One Cannot Deny a Blood Oath with a Dragon

by T P Sheehan

  “Father!” Catanya exclaimed, walking up to Xavier, who looked at her intently. “Why is your brother here?”

  Xavier looked to the priest then back to Catanya. “We will discuss that soon enough.” A bleak expression washed over his face.

  Catanya looked to Magnus then her father, scowling. “Be nice. Please.”

  “I see you took the liberty of procuring Trillium for the afternoon?” Xavier countered.

  “He’s a fast horse. If not for him, Magnus and I would have kept you waiting rather than the other way around.” Catanya took a step toward her father, placing her hands defiantly on her hips. She looked then to Austagia and frowned.

  “Hmm. I’m sure when the Rhydermere honoured me with a purebred Wardemeer they did not account for meddling daughters.” Xavier turned to Magnus. “Come then Magnus. Let us talk in private.” He opened the door and waited for Magnus to enter.

  Magnus smiled at Catanya and gave a polite nod to Alessandra. Both returned in kind. He wished he could have heard all of what Alessandra had to say, for she seemed to be telling him something of importance. “It would be you if things were not as they were.” What did she mean? He walked to the door and followed Xavier in.

  “Congratulations.” Xavier extended a hand to Magnus. Magnus shook it. He was unsure whether he was talking about his selection into knighthood or taking his daughter’s hand in marriage. “Primary candidate no less. And deservedly so.” Xavier held Magnus’s hand firmly in both of his.

  “It was you who made the decision?” Magnus asked. He wondered if Xavier had also made the decision not to select Lucas.

  “Honestly, there was little decision to be made.” Xavier opened a tall cabinet on the wall next to him, removed a flask and poured two glasses of wine. “Tell me, have you ever lost a bout with the sword?”

  Magnus tried to relax. “In competition, no. In training I have only ever lost to Lucas,” he lied and looked to Xavier to see his reaction. Xavier stared at him closely as he handed him a glass.

  “That I highly doubt.” Xavier raised his glass. “To you, on your selection with the knighthood.”

  Magnus raised his glass. “Why do you doubt Lucas would best me?” He was curious.

  Xavier took a large draft of his wine. “What you really want to ask me is why your friend was not selected as a candidate.” Magnus said nothing, but took a sip of his drink. Xavier carried himself with such confidence that Magnus dared not give the impression he was challenging his decision. “His father was a great warrior, as was yours. As for Lucas—he strives for the approval of others—a corruptible quality where loyalties can shift. You on the other hand have your own cause, your own motivations. You try to be the best regardless of the price or prize. Such a quality is not so malleable.”

  “Would the Authoritarium not seek those who do as they want?”

  “That may suit the Authoritarium. Right now our people need warriors who fight for what is right.”

  “And his selection as a reserve candidate?” Magnus dared to push the issue a little further, not half because it delayed the issue of Catanya.

  “That may become apparent in a moment.” Xavier gave Magnus a moment to weigh on his words. Magnus however, was not sure what to make of Xavier’s intimations.

  “To you,” Xavier charged his glass, “On your selection to the knighthood.” Magnus and Xavier both took a sip of wine. “Of course, when you’re on duty as a knight you won’t be drinking any of this stuff.” He flashed a smile revealing teeth equally as white as his daughter’s. “It makes it all the better when you’re not!” With that, Xavier downed the rest of his wine and returned to the cabinet to refill his glass. Magnus took a long draw of his own drink.

  “Now, to business.” Xavier pointed to one of two leather-bound chairs in the room. “Please.” Magnus took a seat as Xavier did. Clearly Magnus was getting no further about the subject of Lucas and so he decided to get to the point of his visit.

  “As you know, Catanya and I have known each other for a very long time…”

  “You wish to marry my daughter,” Xavier interjected. Magnus was surprised at his frankness.

  “More than anything. Yes. We both do.” Magnus sat straight in his chair. Xavier sniffed at his glass of wine, apparently deep in thought.

  “What are your intentions, Magnus? I ask you this because I know your father. I know him very well.” Magnus frowned, waiting for Xavier to get to the point. “Do not get me wrong, I have the utmost respect for the man. I trained under him for several years and his accomplishments are second to none. However…” Xavier raised his glass and took a big sip. “His disdain for the Authoritarium is well known. You are aware of this?”

  Magnus sighed, hoping it was not too obvious. “Sire, I do not see what this has to do with Catanya and I.”

  “What I’m getting at, Magnus, is will your father approve of you joining the knighthood under the current regime? Under the rule of the Authoritarium?”

  Magnus felt trapped and even worse—it was a trap he had not considered himself. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. He decided there was nothing he could do but speak the truth. “No, he will not approve. And I have no intention of joining the knighthood. I will stay with my father on our lands and become a farmer as my father is. Catanya knows this and supports my decision.”

  “Tell me, why did you train to be the best all these years only to decline such an offer?”

  “I wished to prove I was as capable as any other.”

  “And for how long will that give you peace?” Xavier leaned toward Magnus. “Watching, knowing you could be a better knight than your peers and bowing before each succession of knights for all the years to come?” Magnus had no counter argument. Xavier had spoken the exact thoughts he often dwelled on.

  Xavier sat back into his chair and sighed—a far more obvious sigh than Magnus’s. “I am sorry Magnus, I will not let you marry Catanya.” Magnus sank back into his own chair. His heart seemed to sink even lower. “Catanya deserves someone who will pursue the best for himself and for her. Someone true to himself and true to her. If you compromise on your choices now, where will you stop?”

  Magnus stared blankly at Xavier. Was the man seriously telling him to go against his own father’s will? Magnus could not help but point out the irony in Xavier’s words. “You are telling me to stand against my father’s judgement. By the same measure is Catanya not able to decide for herself what is right for her?”

  “If you were one of my men, such words would see you disciplined for insubordination. But you aren’t and have no intention of being. I think therefore our conversation is at its end.” Xavier stood and walked to the cabinet once again. “You can see yourself out.”

  Magnus knew any further argument would be fruitless, particularly after the insubordination remark. However, he could not leave without voicing one last truth.

  “If I am going to make a stand it will be for a more worthy reason than the Authoritarium’s knighthood. It will be for Catanya.” Xavier turned with a hard look on his face. Before he could retort, Magnus concluded. “You do not give us your blessing and I respect that—for now.” He was unsure why he said what he did other than refusing to accept Xavier’s decision as final.

  Magnus left the room as instructed and immediately made eye contact with Catanya. He could see she was evaluating his facial expression. He opened his mouth to speak but Xavier’s voice shouted from the room behind him. “Catanya. Here. Now.” Catanya moved toward the door, not taking her eyes off Magnus. He grabbed her arm as she passed. He had to say something. He had to speak to her. There had to be a way…

  “Wait for me by the river,” Catanya whispered as she hurried into the room Magnus had just left. She looked at Magnus once again then closed the door behind her.

  PRIESTHOOD

  “Father?” Catanya looked to Xavier who seemed reluctant to turn from the cabinet, where he poured himself another glass of wine. “Father, look at me.” Xavier fi
nally turned to Catanya but did not say a word. “You said no didn’t you. You told Magnus you would not approve.”

  Catanya had feared the worst. Her mother had been too quiet. Mother knew. “Father, all my life Magnus has been the one. We are meant to be together.”

  “Catanya, it is not to be.” Xavier spoke gently. Catanya could see he believed his words no more than she did.

  “It is to be. I will marry Magnus.”

  Xavier’s voice sharpened. “Your place is elsewhere.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Austagia,” he called.

  Catanya watched as the robed priest entered the room. Something was not right.

  “Father, what’s going on?” She looked at her estranged uncle. All she knew of him came from stories her father had told of their childhood together. His face broadened when he spoke of him. But the tales he told always finished with silence—his thoughts drifting. It was as though he was harbouring some regret.

  A priest came to her father’s family years ago. His name was Steyne, and Austagia was to be his understudy. It was considered an honour to have one’s child drafted into the order, but it was an unspoken truth that it broke the hearts of loved ones. The priesthood was for life. It was a life of celibacy and commitment. This held no appeal to Catanya, or Magnus, or most of their friends in the realm. All the Irucantî were born of fire—of the Fire Realm. At the end of the harvest, on the even counted years, a single candidate would receive the call.

  Austagia had come to visit once, when Catanya was five years old. Her grandmother had passed and Austagia came for the funeral. He seemed so tall and so serious to her then. He never smiled and paid her little heed short of staring at her occasionally. Catanya had put it down to his grieving. Looking at him now though, she saw not much had changed.

  “Catanya.” Xavier walked over to her and gently cupped his hand over her left shoulder. “The order of the Irucantî has kindly requested that you be inducted into their order.”

  Catanya smiled at her father’s jest. “There is to be no induction into the priesthood this year. Not until next year.”

  “There is to be this one concession.” It was Austagia speaking for the first time.

  Xavier looked to his brother then to the ground. “You have been chosen over all others, Catanya.”

  “What? What are you saying? I am to become a priest?” Catanya pushed her father’s hand away and stepped back.

  “It is an honour to join our order,” Austagia said.

  “I’ll decide if it’s an honour!” Catanya looked to her father. “Is this to stop me marrying Magnus? What if he was to become a knight? Would you allow me to marry him then?” Xavier kept his silence. “That would make no difference, would it?” Catanya deduced. “You were going to send me to the priesthood regardless. You lied to Magnus.”

  Xavier kindly asked Austagia to leave the room. The priest gave a nod and there was a brief, quiet exchange between them. Catanya watched them closely. Anger boiled in her at her father’s betrayal. She knew he had a part in this. It was most certainly not a regular induction into the order. Austagia left, closing the door behind him and Catanya was quick to speak.

  “You had Magnus leave here believing he was not good enough for you. Not good enough for me. It didn’t matter what he did, he was always going to be rejected. Am I right?”

  “There is a lot more at stake here, Catanya. In time you will understand.”

  “I understand perfectly well.” Tears brimmed Catanya’s eyes and she turned to leave the room, not wanting her father to see her so upset.

  “Catanya,” her father snapped. She hesitated then looked back at him. Her tears spilled down her cheeks. She could see her father hesitate, sympathy in his eyes. It angered her ever the more. But then he stood tall, pulling himself to attention and addressed her formally. “You will have your chance to say your farewells, then leave for the Romghold in the morning.”

  “I have nothing more to say. Not to you. Not ever again. But then, that is the will of the order anyway, is it not?” Catanya turned and stormed out of the room.

  NUYAN RIVER

  Magnus sat on the western bank of the Nuyan River among the irises and tall grasses that lined the bank for many miles. He peered into the river’s crystal waters then across to the eastern bank and up the knoll toward the township of Nuyan and Catanya’s home. He picked a selection of the purple flowers and tied their long stems together with a thick reed of grass before setting them aside. Magnus gazed once again into the depths of the river where a trout swam against the current toward the small waterfall a hundred yards up stream. “What then, when you reach the waterfall?” he lamented.

  Magnus threw a pebble across the surface of the river, attempting to skim it, only he threw too hard and the stone dove deep into the water before settling on the gravel at its bed. His ponderings were interrupted when he heard faint footsteps across the river.

  “Magnus?” It was Catanya. She shielded her eyes from the late afternoon sun. Magnus stood and walked to the edge of the water as Catanya stepped across stones placed evenly across the river and landed beside Magnus on the other side. They embraced. Catanya buried her head against Magnus’s chest and clasped her arms around his back. Magnus picked her up, pulling her even tighter against him. Catanya shifted her arms around his neck, kissing him firmly on the lips. Magnus could feel the warmth of her tears on his cheeks.

  A long while passed before they slowly pulled away from one another. Magnus handed Catanya the bouquet of irises, feeling the softness of her hands as she took them. She smiled weakly.

  “The flowers of J’esmagd,” Catanya said. “I still remember the first time you gave me some. I took them home and placed them in the pitcher on the kitchen table. My mother accused me of trespassing over to J’esmagdlands—your lands—and stealing them.” Catanya looked to the ground and Magnus saw a tear fall. He placed his hand gently under her chin and tilted her head up, looking into her watery eyes.

  “But I dared not tell her they were from you,” Catanya continued. “I looked at them each day until time made them wither. I had taken a part of you home and I have dreamt thereafter of the rest of you coming someday.”

  Magnus traced her long hair with his fingers, over the olive skin of her shoulders and across the straps of her dress. He was at a loss for words.

  “My father is giving me away,” Catanya said, looking down again.

  “What do you mean? To whom?” Magnus asked, puzzled.

  “To the order of the Irucantî. Apparently, I am to become a priest.” Catanya looked at him again.

  Magnus feigned a smile. He tried to see the humour in Catanya’s words, but her face told a different story—she was serious. “Your uncle... That is why he came to Nuyan,” Magnus realised.

  “Aye.”

  Magnus froze. “The priesthood? Why?”

  “I do not know. Magnus, something is going on. I know it. I have not seen my father this way before.”

  “I think your mother knew too.” Magnus recalled his brief conversation with Alessandra. “She said we would marry if things were not as they were. What did she mean by that?”

  Catanya seemed lost in her own world. She walked a little way down the riverbank before turning and heading back again. Magnus watched her, trying to form a vision of Catanya as a priest. She had such a lean build and was barely up to his shoulders in height. Hardly a fighting warrior. To become a dragon priest was not a sedentary calling. Catanya would become one of the most formidable warriors in all of Allumbreve. She would be a fighting Irucantî—a Ferustir! He found it hard to imagine her in the priesthood with her hair shaved to the scalp, her head tattooed in the markings of the Fire Realm. A smile came to his face.

  “What is it, Magnus?” Catanya wiped her cheeks, an inquisitive smile on her face.

  “Catanya the dragon warrior… Does this mean the next time we meet, you’ll be able to give me a hiding?”

  Catanya’s eyes lit up and her jaw droppe
d. Her expression quickly morphed into a scowl. “No more than I could now.” They both laughed.

  ‘You could never…” Magnus teased.

  “Says he, who didn’t do his first spell until he was seven!” Catanya teased.

  “How old were you?”

  “Six—like Hannah.”

  “If only I could have been so gifted,” Magnus mocked. Catanya shook her head.

  A fleeting idea suddenly came to Magnus. He bit a thumbnail and looked about, trying to find the sanity in his ludicrous idea. There was nothing for it—it was the only option.

  “Catanya, we could run.”

  Catanya thought it over, but not for long. “Let’s. Now! We could make for the Crescent Woods.”

  “No, they would surely find us there. The woods are too small. Unlike Froughton Forest—we could hide there for an age.” Magnus grew excited. This surely had to be the way.

  “Froughton is far too dangerous. I have nightmares about what lurks there. But then again, no one would suspect we’d go there.”

  “We could go north to the Ice Realm… to my mother’s people. That is, if we do not freeze along the way, what with winter coming. I’m sure they would welcome us.” Ideas and possibilities poured into Magnus’s mind. Yes—running was the only way.

  Catanya could not stand still. “Or we could go south, through the Corville Mountains. No one will ever suspect we’d gone that way.”

  Magnus chuckled, certain she was joking. Only mad men and gypsies travelled south of the realms. No normal man who ever travelled that way returned. The mountains were home to the black wyverns. These vile creatures were thrice the size of a Wardemeer—more like that of a young dragon. They had long fangs and poisonous barbed tails. Magnus had only ever seen them from afar, taking to the skies like giant bats above their mountainous turf. The caves beneath the mountains hosted creatures far worse. South of that was stuff of nightmares surely worse than Froughton Forest—the Southern Wastelands and the black city of Ba’rrat—home to the Quag clan.