Master at Arms (Dragon Knights)

by Bianca D'Arc

  “Sir Thorn.” Tristan greeted the knight.

  Thorn nodded. “Master Tristan.”

  Both men lowered their arms from around her, leaving her to sway slightly on her own feet. She steadied and then the men moved exactly one step away from her at the same time as if by some unspoken agreement. She noticed they didn’t look at her, but kept their gazes locked on each other, a measuring look on each chiseled face.

  Thorn had luscious light brown—almost golden—eyes that usually looked at her with warm amusement. They were speculative now, with a hard glint of anger. She could only guess at the challenge in Tristan’s sky blue eyes. She’d seen him wither the keep’s men at arms with a single glance and she had no doubt he was causing Thorn’s strange reaction now. That had to be why they were eyeing each other over her shoulder. Simple male posturing. Right?

  Then why did it feel like something altogether more thrilling? Cara had never been one to get excited by the idea of men fighting over her, and she wasn’t about to start now, but there was something about this situation that made her little, female heart skip a beat.

  “I’m sorry my arrival took you by surprise. I hope I’m not interrupting.” Thorn looked down at her, speculation lighting his warm golden gaze.

  “Master Tristan was helping me put the burn jelly salve on Sir Rath’s wounds.” She bent to retrieve the heavy crock which had landed slightly tilted in the pine boughs but thankfully had not broken or spilled any of its slippery contents.

  Thorn looked from the crock to the dragon, then shot another undecipherable look at Tristan before turning back to her. She had no idea how to interpret his gaze. Was he upset? Was he amused? Angry? She really couldn’t figure him out.

  “We came to check on Rath and keep him company. My dragon partner, Lady Sharlis, wanted to see for herself how he was faring.” Thorn stepped back and only then did Cara notice the female dragon who stood just outside the entrance.

  Where Rath’s scales were a pale, glimmering silver in color, the dragoness was a gleaming red, like the deepest embers of a flame. They made a striking pair together, though Rath was slightly larger. In fact, come to think of it, he seemed slightly larger than most of the dragons Cara had seen.

  The dragoness craned her long neck through the curtain opening to twine slightly with Rath’s. It was clear to Cara that the dragons were sharing a moment of greeting that went beyond mere friendship. They were in love. She could feel it in the air all around them and see it in the caring motions of the dragon’s necks, smooth scales sliding against each other in a gentle caress.

  “Let’s give them a minute,” Cara suggested, moving toward the entrance. She turned and fled, hoping the men would follow.

  Sure enough, when she looked behind her, the two warriors were following a few paces behind. Neither of them made any noise. They were almost cat-like in their unconscious stealth, which impressed her. She’d tried to learn the art of moving silently when she learned swordwork and self-defense, but she wasn’t a master of stealth by any means.

  She walked to the nearby well and set the heavy crock down on top of a barrel that served as a tabletop. There were a few barrels of varying size ranged around the well, set in a semi-circle. She sat on top of one that was just the right height for sitting and waited for the men to catch up.

  Tristan went straight to the well and began pulling up a bucket of water. He offered the cool refreshment to Cara and Thorn using the metal cup he’d found among the spare utensils and implements that sat in another bucket. The men didn’t speak, which unnerved Cara a bit. What were they thinking? Were they still sizing each other up, thinking one or the other might be a threat to her in some way?

  “I thought mated dragons had to have knights before they could be together,” Cara asked Sir Thorn. She’d said the first thing she could think of to break the silence.

  He sat atop a barrel near her and seemed to ponder her question before answering.

  “Both dragons need knights and those knights need a wife before the dragons can consummate their bond. But both Sharlis and Rath are older dragons. They have been mates for centuries and have several offspring and grown grandchildren,” he explained. “They have not been able to actually mate in several decades, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still love each other and long for the day they can be together again.”

  “But why? If they love each other…” Cara trailed off. She was probably being too outspoken—something her brother constantly chided her for.

  “Because a knight’s bond with his dragon partner is soul-deep. What one experiences, the other feels to a lesser extent. When the dragons mate, their knights feel it too.” He shifted on his seat as if uncomfortable. “If the knights do not have a true mate with which to express the same kind of soul-deep love, it can drive them to insanity. That is why it is forbidden for the dragons to mate until the family unit is complete.”

  “Two knights and one woman? That is the normal family unit in your Lairs?” Tristan asked, seeming somewhat intrigued by the idea.

  Thorn nodded slowly. “Two knights usually marry one woman, yes, but the family unit includes the dragons. Two sets of mates—one dragonish and one human. Five people living and working together, raising their offspring together. The dragons are second parents to the human children as the knights and their lady are to the dragonets. It is a beautiful arrangement that has worked well for fighting dragons and knights—and their ladies—for millennia here in Draconia. Since the time of Draneth the Wise.”

  “But why only one woman for two men? Are there ever times when each knight has a wife of their own?” Tristan wanted to know.

  “It is rare for a woman to be able to live among dragonkind,” Thorn explained. “Rarer still for a woman to have the gift of speech with our dragon partners. Some knights never find their mate and their dragons cannot consummate their bonds for centuries. It is sad, but an unfortunate reality for some of our number.”

  Silence reigned for a moment as they all seemed to ponder Sir Thorn’s quiet words. Cara felt bad for those men who would never know the joy of sharing love with a partner. And the dragons that would have to wait so long before circumstances allowed them to join together in a mating flight.

  “Lady Cara can hear Sir Rath when he speaks,” Tristan said quietly. Shockingly.

  Cara recalled what Sir Thorn had said about it being rare to be able to speak with dragons. She’d never been so close to a dragon before today. She hadn’t really thought about what her being able to hear him might mean. What it could mean for her future.

  Possibilities were opening up in her mind that gave her hope for the future for the first time since her father had fallen. Perhaps there was some way she could serve in one of the Lairs. Even if she didn’t find a husband—or two!—among the knights, she still had skills that could prove useful to a Lair. If Envard continued to trouble her, she could always run away to the Border Lair and offer her services.

  Sir Thorn’s reaction to Tristan’s hushed words was remarkable. He grew perfectly still except for his eyes. His gaze went from her to Tristan and back again with renewed suspicion but much less hostility. Instead, there was a sort of hopeful eagerness to the set of his broad shoulders that confused her. Maybe she wasn’t reading him right. She didn’t know him that well, after all.

  “How do you know Lady Cara can hear Rath?” Thorn asked Tristan in a carefully modulated tone.

  “He said so,” Tristan answered as if it were obvious.

  “And you heard him speak as well?” Thorn’s gaze narrowed on Tristan as a strangely eager smile began to form at the corner of his mouth.

  Tristan seemed to catch on to the knight’s change in mood.

  “It really is an oddity, then? Sir Rath said as much, but it is something most of my family is able to do.”

  “Talk to dragons?” Thorn seemed surprised.

  “Not dragons, but small creatures in Elderland that seem to speak in the same way.”

  “Leave
off for now, Thorn,” came Rath’s deep voice in all their minds. “I have already settled the matter. Both Lady Cara and her Master at Arms can communicate with dragonkind.” He paused as all three humans turned to look at the dragons across the open space of the yard. The two dragons sat side by side now, both squeezed into the small enclosure that was just big enough for them. “Raises some interesting possibilities, does it not?”

  “Indeed.” Thorn rose from his seated position and offered a hand to Cara. She took it and allowed him to escort her back to the dragons. “Lady Cara, this is my dragon partner, Lady Sharlis.”

  He made the introduction as Cara bowed to the seated dragoness, holding her gaze in respect, as was only polite. “It is an honor to meet you, Lady Sharlis.”

  “The honor is mine, Lady Cara,” the dragoness answered in her mind. Her voice was slightly different than Rath’s. More feminine in some way, or maybe Cara was letting her imagination run wild. “Thank you for helping Golgorath and for constructing this fine shelter for him.” The dragoness cocked her large head so she could look from the curtained entryway to the heavy canvas ceiling. “This arrangement shows you put great thought into his comfort and for that I thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Cara answered softly, feeling the true joy of having the dragoness’s approval. It meant more than she could say. “If there is anything else I can do to make his stay more comfortable, please do not hesitate to ask. The resources of the keep—such as they are—are at his disposal.”

  “I could use more salve on my wing joint,” Rath’s voice reminded her. A smoky chuckle accompanied his words. “It was just starting to penetrate when you left off.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry!” Cara looked around for the crock she had placed on the barrel by the well, but Tristan had it in one of his big hands. He’d apparently had the presence of mind to bring it with them when they walked back to the dragon enclosure.

  Cara tried to take the crock from him, but he gestured instead for her to precede him back into the enclosure. It was a much tighter squeeze now with two dragons taking up the space she’d intended for one, but she managed to get back in position behind Rath’s wing.

  She heard a bit of jostling behind her and realized both men were trying to fit into the limited space to assist her. Both of them were large—too large to fit in here with her and two full-grown dragons. Cara rolled her eyes, wondering why they would nearly come to blows over something so mundane, but the dragons stepped in and put an end to it.

  “Thorn, be gracious. Let the outlander help her. Otherwise my poor Rath will suffer all night with no salve on his wounds.” Lady Sharlis’s voice in Cara’s mind sounded wryly amused.

  Sir Thorn gave in, but not entirely graciously. He leaned back against the tall pole that held up the canvas roof at the corner of the enclosure and watched as Tristan wrapped his hands around her waist and hoisted her halfway up the dragon’s back once more. She thought maybe she only imagined that Tristan’s hands stayed on her backside a bit longer this time.

  Chapter Six

  Thorn came straight out and asked his dragon partner the question burning a hole in his mind. “Shar, is Rath thinking of making this outlander a knight by any chance?”

  He was careful to do it in the privacy of only his and the female dragon’s minds. Nobody else was able to eavesdrop on the incredibly tight bond between their two souls.

  “Even you have to admit, it would be the perfect solution,” she replied, one jewel-like eye blinking lazily as she watched the two humans see to her mate’s wounds. “Do you like the girl? She seems nice. And has some backbone despite the fact she was raised as a keep lady. Rath says she rides to battle with her soldiers and fights alongside them from horseback with spear and sword. She has some skill, he told me. And is smart enough to realize she is not and should not be a leader of men. She defers to the Master at Arms, allowing him to lead the battle charge and defensive strategy. He commands on the field of battle, not she, despite her higher social rank. She does not seem to stand on ceremony, and unlike many silly girls raised in these cloistered keeps, she does not seem to have an overinflated opinion of her own worth.”

  “That’s a lot of observation, Shar, but to answer your question, I do like her. A great deal, as a matter of fact.” Thorn could not keep his eyes from the small human woman tending to the huge dragon. “You probably noticed that I volunteered to come to this keep more than any other. It’s not just because I have some suspicions about the young lord. I admit, it was to see Lady Cara, even if nothing could ever come of it.”

  “But it appears now that something could definitely come of your attraction to the girl. She can hear us when we speak to her, Thorn. You know how rare that is.” Sharlis blinked, casting her gaze on Thorn and then back to Lady Cara. “If you do not see the hand of the Mother of All in this, then you are being deliberately dense. You are attracted to her. And she is attracted to you too, if the way she was stammering and blushing is any indication. Plus, there is this startling outlander…” Shar’s voice trailed off as she moved her gaze to the man standing so close—too close—behind Lady Cara.

  “Is he truly worthy of being Rath’s knight?” That was the crux of the matter. If Tristan was not pure of heart and strong of character, this arrangement would never work.

  “Rath is beginning to believe so, though he will probably observe the man further before making the decision. You must remember what happened last time. My mate is perhaps overly cautious, but I do not blame him. The pain of losing one’s knight is not something I can explain in words. I have felt it myself, and I do not wish that agony on my beloved again too soon.”

  Only rarely did the dragoness speak to him of the knights that had come before him. Sharlis had lived for many centuries already. She was a seasoned veteran and one of the wisest beings Thorn knew. She was the sister to his soul—an older, wiser sister who shared both her laughter and her experience with him in the here and now. She did not dwell on the past, though of course everyone in the Lair knew the story of poor Faedric and Rath’s grief over his loss.

  “How can Rath think to put such faith in a warrior who was not born in this land? From everything I have heard, this Tristan is new here. He has no loyalty to us—dragon or human. How can that work? How can he be a knight to dedicate his life to defending Draconia?”

  “Sometimes it is enough to dedicate one’s life to defending the innocent and the true—those who are firmly on the side of light and life, and goodness, and what is right. These are the qualities my mate is beginning to see in this warrior. Although he may have been born in a strange land, he’s a good man.” Shar blinked and settled her gaze on Tristan again. “Rath was telling me a little bit about why Tristan left his homeland. I will not betray confidences, but I will say that he is much more than he seems. More than he even believes of himself.”

  Thorn was impressed. “Rath got that much from a single battle and a few words spoken between them this day?”

  “When something is meant to be, youngster, you will find that things can fall together into place quickly and with little fuss. Not everything in life has to be a struggle. Sometimes the best things in life come to us easily. It is for us to accept the goodness that comes when we least expect it and recognize the opportunities when they present themselves—for they seldom come again. Much of the quality of our lives is all about timing.”

  Thorn thought about the dragoness’s words for a long moment as he watched Lady Cara finish with the worst of the wounds on one wing joint, then move on to the less serious venom burns. Tristan’s hands and body held her in place and he did not imagine the tingle of attraction in the air between them. She was drawn to the outlander and he to her. Thorn didn’t know whether to be jealous or content.

  “They say he is quite a warrior,” Thorn offered, hoping to rekindle the conversation and willing to listen to his fighting partner’s sage advice. “I’ve heard more than one man say that Tristan is the best Master at Arms th
is keep has seen in many a year. They seem to universally respect him, which is rare when an outsider comes in to take over an established group.”

  “True,” the dragoness agreed. “But even the dragons are talking about his actions on the field of battle today. Rath may just owe the Master at Arms his life. The creature that bestowed those terrible burns could easily have done much more damage had not Master Tristan intervened.”

  “Did he really kill a skith all by himself? Did you get the story from Rath?”

  “Oh, he did it all right. In a most unconventional manner. Rath told me that Tristan climbed on top of the skith and sank one of his swords right into the creature’s puny brain.”

  “That must have been a sight to see.” Thorn kept the whistle of admiration to himself.

  “Of that I have no doubt. The fact is, we all owe him a debt of gratitude for his actions today.”

  “Making him a knight goes far beyond gratitude, Shar.” The skepticism in his tone could not be hidden from his fighting partner.

  Smoky circles of her amusement drifted toward the heavy canvas ceiling far above. Tristan and Lady Cara didn’t seem to notice. They were too wrapped up in each other. Or perhaps that was Thorn’s jaded opinion. Perhaps the lady was concentrating on helping her over-large patient, but there was no doubt in Thorn’s mind that Tristan’s thoughts were firmly on the softly rounded backside presented so appealingly, right in front of his face.

  “Time will tell what, if anything, Master Tristan is destined to become. If I were a betting dragon, my money would be on him, though. This situation smacks of the Goddess’s involvement. I have seen it many times before in my centuries. The Mother of All has a great deal to do with affairs of the heart and family bonds in the Lairs of Draconia.”

  Thorn kept his thoughts about Cara’s noble family carefully to himself. He had an inkling that not everything was as it should be between her and her brother. He hadn’t liked the way Envard treated her, even in the presence of visitors. Something was seriously wrong there and Thorn had been quietly trying to discover exactly what it was for some time, to no avail.