Ice Dragon Tales

by Hurri Cosmo

Ha. And what would he ask? Who is that great looking man running around the woods of the castle kissing fair maidens? You see, dear brother, one of those fair maidens just happened to be me and I would really like to try those lips again. He laughed. What would Diagus say of his brother's sudden infatuation with a man that wasn't him?

  Still, he had never seen his rescuer before. But he never had dealt much with the blue bloods of any of the kingdoms, including many of his own, and there was no question that man was someone important. Joron could tell by the way he talked and carried himself and by the way Nochi, the head guard of King Aric Tamusi himself, immediately deferred to him when he gave the order to accompany Joron on his mission. And it was clear he didn't know him either, so he was not from Claymoor Doom. The man was not from Blade Rain, that he knew for sure. So who is he? If Joron had actually taken the time to attend a few of the royal functions, he may have recognized him. Again, he tended to be very busy and was usually never even invited to the balls and receptions anymore, and being second in line to the throne, he wasn't always missed.

  It didn't matter. He didn't care for such things anyway. He was actually happy he was not the crown prince. The only reason he was remotely regretting not being a part of that circle was the possibility if he had been he would now know the identity of his rescuer. But as attractive as that aspect was, that one and only thing would never have been enough anyway. He had gone his own way and for the most part, been totally allowed to. Having been able to go his own way had proven to be better for everyone.

  Because Joron had plans.

  Even as a young prince, Joron had great aspirations. He wanted to build great buildings. He spent hours in his room drawing and figuring and redrawing and refiguring to the point his sketches were burned in his brain. He had often redrawn them after a grueling day with his brother, whose endless taunts and insults would eventually make him cry. In those moments he would retreat to the safety of his pencils and paper. And as he grew, it still afforded him comfort from the outside world. Then the only time his drawings became something more than simply drawings was when he was catapulted into seeing firsthand the needs of his people.

  It had been a mistake. He intended to escape the castle unnoticed. Usually that was never a problem. No one ever watched him nor did anyone consider him any kind of threat or help. He had been raised simply as a "spare heir." But in moments of utter loneliness and isolation, it had been made crystal clear he had no business being in the castle, much less being in line for the throne. The queen never let him forget he was a bastard child. Sure, in front of the king, she would play the part of the mother, though she never allowed Joron to call her "Mother," dutifully making sure her little ones, even Joron, were taken care of. It was little more than ordering around her servants and mostly to "keep the brats out of sight." But every time it seemed to possibly matter to anyone in the room, she would take the pains of planting her cold, damp kiss on Joron's forehead. To this day, though it had been years now since he had to endure what ended up being a final kiss, he could still feel its clamminess and hear the sound of that smack, turning his stomach.

  But then he had stumbled onto that back door to the hall his father used to meet with the citizens. They came from all over the kingdom. Usually their needs were normal and simple. They came for seed for planting, equipment or labor, medicine or food. There was always a price and for the most part, Joron did not see a problem with that. He had heard his father was brutal and hard. But if he wasn't, the people would start simply relying on the royal family instead of their own hard work and determination. At the time, he truly believed his father's system was a good one. Stand up and walk on your own legs. If you rely on someone else's, you will fall. He grew up with that drummed into his head until it was his own opinion.

  Until the day that he stumbled onto that door.

  He wasn't going to stay. He realized immediately he was somewhere he should not be, witnessing something he should not witness, when he heard his father making a deal with a citizen, a deal for sex with the citizen's wife. The man was there because of a fire in his field or something like that--Joron had not caught those particular details--and evidently because of that fire, the man had nothing to bargain with, but if he didn't obtain help, they would starve. Then he heard his father tell the citizen since he couldn't pay, unless the king was able to spend the night with his wife, he could take no food. The man begged and implored, even cried for the king to take pity--all to no avail. He would never forget hearing his father's cold and unyielding tone, could hear him chuckling as he must have been touching the woman. She gave off little expletives until those horror-filled mumblings turned into begging to be left alone. The woman's tears and the wailing of a small child had been burned into his memory.

  Joron had quietly thrown up. He remembered castle servants simply showing up to clean up the mess. They tried to make him leave, but he refused. In fact, Joron came back to that spot, time and again, and slowly, as weeks turned into months and then years, Joron learned how to help his people, his citizens. He would never be king and that was fine. But he would never let them suffer again like the king, his own father, made that man, and his family, suffer. Word spread, but never back to his family. Or if it did, by the time it did, no one cared. But then his father's passions and appetite ruled his life and so he never minded what Joron did. The queen was too busy with her own obsessions to care much about Joron either. Even when Diagus left on his quest for carnal pleasures, they both still ignored him.

  That was fine with Joron.

  And now his father was dead. There was a new king on the throne. He hoped his brother would make a better king because if that were the case, Joron planned on showing him his plans.

  He wanted to turn his visions into buildings of healing all around the kingdom. That way people would not have to come all the way to the castle for medicines and treatment. So many times those who needed medical care needed it faster than such a trip would allow, sometimes not even surviving the journey.

  Again, due to the fact that cost was always an issue, most never even made the trip to the castle and relied instead on poorly skilled, self-proclaimed healers who were not much more than imposters who took more lives than they saved. So a big part of his dream was, as he built more and more infirmaries, they would have to have doctors and people to mix the medicines and people to take care of the sick and injured who were there for treatments. All of those people would need to be trained. He had thought long and hard about it and if he required them all to have papers that identified them as such, the people would have confidence in them and be sure they were not the charlatans that so plagued the land.

  He realized this dream was big and needed endless resources to make it all happen. Having ownership of the pass might be the opportunity he needed, provided, of course, he lived and his brother actually proved to be a decent king.

  Joron sank down in the water, submerging his whole head, coming up as his sister flew into the room. She stopped when she saw Joron in the tub. She was obviously upset.

  "I am so glad you're back," she cried out. "Do you want to know what happened?" Before she could say another word, she burst into tears.

  Shocked, Joron grabbed the towel that had been left for him and quickly climbed out of the tub.

  "Liarta. What? Please, calm down and tell me." He dried himself off as fast as he could, dashing to his parcel by the bed, rummaging through it to find something to wear.

  "He... he..." She was sobbing, barely able to catch her breath.

  Joron threw on a pair of pants and a tunic and went immediately to Liarta, leading her back to the bed to sit down. "Calm down. Calm down. You can't tell me if you can't talk." Sitting down beside her, he started rubbing her back as he took her into an embrace. "Tell me what's going on."

  "He promised me to the king of Claymoor Doooooom." She wailed and another wave of tears came over her as she buried her face into Joron's shoulder. "How could he do that?" Joron barely mad
e out the last part, since it was muffled and coming through sob after sob.

  "He did what?" Who wants her to marry King Aric? Father? Was that the reason for this king's visit after all? It couldn't be. "Wait. Something is not right, Liarta. That couldn't have been Father's thinking. If it had been he would never have given his consent for you to marry the duke. It...has to be something Diagus..."

  "I kno-o-ow. It is Diagus. He's getting back at me for walking in on the two of you." She continued to weep into his shirt.

  "He actually told you that?"

  She nodded against his shoulder.

  What was Diagus thinking? You didn't mess with those kinds of royal matters because someone in your family made you angry. "Don't worry." He continued to stroke her back. "I'll get to the bottom of this. Diagus, as stupid and selfish as he can seem to be sometimes, could not have meant this. He would be putting this kingdom in jeopardy if he made decisions like that and for such reasons. Let me talk to him and see if I can find out what really happened. Maybe King Aric doesn't know yet or if he does, he hasn't agreed. There is a customary time for refusal, given to all arranged marriages. You know that. Don't despair. For now, go to your room. Is the duke on his way? I understand the funeral is also tomorrow, which is another strange thing for Diagus to do. Do you know anything about that?"

  She sniffled and wiped at her eyes as she pulled herself away from Joron's shoulder. She laughed and also wiped at Joron's shirt, which held the evidence of her heavy tears. "I don't know why the funeral is tomorrow." She continued, "It's...it's as if they want to hurry and get him in the mausoleum or something. It was Mother who insisted it be done. It's very strange."

  Joron nodded. "Yes, it is. But it doesn't matter, I guess."

  "Oh, Joron! Are you sure you want to talk to Diagus after what he tried to do? I mean, he's mad at you, too, being he expected you to be in your room last night and once again, you weren't there. I know he has had his men tearing apart the castle looking for you."

  "Yes, I know. You're right. I'm not sure about Diagus if he's this upset. But I'll still talk to him. I will because this is important to you. Don't worry about me. I can handle him."

  She paled. "No, you can't. If I hadn't come in when I did he would have...he would have..."

  "Fine, fine, I'll bring Kinnabe. With someone else in the room, he'll probably leave me alone."

  "You don't sound too convincing."

  He looked at her and smiled. "Please don't worry. You have enough to worry about." Joron watched her face as it once again contorted into agony.

  "Please get him to take it ba-a-ack." She wailed, flew back into his arms again, and the tears started up fresh and new.

  "I will. I will. Give me today. I'll talk to Diagus, and before King Aric leaves, it'll be settled. Trust me." He gave her a hug and pushed her gently away. "Go back to your room and stay there. Deny anyone but me or Kinnabe to enter, okay?"

  "Why?"

  "Just...just do it. Not even your maids, okay?"

  "You think King Aric will send for me, don't you?" She was in a panic.

  "Yes, but if you stay in your room, keep your door locked, and don't open it to anyone, it shouldn't be a problem. He won't kidnap you, right? I think he's a good man--or that's what I've always heard."

  She nodded and rose from the bed, sniffing and breathing in hitches. "Okay. I'll leave it in your hands then." She leaned over and kissed Joron's forehead. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome. Remember, trust no one to enter but Kinnabe or me."

  She nodded again and hurried from the room.

  Joron sighed. Why would Diagus do something so dangerous? He had to know his sister was promised to the duke and you just didn't walk away from that kind of commitment without at the very least a negotiation. Joron was certain the bride price had to be decided on already as well. There was going to be hell to pay, and soon, because the duke was on his way and would be here tomorrow. Joron would talk to Diagus first. Maybe he could fix it by doing that. If it didn't work, he might have to approach King Aric, and they still needed to get through the funeral tomorrow.

  Stupid man.

  * * * *

  Diagus was sitting at his father's grand desk when the guard showed Joron and Kinnabe into the room. The desk dominated the space. Alongside of it was a huge bookcase that took up the entire length of wall and soared to the high ceiling. The books it held were the real treasure. Both Joron and Diagus had been allowed to take and read as many as they wanted. They often fought over certain titles. It was the one thing they had in common, although he had to admit Diagus's love of books bordered more on obsession. He had been grateful to his father, who never forbade them that luxury, because neither one of them could get enough.

  Behind the amazing bookcase and huge desk were large windows that looked out onto the back wall of the castle and a now overgrown garden. This part of the castle faced east and the only thing beyond that wall was swamp, quicksand, and nasty creatures. Heavy, navy velvet fabric fell from the crown of the windows and was pushed back toward the floor to allow the warm sunshine into the room. Still, Diagus, like his father, had more than enough light coming from numerous candles lining not only the desk, but also every flat surface, including the mantle that presided over a large fireplace on the opposite side of the room. In it was a roaring fire but somehow the warmth it was trying to emit never made it out into the space. And although the floors were covered in thick fabrics as well, the room remained cold. Diagus looked up with a smile that disappeared as quickly as it came when he saw Joron was not alone.

  "Well, brother, I am happy to see you have decided to come out of hiding and visit me, but why bring your keeper?"

  "I think you know the answer to that question."

  Diagus smirked and turned his attention to Kinnabe. "Why don't you wait outside the door with the rest of the guards while my brother and I have a talk." He winked at Kinnabe, who suddenly realized he was about to defy his king. He looked quickly at Joron.

  "He's not going anywhere. If he doesn't stay, then neither do I."

  Diagus rose from behind the desk, walking slowly around it toward the two who had stopped in the middle of the room. He moved his head slowly back and forth, watching the floor as he walked. He stopped about five feet in front of both of them and looked into Joron's face. "Joron, Joron, Joron. You continue to think you have choices in these things when you should realize you clearly do not. I am your king. If I tell your little shadow here to get lost then he gets lost. So I will say this once again. Kinnabe, get the hell out of here." His gaze went back to Kinnabe.

  Joron made him look back at him. "Diagus...King Diagus, I have come to discuss an urgent matter with you. Allow Kinnabe to stay until we're finished."

  Diagus was silent for a moment as he stared hard at Joron. "If I listen to your...matter, then he'll leave so we can discuss other things?"

  Joron swallowed hard. He heard the protests start from beside him as Kinnabe shifted on his feet, intending to put himself in front of Joron, as if that would somehow protect him. Joron, without looking at him, laid his hand softly on Kinnabe's arm, stopping him from advancing. "I am willing to have a discussion with you but..."

  With a sharp intake of breath, Kinnabe first pulled his arm away from the gentle hold Joron had on it and grabbed Joron, turning him to face him. "No! You know what his discussion will be. My prince, please, don't do this!"

  Joron smiled kindly up at Kinnabe, trying to convey he knew what he was doing. He put his hand on Kinnabe's. "Please don't worry. Let's get this done. All right?"

  "No."

  * * * *

  "Enough!" It was clear Diagus had finally won. He was not going to waste another moment. He could already feel his manhood reacting to this new turn of events. He was going to take full advantage of it. "What is this urgent matter so we can move on to more pleasant subjects?"

  Diagus raked Joron with his gaze. He could not get over how alluring his brother was. Just looking at him
made Diagus's entire body heat up. When he met Joron's eyes, he saw the color drain from Joron's face. He chuckled as he turned to walk back to his desk. Once again he sat behind it and watched Joron move gracefully forward to the chairs positioned in front of it, skinny, frowning Kinnabe following behind. After Joron sat, he expected Kinnabe to sit next to him in the other chair but he did not. He instead chose to stand behind him, his hands protectively on the back of the chair on either side of Joron's head.

  "I'll get right to the point," Joron started, his voice strong, his back straight. Diagus was actually impressed. "I understand from Liarta that you've promised her hand in marriage to King Aric Tamusi of Claymoor Doom. How could you do that, knowing she's already been promised to His Grace, Lord Kurk. Without negotiating it with him--and I know you couldn't have since the man is not here--this could be an incredibly bad move to make. Did you think about the consequences? Not to mention the fact you never discussed it with Liarta."

  Diagus was not prepared for how irritated he would feel hearing Joron defend their sister. "I'm the king, Joron. I don't have to discuss anything with anyone, especially our sister. She'll do as I decree. As far as His Grace, Lord Kurk is concerned, I'll give him back his bride price--which was pathetic to begin with--and a choice of any of our fair maidens. That should shut him up, right?" He leaned forward. "Besides, I'm his king as well."

  "No, Diagus, you know that won't work. First of all, a maid, even if she is fair, is certainly not the same as a princess. Second, and more important, they're in love. He will not be happy with this and may try to secede from the kingdom. His father's tried it before. You know that. His property is right up against the Thunder Wolf kingdom and that king is as crazy as they come. Like King Aric, he's gobbling up every piece of land he can get. Only the Thunder Wolf king has no intention of combining kingdoms for any benefit but his own. The duke will simply side with him and we could have a war on our hands, especially with as unhappy as our people have been for a very long time. You simply can't do this."