by Megan Derr
"It is a long story."
"Then come, eat and tell it. Who are your companions?"
"Friends and allies. Gerald of Longmoore and Keverick of Cherrior from the South, and Bran of Trenton from the West."
Another silence fell. "Bran of Trenton?" Trey peered through narrow eyes at Bran, who stared solemnly back. "You are the Knight Captain of the Western King." His voice had gone cold. "We will not share fire and food with one who has slain so many of us." He drew his sword again. "Not even for you, Topaz."
Bran's voice was neutral as he replied, sword still sheathed. "What of you and your men? Abandoning your castle to prey on civilians whose only crime was to live on the border? At least I only harm men in battle, instead of people in their homes and fields."
"We do what we must to survive." Trey's face flooded with unhappiness, but the steel returned to it a second later. "How could you possibly understand? We are bound here, with no way out to seek help. Instead of a worthy king, would-be leaders change nearly by the month. Many of the bandits preying on your people are not knights, but simply peasants . I do what I can to control them, but they are desperate and scared."
"That does not excuse your poor behavior. You are—or were—a Knight Captain yourself. It is poor leadership indeed that would allow knights and the people to resort to violence against those who have done no wrong."
Trey glared and hefted his sword. "I do not much care for your words."
"It was your own words that provoked mine. Peace, I say. My intentions are only good."
"I care not for the intentions of a pretentious Westerner!" Trey lunged, sword flashing in the torchlight.
Bran drew his sword and deflected the blow, blades clashing loudly in the semi-dark clearing. He forced Trey away, then raised his sword to continue defending. A brief glance at Topaz as he stepped back and to the side showed Topaz was utterly dejected—and disappointed. Bran frowned, suddenly filled with fury.
With a rough cry he parried Trey's next blow, then struck out in an unexpected dash forward, moving in close and swinging hard enough that it jarred the other man to block it, slowing him momentarily. Trey was unable to block his next blow, and the press of Bran's blade to his throat ended the duel. "This is not the time for personal grievances, Trey of Mistdale. Topaz has come all this way, and enlisted my aid, to see that your country becomes again the place your king and the sage Rowan loved. You are hurting him by fighting with me. Is that how you treat friends? Or do you no longer consider Topaz a friend?"
Trey's infuriated expression faded as Bran's words struck him. He cast a glance at Topaz's unhappy face and let his sword fall to the ground.
Bran withdrew and re-sheathed his own blade. A thin line of blood marred Trey's throat.
"Perhaps I overreacted," Trey said shortly to Topaz before turning away and with a jerk of his head indicating they should follow. "Come, there is much to discuss."
*~*~*
It was well onto early morning before everything was concluded. Trey looked at Bran and offered a begrudging apology. "You go to great lengths for us."
"As I said before, it benefits all of us to see the North stable again. And 'tis better to earn my freedom this way than to wait indefinitely for release from a king who most likely will not grant it."
"I was unfair when first we met. My apologies." Trey held out his hand.
Surprised, Bran shook his head. "Be at peace." They clasped wrists. "I would be more concerned if you had acted pleasantly."
"Peace, then." Trey looked to Topaz. "It is still incredible to me that you are alive. Have you a plan in mind?"
"Vladimir cannot be killed easily," Topaz said . "First though we must find the focus of the barrier spell."
"Killing him will not break it?" Bran asked.
Trey shook his head. "No. Spells do not work that way. A spell such as the one Vladimir has cast is bound to the land upon which he cast it. Much like the markings the Easterners ink into their skin. But there should be a…focus somewhere, an anchor of sorts. Only Vlad would know what that is, and he undoubtedly has it protected. If we kill him without knowing what the focus is, we could search for years and never find it.
"I…sort of understand." Bran said. Beside him Gerald and Keverick shrugged, equally confused. "So we need first to capture him and find this…focus."
"Exactly," Topaz said. "Though of course it will not be that simple."
Bran sighed. It would take them months, even years, to repair the damage caused by turmoil and strife. First and foremost was gathering the bandits and turning them back into a proper army …plus the peasants to calm and bring to order, along with a number of other matters.
It was nearly dawn before they ceased talking, and on weary feet they followed Trey and his fellows to a place where they could rest in safety.
*~*~*
It had taken them many months to get to this point. Months and a great many losses. With Topaz's guidance and Trey's assistance, Bran had rallied the bandits and people and made them the country they once had been. The mercenaries hired by Vladimir and his unreliable cohorts had either been persuaded to join or routed entirely. Vladimir's magic had taken its toll on them, but Topaz had kept the worst of it from them.
Now all that was left was Vladimir himself—and the barrier.
Taking possession of the castle was the easy part. There were few threats left, and those few foolish enough to attack them—Bran could only suppose they were well paid and desperate for that pay—were cut down by either him or Trey as they made their way to the backroom where Vladimir was lurking. They had cut off all other possible routes of escape.
Reaching for the doors to the throne room, Bran frowned as Trey firmly pushed him away. "Allow me," he said, "in case he has sabotaged it."
"But—"
Trey ignored him and drew his sword. With effort he shoved open one of the heavy doors, braced for any possible attack. Warily he stepped into the throne room, which was decorated in blue and gilt.
Vladimir sat lazily on the throne, looking for all the world like he had not a care in the world. Until he saw Topaz. "You! We killed you."
Topaz tapped his necklace. "You should have left me my jewelry, fool. A wound fatal to a human is naught but a scratch to a dragon."
His face twisted with anger for a moment before Vladimir managed to smooth it out. "So what are your plans now? Killing me will not fix anything. Unless your plan is to take my place."
"No," Topaz said softly. "I am not a king. And we must get rid of the barrier before we do anything else."
"If you think I am going to give you the focus, you are severely deluded. I will kill myself before I give that to you."
Bran raised his sword and began to respond, but he was cut off by a motion and look from Topaz. "Allow me, Bran."
"As you wish, Topaz." With a nod and dip of his shoulders, Bran stepped back.
Topaz stared with narrow eyes at the thin, oily would-be king. He turned toward his companions. "Wait for me outside."
"What?" Trey said in astonishment.
Bran cocked his head, then sheathed his sword and nodded again. Grabbing Trey by the upper arm, Bran hauled him back and stared intently into Topaz's eyes. "Be careful."
"Of course." Even as they were still walking out, Topaz began to unfasten the necklace at his throat. As Bran closed the heavy doors behind them, he could see the familiar form of the dragon filling the large chamber.
He turned to the disgruntled Trey. "I think he knows where the focus is…and you cannot begrudge him the revenge he has been denied for so long."
"Of course not," Trey said, frustrated. "But I would have liked to have seen it. That man has ruined more lives than Topaz's."
Bran nodded, "Yes. But—"
"But nothing. Be at peace. I know my place."
Smiling, Bran changed the subject. "Keverick and Gerald are not yet returned?"
"They are returned," Keverick said from the doorway. "And we have a gift from the W
estern King, for his knight errant who is working to rescue the North."
Keverick and Gerald had volunteered to go as messengers to the West to inform them of what was occurring in the North. They were the last of three sets of messengers to return. Gerald grinned. "He was most displeased to hear that you were still alive and had declined to inform him sooner. His gift is sent in the hopes that once your 'idiocy' is concluded, you will hasten back to his command." He paused. "But there are a few who accompanied your surprise who have other ideas."
Bran frowned, confused and upset. "What?"
"Come see… Where is Topaz?"
Trey motioned Bran to go on and explained how Topaz had ordered them out of the room.
Outside, Bran let out a cry of surprised delight. For in the courtyard was Crush, surrounded by a great many faces that he had thought never to see again. Silence fell for a moment, and then Bran found himself nearly drowning in knights. He let their remonstrations and cries of joy drown him.
At last they quieted, save the occasional mutter that they could not believe he was still alive. "Brothers, what do you here?"
A dark haired knight replied in an offended tone. "How could we not come when we heard our captain was still alive? Crush has missed you something awful, Captain. No one could touch him except for your Southern friends. I think somehow Crush knew they had been with you."
Another knight nodded. "How could you, Captain? We thought you were dead. It has been abysmal without you. Why did you not send for us?"
"I… There was never a chance," Bran fumbled. He shook his head. "Your fealty is to your king, not to your captain."
"To that selfish bastard who does nothing but sit and point?" his red-haired second-in-command sneered a reply. "Nay, Captain. Our loyalty is yours, not his. We were grief-stricken by your death. And then we discover you have been alive all the while? Broke our hearts, Captain, that you did not call for us. We would have come immediately."
Bran was overwhelmed. "I…I am sorry. I thought 'twould be best to leave you out of it. I myself did not realize just how entangled I would become. It started out as a quest to kill a dragon."
"We will forgive you this time," a blond knight said with a grin. "But see that you do not do it again."
"I shall endeavor to stay away from further rebellions. And I shall call for you should I find myself entangled in one."
"That will do, then. Now go pay attention to Crush before he lives up to his name for keeping you from him."
Bran needed no further encouragement and moved to stroke and pet the horse he had regretted leaving behind. The horse nuzzled him, nearly knocking him over more than once in his enthusiasm.
The reunion was interrupted by the clamoring and murmuring of his men as they stared at something on the steps. Turning around to see, Bran realized they were staring at Topaz, who was once again human. He was clutching something in his right hand.
Leaving his horse, Bran dashed up the steps to Topaz's side. "Are you all right?"
"I am fine. I suggest no one go in the throne room for a bit, however. It smells quite vile." He smiled tiredly, his eyes much lighter than Bran had ever seen them. "I never quite thought we would reach this point. Here is the focus… I knew the moment I saw it on his hand that it would be in this." He opened his hand and glittering on his palm was a ring Bran distantly remembered seeing on Vladimir's hand. The band was made of gold and set into it was a fat, glittering ruby. "It belonged to Rowan, a gift from the king one year. He held it dear, and Vladimir had always envied him for bearing such a gift when the king had never given him more than a nod."
"Not very clever of him."
"I think 'tis obvious that Vladimir is—was—far from clever," Trey said dryly. "So are we free then?"
Topaz whispered a spell over the ring, and for a moment the world went hazy. When it cleared again, Trey's face was remarkably lighter. Bran had not realized until then just how tense his friend had really looked.
"The spell is gone!" Trey crowed. He beamed at Bran and Topaz. "You really have done it."
Bran shook his head. "This was Topaz's endeavor. I have done little."
"On the contrary," Topaz said firmly. "You are the one who gathered the bandits." He forestalled a protest with his hand. "It is true that Trey and I got them to stop and listen, but it was you and your story that moved them, united them. So too with the people. These men," he motioned with a sweep of his arm to the knights and mercenaries gathered before the castle, "follow you. I am your advisor, little more."
"Indeed," Trey agreed. "We are all your faithful followers, Bran of the North."
"Of the…what are you saying?"
Topaz grinned. "As usual, dearest Bran, you are utterly oblivious to anything concerning you. In all these months, have you never noticed that these people have made you their leader?"
"Leader? What? I am no leader, not any longer. Merely a knight in search of his freedom." Bran shifted his gaze from Topaz to Trey, then to Gerald and Keverick. He grew more discomfited. "Surely there is already an heir somewhere waiting to claim his throne?"
"Nay," Topaz shook his head. "The king lost his wife when they were both young. He refused to remarry, and there were never any children. His parents died several years before he was killed. Vladimir knew what he was doing, in that respect. There are no challengers to the throne; and even if there were, they would not succeed in taking it from you."
"The throne! Are all of you are mad?" Bran shook his head, tried to step away, to the side, anywhere—but there was nowhere to go. "I am no king. I am not fit for it. Besides, you or Trey have far better a claim than I."
"Nonsense," Trey said. "I would make a terrible king, so too would Topaz. You are the one we have chosen, despite the fact you never seemed to notice."
Bran shook his head. "All I wanted was freedom and a home in which to enjoy it."
Topaz smiled in gentle amusement. "You are still dense. It is a good thing you have the four of us to save you from yourself." He turned to Trey and Gerald, who were closest to Bran. "Make sure he remains there."
The men grinned.
Turning, Topaz moved to the steps and down one, so that he was just below Bran. He addressed the crowd assembled in the courtyard: "People of the North! You are free!"
The cheers continued unabated for several long minutes and died down only so that Topaz could give them further reason to celebrate. With his arm he indicated a pale-faced Bran. "I present to you, your savior and new king—Bran of the North!"
The response to this statement was deafening, and Bran would have fled but for the grips Trey and Gerald had on his arms. Shaking them off, he glared briefly at them both before taking a deep breath and stepping forward to the accept the role he could not find a way to refuse.
*~*~*
It was nearly midnight when Topaz guided an exhausted Bran to his chambers, which had been hastily cleaned and scoured of all that remained of the vanished Vladimir. No traces of him could be found anywhere, and Topaz refused to explain what had transpired. Not that he really needed to, with the acrid smell of burned flesh that lingered in the throne room.
Wearily Bran sat down in a chair set beside the massive fireplace at the far end of the king's solar—his solar. It was unnerving. He looked anxiously at Topaz. "This is not what I wanted, nor what I had planned when we began this adventure."
"Nor had I. But it was not hard to foresee it once we began in earnest to repair the country. No matter what you think, the role suits you."
"I do not want it." Bran's shoulders sagged. "I sought freedom, Topaz. Not to be a king. My king will not be pleased by this turn of events at all."
"He is your king no longer," Topaz said sternly. "He is your equal now. I should think you are the better, actually. You are Bran, King of the North. Best get used to it." Topaz knelt beside him. "Are you certain that it was freedom you sought when you ventured into the woods so long ago?"
"What do you mean? Of course it was freedom."
"Thank you," Bran said dismally. "So what do I want then, if not freedom? Because if I am to be king, I most definitely do not have that."
Topaz set his arms on Bran's, which were resting on the arms of the chair. His gold-brown eyes were warm, voice soft as he replied, "To not be alone? I think, in your mind, knighthood is linked with loneliness. So you sought to free yourself from it. But look at you now: the growing adoration of a kingdom, three steadfast and loyal friends, and countless knights from the North who abandoned their King to give you their loyalty. You also have me."
"Topaz…" Jewel-blue eyes dark with confusion and suppressed longing, Bran stared into Topaz's eyes.
How many times over the past several months had he tried in vain to avoid his feelings for Topaz? Too many to count. It seemed there was never a good time to work through them, and every time he saw Gerald and Keverick together, his desire and love for Topaz became that much harder to ignore. It should dismay him, to feel this strongly for someone not actually human, but resisting was impossible, and that resistance crumbled a bit more every time he saw Topaz smile, or the sunlight bathe that beautiful skin, or even when Topaz teased him yet again about how they had met in the forest.
"You look like a lost little boy." Topaz chuckled softly. "Besides the fact that I can read minds when I'm a dragon, you are not very good at hiding your thoughts when one knows what to look for."
Mortified, Bran jerked his eyes away from Topaz's gaze, turning his head to stare anywhere else at all. "That does not bode well if I am going to be king."
"Stop that. You will make a splendid king." Topaz reached up from his kneeling position, breath warm against Bran's cheek, making him shiver. "If you had not been so busy trying to hide, you might have noticed that I was watching you just as often."
