by Lisa Rector
There must be thousands, Aneirin said.
An army bred for destruction. Look at them. They’re hideous. Dirty skin, half-shaved heads. Spitting and gnawing at their food like dogs. Vile.
Aneirin laughed. This coming from a dragon.
They look like a bunch of animals.
It doesn’t matter what they look like. What matters is their purpose. Can we guess where he plans to march?
It would have but one purpose, Aneirin. One other mortal realm has yet to be conquered—Talfryn.
This is not good, Aneirin said, not good at all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HOPE AGAINST HOPE
Aneirin decided he would fly to Cynwrig and find out what King Sieffre knew or at least inform him of the developments in Rolant.
After returning from wandering around the village, Aneirin found Ahnalyn standing on the deck in the sun—her usual respite.
“Ahnalyn, how are you?” He stopped beside her. “How’s Einion?”
“We’re fine, thank you,” Ahnalyn said.
Do I detect a bit of hostility?
“I wanted to apologize about the night before. I realize I upset you. I forget this is new to you. It takes time to learn how to use light. I’ve been training since I was a little child. You shouldn’t compare yourself to me. Your skills will come with time.”
“It’s all right, Aneirin. You were overzealous to share what you know. I’m sorry for being rude this morning.”
“No offense has been taken. I did want to speak to you about an important matter.” Aneirin paused, tugging on a lock of his hair.
“Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“Cephias saw something while he was scouting. He still hasn’t located Seren,” Aneirin added when he saw Ahnalyn’s face brighten. “This is much worse than I could have anticipated. A considerable army is assembled in Rolant near the borders of the wilderness. I fear Caedryn has ill motives.”
“You mean he plans to attack Talfryn.”
“That would sound logical.”
Ahnalyn turned to Aneirin. “He has to be stopped. This cannot be allowed. Terrin has suffered too much at Caedryn’s hands. I don’t wish the same fate to befall Talfryn. King Sieffre must be warned. We must find a way to help.” A tight furrow had formed on Ahnalyn’s forehead.
“We will. I want to help. I can fly to Talfryn and warn the king. It’s on the way to Gorlassar. I should bring this to the attention of the High Council.”
Ahnalyn slowly paced around the deck, wringing her hands. “How will that help? From what you’re saying, they don’t care much about mortals. I thought we were tainted.”
Aneirin cringed. He should have never uttered those recklessly said words, which Ahnalyn would continue to guilt him over.
“I want to call the aid of the Dragon Riders.” Aneirin watched Ahnalyn’s hair swish over her shoulders. “Age-old traditions in Gorlassar need to change. I’m going to convince them.”
“How will that work? They didn’t want to come for me, remember.”
“Trust me, I won’t forget.” How could I? “They have never been outside the dragon realm. Now that I have, and I’ve seen the destruction going on here… I know we could help.”
Ahnalyn paused in her pacing and turned to Aneirin. “You think you have that much influence—the word of one man. Tell me, what are these emrys like? Why are the people of Gorlassar so set in their ways?”
“For thousands of years we have looked after the dragons. The species was nearly brought to extinction until the Master of Light saved the last egg, and he created the emrys—beings of pure light—to safeguard them. So you see. We’re forbidden to enter the mortal realms where the darkness dwells. A few have, much to the dismay of the immortals.”
“That doesn’t explain why you think they’d change their minds and help us.”
“I’m young, you have to understand, Ahnalyn, I might have lived for almost a hundred years, but I’ve observed their indifference. The peaceful, comfortable lives of the emrys don’t allow for growth—for refinement. The council sits in high seats and thinks the world is acceptable, but out here is suffering. They must see this. How can they allow such pain to go on? And what good are safeguarding the dragons if no one even learns of their beauty and majesty? It’s like hiding a precious gem in the dirt. No one ever sees it.”
Ahnalyn touched Aneirin’s forearm gently.
Aneirin tore his eyes off her glossy mane to look down at her slender fingers. Her touch charged his skin—like static before a storm—and his arm trembled beneath it.
Ahnalyn lifted her hand. Her face had taken on a rosy glow. “You have much passion, Aneirin. It amazes me. I truly hope you can convince them to help.”
“It’s my hope I will, if I give a convincing enough argument.” Aneirin’s nerves stirred, thinking about the confrontation to come, especially since the council didn’t agree with his reasons for coming to find Ahnalyn and especially since he’d been forbidden to leave Gorlassar. He hoped his face concealed any doubts.
I don’t know, Aneirin, you were never good at hiding your emotions, Cephias said.
Maybe to you and the other emrys, but you forget about Niawen. I hid my feelings from her so well that she was blindsided when she learned the truth. Luckily, Ahnalyn hasn’t picked up how to discern feelings in emrys.
Might want to keep her from learning. Wouldn’t want her able to discern your “tender”—
Stop right there. Don’t say it.
Har har. Never mind.
Ahnalyn was staring at him. “You became strangely still.”
“Cephias. Pestering.”
“Tell him, Seren is in a cave. Search the mountains.”
“You talked to Seren. When? Is she safe?”
“She’s fine. Last night. Before I found you with Einion on the deck.”
“Does she know what mountain range? The ridge behind us or the ridge in the south?”
Ahnalyn shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t know.”
Aneirin slapped the deck’s rail. “Confound it! This is taking too long. Cephias has been searching for over a week.”
“Now he can narrow it down. I bet it’s the mountains in the south. They couldn’t haul Seren through this dense forest to reach the Great Ridge.”
Aneirin gripped the rail with both his hands and stretched his arms out, gazing down at the ground.
“What’s bothering you, Aneirin? Do you resent rescuing me? Do you blame me for Seren’s capture?”
He looked up at her. “What, no. Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
Her green eyes narrowed. “Why am I so important to you?”
“What?” Why IS Ahnalyn so important to me? “Ahnalyn, you’re jumping to conclusions. I just don’t like to see anyone suffer. When Seren told me about you, I wasn’t going to leave you there as a prisoner.”
“Very well, so why does it seem like you’ll tear the rail off?”
Aneirin examined his knuckles. They were whiter than his usual pale skin. Feeling defeated, he released his grip and dropped his arms. How to tell her: they might be exiled for helping her. Aneirin was a Dragon Rider—a guardian. It was his sacred charge. If harm came to Seren, the stain would be on his soul. He decided not to burden Ahnalyn with the details, so Aneirin changed the topic.
“I plan to depart immediately. Cephias will arrive soon. I’ll stop in Talfryn and speak to King Sieffre. I’ll let him know of the growing army in Rolant and continue on to Gorlassar and convene the council.”
Ahnalyn was frowning over the fact that he evaded her question completely.
“I’m coming with you,” she said.
“Uh, no you’re not,” Aneirin said. “It’s barely been two weeks since you’ve had Einion—too soon for you to travel. I’ll return for you after I hold council. This way you’ll be fully recovered.”
“Who made you master over me?” Ahnalyn snapped.
The dark energy flared inside h
er, and Aneirin stepped back. Her state was too precarious.
“Since I’m Lady of Terrin,” Ahnalyn continued, “and married to King Sieffre’s nephew, I should come along. He would probably like to see Einion. I could convince the council in Gorlassar to assist us. You forget, as Lady of Terrin it’s my diplomatic duty to address another council when we call for aid.”
“Don’t you think it’d be too soon for Einion to fly? It’s cold up there. You’re still hurting. It’ll be a long flight taking most of the night. I’ll be back in about a week. By then you’ll be ready to fly. You need to trust I know what I’m doing. I want to help the people of this land as much as you do.”
Ahnalyn gaped at him.
Aneirin thought he was being reasonable, but given her flash of energy, he had the feeling Ahnalyn didn’t think so.
“I don’t remember inviting you to this conversation,” Ahnalyn huffed.
Aneirin started. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh, Seren thinks I should listen to you.”
“She’s right,” Aneirin said.
“Fine, have it your way!” Ahnalyn threw up her hands and stormed into the hut.
What did I do? Aneirin asked.
Denied a woman who’s had everything ripped from her life the one undertaking she could manage, Cephias replied.
I love how you’re always a help.
Me too.
***
Cephias arrived shortly, and Aneirin left without saying goodbye to Ahnalyn. She stayed with Emlyn and Hadyn and didn’t emerge from the hut during the commotion of Cephias’s touchdown and lift-off. Cephias flew south: several hours over the eastern side of the Great Forest, over the mountain ridge bordering Rolant and Talfryn, across the Great River, and over the highland plains. They landed in Cynwrig, Talfryn’s capital, at daybreak.
For such a huge dragon (his wingspan three times Aneirin’s height) Cephias zipped fluidly to his destination. He was graceful when he wanted to be, and when he wanted, he could be fierce and dangerous. When he was just over four hundred years old, Cephias chose Aneirin as his Dragon Rider. After Aneirin was born, Cephias was instantly drawn to him. The connection was different for each rider and dragon with no way to adequately describe it, but Cephias knew. Aneirin was the rider for him.
And as composed as Cephias was, Aneirin knew he hid a vast amount of concern for Seren. After nearly half a millennium in the dragon realm, Cephias had been thrilled to be on a quest as they left. The ride to Ahnalyn’s rescue was exhilarating for all of them, and Cephias joked about being a hero. Now his anxiety over Seren had peaked. Aneirin thought this might have been one of the reasons why he’d become so emotional earlier. Cephias’s feelings eventually washed into him at some point or another. It was like sharing two souls in one body. Aneirin could take off his dragon stone and break the connection. Dragon Riders did this in the beginning as they grew used to the bond. But to break the bond now would leave Aneirin too quiet inside. He’d be missing half of himself. Because of this, Aneirin knew exactly how Cephias loved his mate.
Cephias trusted Aneirin when he said to leave Seren behind. Aneirin hoped Caedryn understood that nothing was gained by killing a dragon. They were powerful allies, powerful creatures. Caedryn would want Seren alive. So for now, Seren should be safe.
From miles away, Cephias saw the capital. Though the sky was dusky and the sun not yet below the horizon, the capital couldn’t be missed with its white, pointed turrets reflecting on a massive lake that could be its own sea.
See there, the palace courtyard. We should land outside it. A long time has past since Sieffre and his people have seen a dragon, and they might raise an alarm. Aneirin was referring to Seren. She had been here once, with Niawen. Since that one visit, no other dragons had come to Cynwrig, so the people would be unfamiliar with them. Be prepared in case they attack. I’ll hold a shield up if need be. Don’t try any funny business that would be unwelcome.
As usual, you’re the picture of excitement, Cephias said.
They started descent into Cynwrig. The courtyard became astir of people. Men ran for cover, dragging screaming women, and other men nocked bows, preparing to fight.
Great early-morning surprise for the unsuspecting citizens, Aneirin said.
Ha! Bows, useless against dragons. Cephias cackled. Like throwing straw at rock!
They landed outside the gate, and in spite of what Aneirin asked, Cephias made a good show. He puffed up his wings as enormous as possible and flashed them a wicked grin. Aneirin projected an invisible shield of light over Cephias and himself. If an arrow were loosed, it wouldn’t penetrate. Men had gathered around them with spears and drawn bows.
Aneirin leapt down and held his hands up. “I am Aneirin of the emrys and this is Cephias, Dragon Lord. We’re friends. You had occasion once to meet an emrys. I pray you remember her kind nature. I beseech you. Hear me now. We come with urgent news and desire to see your king.”
The men looked astonished.
Courageous, one man stepped forward and bowed. “I’m Cadfan, His Majesty’s Master Guardsman. I remember well, this young woman who came to us many years ago. His Majesty would be delighted to grant you an audience, Your Lordship.” Cadfan paused. “What can we do for Your Lordship’s dragon?”
Cephias spoke, his booming voice echoing in the sky. “Do not trouble yourselves, young masters. I shall find a nice vale and pick up a few sumptuous maidens before I rest in a cave for the interim.”
The men whitened.
“Har har! Relax, I mean you no harm. Just a little dragon humor.” To terrorize the men, he leapt into the air and with a whoosh of his wings, blew a bunch of them over as he flew away.
Aneirin rolled his eyes and silently let Cephias know he’d somehow return his little jest. “Pay no mind to Cephias. He likes to have a good time. He’s a noble dragon and wouldn’t hurt a fly, though maybe a nice plump deer.”
Cadfan smiled. “Sure, right this way, Your Lordship.”
***
King Sieffre was a strong, gentle old man with blond hair and a full beard peppered with white. His kind eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed, and navy blue robes flowed around him as he sat on his throne.
Aneirin knelt on one knee and bowed his head. King Sieffre rose and spoke first.
“No, my young emrys, do not bow to me. I understand the majesty that flows inside you. It has been many long years since I last laid eyes on an emrys. You grace us with your presence.” The king bowed to Aneirin.
Aneirin rose. “Your Majesty, I thank you for your greeting. I hope my dragon didn’t cause too much alarm. He’s a gentle and loving but playful creature.” He made sure Cephias was paying attention to this comment.
King Sieffre continued. “Oh, not at all. Our court does remember a dragon and her rider. But oh, Niawen was a treasure. Imagine my surprise when my nephew wanted to marry her daughter. I had hoped Niawen would marry one of my sons. Forgive me for speaking of a delicate subject. She admitted that her heart had been broken, and she wanted more time to heal.”
Aneirin’s spine ran cold at the mention of Niawen’s broken heart. He had been the cause of this. Something else Sieffre said had caught his attention. “You mean Brenin—your nephew—Ahnalyn’s late husband. Did he know she was an emrys?”
“You must understand, when Niawen came here to this palace, Brenin was four years old and visiting here as well. He met her and learned what she was. Niawen displayed her talents meekly at first, but then without restraint. Brenin was fascinated by her. She left an impression on his youthful mind. And her dragon was a curiosity. She was well loved by the people.”
“She stayed with you for several months?”
“Yes, she did, but she wanted to move on. Her soul was restless, and she was still broken when she left.”
Aneirin froze. Brenin knew Ahnalyn was a half-emrys. Did she know her late husband kept this secret from her? Was this why she was so indignant? Aneirin crumbled inside. If Brenin never told
his wife who she was, could this be why he sought Ahnalyn out to marry her—because she was an emrys? If their marriage was based solely on this, it would crush Ahnalyn.
“Lord Aneirin?” Sieffre waved his hand in Aneirin’s face. “Please, come. Sit. Let’s eat. I’m famished. Breakfast is on the table in the hall. You can tell me about this urgent business, which has caused you to leave the dragon realm, while I’m enjoying a juicy sausage.”
Breakfast was a filling variety of meats, fruits, and pastries. The king’s high advisors joined them. They were older men who fondly remembered Niawen and Seren.
Aneirin told the king about Ahnalyn’s rescue, Seren’s capture, and Lord Caedryn’s involvement. “Are you aware he’s massing a great army in Rolant? I wonder if you’ve received any intelligence on the matter. My concern is your kingdom might be his objective.”
Sieffre dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Yes, this is distressing news indeed. Information travels slowly among the realms. We’ve known of his units near the Great Forest, but not in Rolant. I have reliable scouts and spies, but I fear they haven’t yet reached the palace. What a great benefit to have a dragon to quickly travel vast distances. I’m sure my spies are headed this way with the same information. They know shortcuts over the mountain range into Rolant. The ways are treacherous and secret, and few know them, but it still takes many weeks to travel them.” King Sieffre slouched back into his chair, weary lines creasing his forehead.
“If we stopped his army, Caedryn would be weakened enough that we could take back Terrin,” Aneirin said. “Ahnalyn wishes to help her people. She has not forgotten them throughout her distress and imprisonment.”
King Sieffre frowned. “I had no idea she was taken captive. My heart breaks, wishing that I could have rescued her and prevented this. We sent a second round of reinforcements to aid Hyledd when Gethen attacked, but I’m afraid they were killed. An ambush waited to attack them on the highway to the city. Gethen’s men fight with ferocity. News never reached me of Ahnalyn’s capture. We had to fall back and strengthen the defenses at the lower gap. Caedryn didn’t come for an attack yet, but we’ll remain on guard.”
