“Exactly, who are you?” Talila asked as politely as she could muster, stepping between the woman and Dracon.
“Where are my manners?” Lord Vette asked.
“Where are your manners, indeed?” Talila took two steps back from the three of them, closer to Dracon.
“This is the lord, Hiram Finney, and his wife, Lady Gidallia.” Lord Vette introduced the couple.
“That is an exquisite dress, take a look, my dear,” Lord Finney pointed at Talila’s dress, “There are no buttons or laces? It’s as though it was stitched directly onto her young, supple, body?”
The Lady Gidallia walked closer to Talila inspecting her dress.
“How on earth did you get this on?”
“I’m curious to see how it comes off, the going back on bit can wait til morning, eh, Cosik?” Lord Finney nudged Lord Vette.
“That’s enough now,” Lady Gidallia could see Talila and Dracon were about to take offense, “It’s their first time here, don’t scare them with our lechery just yet.”
“You’re right,” Lord Vette agreed, “Sometimes we forget ourselves, tonight is about pleasure, yours, ours, everyone’s. We take part in pleasures of all sorts here and you my dear are quite titillating.” Lord Vette looked at Dracon, “I’m sure you’ll catch the eye of some of the women who have exotic desires.”
“No doubt, I may have to watch him mount you, my dear, like a beast!” Lord Finney said to Lady Gidallia making her laugh.
“Do not be alarmed,” she said to Talila and Dracon, “Propositions will abound this evening, but you are the masters of your own desires, whether you say yes, or no, is entirely up to what pleases you.” She leaned closer to Talila, “If I had your youth and beauty, I would leave here tonight a very, very, rich woman. If you’re curious, I can point you in the direction of which lords have the most to offer for a taste of your delights? You can leave here with money and vouchers by the armloads.” Lady Gidallia returned to her husbands’ side, “Get them drinks, Cosik, help them relax.”
“But of course!” he exclaimed; an attendant hurried over with a tray of drinks.
Talila took a drink from the tray and handed it to Dracon, then took one for herself. Dracon held the glass to his lips but did not drink it, instead he took a deep inhale, smelling its aroma. He suddenly remembered Talila’s accusations of how he drank to excess, again, it made him furrow his brow in concern, wondering what she meant by it.
“Be a dear, Gidallia, take this gorgeous girl around, let her be entertained?” Lord Finney asked.
“But of course, my husband.” She walked over to Talila, grabbing her arm and pulling her reluctantly from Dracon.
“We should stay together.” Talila protested.
“Nonsense, my girl,” Lady Gidallia looked at Dracon, “You don’t smother her, do you? She can come breathe a little air with me? Spread her wings per se?”
Dracon smiled wide.
“I must warn you; she becomes a different woman when her wings unfurrow.”
Talila shot him a devilish smirk.
“How promising to hear.” Lord Vette licked his lips watching Talila, “Come, Lord Dracon, let us show you what entertainment the night has in store.” Lord Vette turned in the opposite direction of where Talila was ushered off to.
Dracon paused a moment watching Talila disappear into the crowds of people who had gathered around to watch, unbeknownst to Dracon. They watched him with wide smiles, as if they were all in on some secret, he was yet to be let in on. It made him curiously suspicious. He walked with the two men down a marble path that wound through the garden party. The entire area was lit up by floating orbs above their heads, Dracon didn’t notice until just then.
“It is quite fortunate that you have found your way here, a lord from another land most assuredly would be looking for an introduction to the emperor?” Lord Vette started.
“And you can provide such a thing?” Dracon asked.
“We,” Lord Finney added, “We can provide such a thing.”
“We are lords of these lands and oversee vast regions in the name of our emperor, some have travelled months to be here tonight, others, not so far.” Lord Vette explained, “I, serve his holiness closer to home and run the daily operations of Sibyl, the sister city to Ferranot, where the emperor resides.”
“Where is this city of yours?” Dracon asked, “How far from here?”
Lord Vette and Lord Finney gave each other a glance and Lord Finney chuckled.
“My dear friend, the city of Sibyl lies just outside my manor doors, there.” Lord Vette pointed to a manor barely visible in the distance, “Surely you noticed that you did not simply walk into a dead field and find this party within. No, you were brought here by magical means. You were several months out, and I just had to have her… your attendance at this event.” Lord Vette looked at Lord Finney then around at the other lords, “This is my garden, it is several acres of festivities and beyond my gates, the sister city Sibyl.”
“I was… we were transported from Rethland?” Dracon asked.
“I think you may have blown his mind, Cosik?” Lord Finney chuckled.
“I believe maybe you have?” Dracon asked trying to play the part of the dumb brute they took him for, “You can do magic?”
“Not me, my friend, Kazar, my house magician, he is the one who performs all of this.” Lord Vette waved his hand about, referencing the floating orbs of light throughout the garden, “Have you no magic where you are from? I’m told that lady of yours is a sorceress?”
“Yes,” Dracon said looking around at the lights above them, “Very powerful magic, when we need money, she makes it appear from behind my ear.” He said with all seriousness, the two lords erupted in laughter.
“What a simple-minded buffoon!” Lord Finney laughed, leaning closer to Lord Vette, trying to keep his voice down.
“Watch yourself, Hiram, he is a very large buffoon.” Lord Vette whispered, “A man with a scar like that is not one that should be taunted, not to his face, that is.”
Dracon watched the lights pretending not to hear the men.
“I imagine the lady keeps him around for what’s between his legs, not his ears.” Lord Finney chuckled then subdued his laughter.
“Lord Dracon,” Lord Vette snapped his fingers like he was getting the attention of a child staring up at the lights, “Come along, I have an activity you may find enjoyable.” Dracon looked at the two men confused, a look he forced on his face, then followed, “By the looks of you,” Lord Vette eyed Dracon’s scar, “I would guess you are a man bred for violence, how did you come by your lordship?”
“My father,” Dracon said after a few quiet steps giving the impression he was thinking very hard, “My father the king, he makes me a lord.”
“A king?” Lord Finney asked.
“Your father is a king?” Lord Vette asked.
“He was.” Dracon said as the three men walked along a stone path.
“You are a prince? That is very interesting. I think we may have much to discuss, Lord Dracon.” Lord Vette looked at Lord Finney in disbelief.
“Yes, I think the emperor will want an audience.” Lord Finney said.
“I’m not here for an audience, or to represent my father’s interests.” Dracon said as they arrived at a large area where men were fighting, and others were betting on the fights.
“Then why are you here?” Lord Vette asked.
“What are they doing?” Dracon asked pointing at the fighting men.
“Oh, those are men fighting in the name of their lords.” Lord Finney explained as they slowed their pace to watch. Dracon watched the men mesmerized. Lord Vette and Lord Finney exchanged glances as the fighting came to a lull with losers being dragged from the fighting areas.
“Do you like fighting, Lord Dracon?” Lord Vette asked.
“I do.” Dracon stared at the fighters as new matches were announced from the winners of the previous round.
“Are you interested
in betting… or participating?” Lord Finney looked at Lord Vette then back at Dracon, who was distracted by the event.
“Is it allowed?” Dracon looked at Lord Vette hopeful.
Lord Vette smiled very wide.
“It is not something we’ve ever had, but I’m sure we can accommodate a lord who wishes to participate, I think many of the lords would be impressed with your show of virility?”
“I agree,” Lord Finney said, “Boy, fetch the judge!”
A young man obeyed and ran out to the center of the four squares where the fighting was taking place, to a man who stood at its center, where the four corners met. The man followed the boy back to the three lords. It garnered the attention of other lords in the area.
“What is this about, Cosik?” a nearby lord asked.
“This lord, Lord Dracon, wishes to test his mettle against one of these men here.” Lord Finney announced.
“Lord Dracon, which of these men do you wish to challenge?” Lord Finney asked.
“That one,” Dracon said pointing at one man, “That one,” Dracon pointed at another man, “That one,” he said pointing at yet another, “That one.” He said pointing at the last man.
“You wish to try them all? One at a time?” Lord Vette asked.
“No, I think I’ll save some time and take them all at once.” Dracon said.
Lord Finney waved other lords over.
“Do you mean to take them all at the same time, did I hear you correctly?”
“I have two hundred and twenty gold, I’m sure Lord Vette can vouch for me, it is his money.” Dracon said, “Maybe he wants it back?”
“I’ll cover your bet. I’ll give you four to one, seeing that matches the odds your facing,” Lord Finney said, “Judge, we have a lord here who wishes to fight all the remaining competitors.”
“All?” the judge asked. Lord Finney looked at Dracon for confirmation. He nodded, “You understand what-”
“He knows already, lets proceed.” Lord Finney was excited to win Dracon’s money so easily.
The judge turned back to the remaining competitors and called them together, he explained what was going on. Each man was a house champion from the militia that served the lords from one region or another. Much like the beasts that fought to the death, these men also fought for the honor of their lord, but not to the death.
“You’re sure you wish to continue?” Lord Vette asked.
“I do.” Dracon walked out into the fighting area.
Word spread, and lords and ladies gathered around to watch. Dracon took off his shirt, to the delight of the women in the crowd, who were very vocal. After all, he was chiseled and muscular, unlike any of the lords at the party. He was covered in battle scars, those who were not close to him could not see. Dracon walked toward the fighters on the grass squares that served as fighting rings. One man rushed Dracon with his fists over his head, hoping to frighten the lord who had the stones to walk out and challenge real fighters. Dracon sidestepped the man, then punched him in the ribs with a hook that bent him over. Dracon grabbed the man by his hair and snapped his head back, then delivered a hammer fist to his face, exploding his nose and knocking him to the ground unconscious. The other three men were not so eager to rush in as their companion and spread out, surrounding Dracon. More guests gathered to watch after seeing Dracon dispatch the first fighter so quickly, he was a lord after all, and such a thing done himself was unheard of.
“They’ll be no repercussions for laying hands on a lord?” One of the men circling Dracon asked the judge, who in turn looked back at Lord Vette.
“Be sure not to kill him, but the lord assumes the risk of stepping into the arena and what follows. Should he have second thoughts, he should exit now.” Lord Vette announced, drawing even more partygoers to the edges of the makeshift grassy fighting arena.
Dracon said nothing and rolled his shoulders. The man he knocked out started to stir, moving after a barely audible moan. Dracon raised his fists in a fighting stance and crouched, readying himself for the fight ahead.
“We’ll try not to ugly that pretty face of yours any further, my lord.” One of the men said in a normal tone, only loud enough to be heard by the other fighters and Dracon, eliciting chuckles from the other men.
Dracon waved the man on.
“Come talk to me the Ganlin way.”
The man moved within striking distance and started swinging blows at Dracon. They traded punches, neither hitting the other with anything of substance that wasn’t blocked in return. Then Dracon switched his stance and dropped to one knee, punching the man in his kneecap, shattering it. He screamed out and pain and fell instantly, grabbing his leg and wailing. Before Dracon could return to his feet, one of the other two opponents kicked him between his shoulder blades sending him forward where the other still standing fighter met Dracon with a kick of his own to Dracon’s face. The crowd was in unison with their groans of surprise at the sudden, and devastating, two kick combination by the duo. Dracon lay on his side a moment, he felt nothing. It made him smile. He was unfazed by the hit, and unbloodied.
“Stay down, my lord, we don’t wish to harm you further.” One of the men said.
Dracon stood up quickly so he wouldn’t get hit as he stood, should they seek to take advantage of him on his way up. He smiled at the two men.
“Finish him!” A lord yelled from the spectators.
“Thirty gold to the one who knocks him out!” Yelled another.
The two fighters perked up at the offer and both moved in, trying to beat the other to Dracon. They pummeled him while Dracon raised his hands to protect his face instinctively. They weren’t hurting him, but he let them believe they were, grunting with each blow the men delivered. Inside, Dracon was ecstatic. He had always wondered what Venalina’s death meant for the abilities she granted him, at least he knew then, they remained. It exhilarated him. Dracon dipped to one knee and the men kicked and punched him, both trying desperately to be the one to take him out. The crowd roared, urging on the two men to beat the arrogant lord into submission. Dracon stood suddenly and grabbed the man nearest to his right arm by the throat then spun, slamming him into the other man, making their heads collide with a sickening thud that could be heard by the crowd who gathered to watch. He let go of the man’s throat and both fighters fell to the ground senseless. One man rolled back and forth, holding his head, and moaning, while the other lay unconscious. Dracon walked casually back to Lord Vette and Lord Finney retrieving his shirt and cloak on the way, dressing himself once again.
“That was impressive.” Lord Vette said still donning a surprised look on his face.
“That proves one thing,” Lord Finney said, making Lord Vette look at him, “He is exactly what he appears to be, a monster of a man.”
“Indeed,” Lord Vette said, “let’s limit any talk that might rile him, I don’t want to gamble whether or not the guards can reach us before he rips out our throats.”
“Agreed.” Lord Finney said hastily.
Lord Vette grabbed a drink off a tray from an attendant who shadowed them and handed it to Dracon as he stepped from the grass to the stone walkway.
“Well done, Lord Dracon, I have to say that was incredibly satisfying to watch, if her lady’s champion performs as well as you, I imagine you will leave here a rich man?”
“I will have your money to you directly, sir.” Lord Finney toasted Dracon with his glass.
“I am in no hurry, I haven’t any idea how I will return to where I came from, Rethland?” Dracon asked.
The three men laughed.
“The night is young, we have much to enjoy, and when it is over, there will be a carriage waiting for you in the very spot it dropped you off.” Lord Vette assured him.
On the other side of the path, opposite the fighting area, women were laughing. The three men turned to see jugglers and acrobats, performing in another grassy area, one man was breathing fire and wowing a crowd around him.
“You
really spared no expense, Cosik, the emperor will be jealous of this get together.” Lord Finney said.
“He was invited,” Lord Vette chuckled, “He’s always invited.”
“Does he ever attend?” Dracon asked before sipping his wine.
“Once, maybe twice a year, he hardly leaves his palace anymore.” Lord Finney said.
“Plans of world domination, of course.” Lord Vette followed up.
Dracon spotted Talila in the distance talking to a group of lords and ladies, she had them hanging on her every word. He wondered what she could be saying to them. Dracon watched her curiously, not really hearing the conversation Lord Vette and Lord Finney were having about the emperor. Talila was a true lady, even before he and Venalina whisked her away from her homeland. She knew these kinds of people and knew well how to interact with them, how to speak their language per se, the language of the rich and entitled. He considered that he should listen to her more than he had been. She deserved his respect and he would start giving it. He was hard on her since Venalina died and they were thrown into a land they did not know. He did blame her, not with his words, but his actions toward her. He felt a tinge of regret for how he had been treating her. As suddenly as he felt it, it disappeared, ‘no regrets’, he thought, ‘just course corrections.’
“Lord Dracon, come along, there are more interesting games for a man of your… skills.” Lord Vette said, again, calling him like he was speaking to a child.
Dracon took a drink of his wine then turned and followed the two men down the path. It was a carnival around them, off the path into the grass in almost every area of the garden there was something to entertain the lords and ladies in attendance. Some, simple games, others, complex, and yet others, vicious and cruel. Dracon could hear a crowd of people groaning and reacting to something ahead of them on the path. When they arrived, he could see three men tied to posts in a row, with their hands chained to the top of the posts. Two men were begging for mercy and apologizing for crimes of some sort, while one man was yelling at the crowd with disdain. A lady and a lord were standing at a line, some ten feet away from the men tied to posts. The lord was trying to guide the lady, who had a dagger in her hand. He was trying to give her instructions on how to aim and hold the dagger. The lady let fly the dagger, which flew awkwardly at the mouthy man, hitting him handle first in the forehead, making the crowd ah, with discontent that it did not stick in the man, blade first.
Dracon and the Edge of the World Page 12
