood slowly. ‘Become my Champion, help me ascend to the Dragon Throne. And then I can help you.’
‘I’m willing to be your Champion,’ the Prancer said. ‘But how does your coronation assist me in my duty?’
‘Because of this.’ She held out her left hand. ‘I have two parts of the Summoning Ring. Once I’ve been crowned, I’ll search for the third. With the three pieces joined, I can command the dragons. And I’ll bring the red dragon to you.’
The Prancer bent his head, polished his horn on his flank. Then he turned back to her. ‘Agreed. I will become your Champion.’
Fianna bent her head in acknowledgement. As her aunt had taught her, even defeat could be turned to her advantage. She may not be brought back to Secondus by dragon, but a unicorn would pace at her side. And as a Champion few would be willing to challenge.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Fianna reined the mare to a halt. Mid-afternoon sun was spreading the usual warm glow across the walls and towers of the city, turning the many windows into glittering jewels. ‘Secondus,’ she told the Prancer proudly. ‘Capital city of the Fourth Kingdom.’
The unicorn halted beside her. Mounted, she was taller than him, but only just. She had the feeling that that wouldn’t last long. ‘You love this city.’
It was a statement, not a question. ‘Yes,’ she answered simply. ‘I do.’
‘As I love the trees of our forest.’ He snorted in gentle amusement. ‘Our kingdoms are not meant to be allies, yet I feel far more kinship to you than I did to the one who sits on the Unicorn Throne.’
Fianna paused to keep the eagerness from her voic
e. ‘You’ve met King Anton?’
‘I was at his city before I came to this kingdom.’ A hind hoof struck the ground. ‘The ale was stale, and the company also.’
‘We’ll see what opinion you’ll form of what Secondus can offer,’ Fianna said, smiling.
‘I come for another reason to Secondus.’
Fianna felt her smile slip. Could the unicorn have his own secret agenda? ’Which is?’
‘I have a second task, which I undertake for my sire.’ He struck the ground again at the mention of his father. ‘I must speak with your mages, even as I did with the mages of the Third Kingdom. The magic is disappearing from the Land.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Those of us who are of the Land,’ the Prancer said with a touch of arrogance, ‘can sense the slow withering.’
‘And those of us who aren’t,’ Fianna replied tartly, ‘will just have to rely on you fortunate few.’
The Prancer stepped back and studied her for a moment. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he said, ‘All unicorns know the Land. Few humans do. But no unicorn knows how to brew ale.’
‘I’m glad humans have some use.’
‘Only those who can brew ale.’
Fianna was readying another retort when a noise from the city distracted her. People were coming through the gates, hands shielding their eyes from the sun as they stared at the rider and unicorn in the distance. She sighed. ‘Come on. We have an audience now.’
The Prancer shook himself, sweeping tail across withers and legs to clear the dust of travel. Earlier that day he had found a lake and taken the opportunity to remove the grime of their climb down from the mountains. Now he gleamed in the sunlight. Well aware of the magnificent creature who trotted beside her mare, Fianna kept her head high as they headed for the city.
The unicorn came to a sudden halt by the Sign. ‘Don’t make it sing,’ he told her. ‘The sound hurts my ears.’
‘Sing?’ she repeated. ‘It’s been silent since before my father’s time.’
‘Good.’ He snorted. ‘The one at Primus was far from silent.’
There’s a Sign at Primus, she thought, wondering. Then she kneed her horse forward to take them through the city gates.
Citizens finishing last minute purchases along the Traders Street turned their heads as they passed. Children ran out from houses, wide-eyed at the sight of a one-horned horse. Fianna kept her face impassive, although internally she seethed at every hand lifted in half-hearted welcome, people unable to decide whether the unicorn were victory or the lack of dragon were defeat. I’ll have to teach them that this is victory, she vowed. Somehow, I must teach them.
The crowd thickened as rumour travelled faster than hooves through the winding streets. Fianna kept her eyes forward, refusing to answer any of the questions on the waiting faces. She urged the mare into a trot. The Prancer matched the pace, silver hooves striking cobbled streets with a higher ring than her steel-shod mount. The castle slowly came nearer. Fianna felt herself relax as the gates swung open to allow them in, only now realising how weary she was. And I need a good bath, she decided, feeling the sweat of the last day’s travel drying on her skin.
‘The ground,’ the Prancer said suddenly beside her, ‘feels strange beneath my hooves.’
The mare shied slightly, still unaccustomed to hearing another four-legged creature speak. Fianna tightened her grip on the reins. ‘The streets of Secondus are only fixed to those of royal blood, and for those with whom they travel. Others find their journeys often lengthened as the roads change from turning to turning. Mages say they can feel the shifting of the magic beneath their feet. You must sense the same.’
‘I can sense the magic. This place is still in contact with the Land, unlike Primus.’ Then the Prancer snorted. ‘But I’m surprised that humans would wish to live in such an unpredictable place.’
Fianna smiled at the laughing comment. ‘Because Secondus is the capital city of the Fourth Kingdom, the place of the sovereign’s palace, the location of the Mages' College, and many of its denizens enjoy the challenge. The city often begins to become more predictable to its own. And people are always able to find their way home at night.’
They clattered through the gates. A contingent of her supporters awaited them in the courtyard. The same questioning expressions Fianna had seen throughout the city were repeated on their faces, and her aunt’s was laced with disapproval. Only Pealla moved forward once they halted, sparing merely a quick glance at the unicorn. The knight reached up a hand to hold the mare’s reins as Fianna dismounted.
‘Come, all of you,’ Fianna demanded loudly. ‘I have returned from the Sacred Mountains, and a unicorn paces at my side. Where’s my welcome?’
‘Your Highness,’ Pealla said in a low voice, ‘we were expecting you adragonback.’
‘I know.’ Fianna forced a grin. ‘And I have instead returned with a unicorn. We should be rejoicing!’
Her aunt strode forward and pointed her cane at the Prancer. ‘And why should that creature be accompanying you?’
The Prancer said quietly, ‘My lady, I have sworn myself to the service of the heir to the Dragon Throne.’
Fianna held back her smile as only Pealla held her place, the others instinctively backing away. Then her aunt nodded, her frown easing. ‘Yes. Perhaps you will have your uses after all.’
The Prancer snorted. ‘Not until I have grazed and sampled your ale. Where is your hospitality?’
‘Woefully amiss,’ Pealla said firmly. ‘Squire Jeremy, recall your duties and take away the Princess’s mount for grooming and feeding. My lord...?’ she turned to the unicorn.
‘My present name is the Prancer,’ he answered.
She gave him a slight bow. ‘I am Pealla, Colonel of the royal army. How may we best attend to your needs, Lord Prancer?’
Fianna found herself admiring the Colonel’s easy poise and tactful approach. ‘I grazed this morning,’ the Prancer said, ‘but I’m very thirsty. What’s the reputation of Secondus ale?’
‘It is highly thought of.’ Fianna said, stepping closer to the unicorn as her mare was led away. ‘Castellan, prepare the guest quarters in the ground level of the east wing for the Lord Unicorn. One near the gardens.’ She waited a moment, then added, ‘Also prepare the large chamber next to it for my possessions. I shall be moving there.’
Now she had all of their attention again. Traditionally only one person had the privilege of rooms next to the sovereign’s own. ‘So,’ Sallah said slowly, ‘he is to be your Champion. This must be discussed.’
Fianna took a deep breath, then faced the older woman. ‘Later.’
‘Tomorrow, first thing after the morning meal.’ Then Sallah turned away. Fianna watched her make her way back into the castle. Once again she had let her aunt make the decision. But it wasn’t a bad one, she argued with herself. So, that must make it all right. Doesn’t it?
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The Prancer dived, bringing his horn down, then up and around, knocking Pealla’s sword away. Hooves digging deep into the soil of the practice yard, he twisted back, and touched the silver tip lightly against her leather armour.
‘Well done, Lord Prancer,’ Pealla said, her breathing heavy. She stepped back, bowed. ‘I concede the match to you.’
The Prancer lowered his head in an answering bow. ‘You have improved.’
Pealla laughed. ‘Only because you used horn alone. Against hooves as well I would have little chance.’
The Prancer watched her retrieve the sword, and clean it carefully with a rag. ‘I have an unfair advantage. A unicorn cannot be harmed by steel.’
‘Why not?’
‘The metal isn’t pure enough.’ The Prancer stepped forward. ‘Try to press the tip into my shoulder.’
The woman obeyed without question, at first placing only a light pressure on the hilt, then adding more. The tip stubbornly held short of the skin. ‘A good protection, Lord Prancer,’ Pealla said, finally sheathing the bl
ade. ‘I recommend that you reveal this to no one else.’
‘I thought all humans knew,’ he said, confused. ‘Unicorns can only be harmed by pure silver.’
‘Those of the Third Kingdom may know. We have little knowledge of unicorn lore.’ Pealla took a seat on one of the benches at the edge of the yard, using a small towel to wipe the sweat from her face. ‘The advantage of your protection lies in not revealing it.’
The Prancer pawed the ground uneasily. ‘But that’s unfair to anyone who might challenge me.’
‘Not by the rules of the challenge.’ Pealla filled a bowl with water and placed it on another bench. The Prancer moved forward, and gratefully took several swallows. ‘The Challenger enters with what weapons and armour he wishes. The Champion may either match or come in as he is by nature, unarmed and unarmoured.’
The Prancer snorted. ‘Why would any human wish to do that?’
‘The challenge ends when first blood is drawn.’ She shrugged. ‘If a Champion felt his chances of victory were nil, he wouldn’t even attempt to fight. Anyroads, you will step into the circle as you are, and thus the rules won’t be broken. And I don’t expect yours to be the first blood drawn.’
‘Not so long as steel is used.’ The advantage still felt unfair. I’ll just have to win by being the better fighter, the Prancer decided.
‘I believe that would make little difference.’ Pealla unbuckled her chest guard, letting it slide onto the bench beside her. The bitter-sour scent of human sweat made the Prancer’s nostrils flutter. ‘I must admit, when we first discussed your Champion status in this morning’s council, I had my doubts.’
The Prancer snorted a laugh. ‘And now that you have tested me, you approve?’
Pealla smiled. ‘Aye, unicorn. Though I know not what words the Lady Sallah will spread through the kingdom, to defend the Princess’s choice of unicorn over dragon, I confess to finding you more companionable than members of the Family.’
