Lyric's Curse (Dragonblood Sagas Book 1)

by Wideman, Robyn

  34

  “MR. GAINES, MR. FINCH WOULD like to speak with you,” said Howard.

  Braylon followed the servant into Layton’s bedroom. The old man looked worse than he had the last time Braylon had seen him. “You’re looking better, old friend,” said Braylon as he walked up to the bed.

  “Liar,” said Layton Finch between rough coughs. “I look like I could die at any minute, and you know it.”

  Braylon gave him a weak smile. It was true. Despite the bed being covered in furs and a fire roaring, Layton Finch looked cold, like his body had given up trying to absorb heat.

  “It’s of no matter. I’ve known for a while now that I’m dying. Ever since it was discovered that my favorite tea was being poisoned.”

  Braylon raised an eyebrow at the revelation. Poisoning royals was a serious offense and indicated that a traitor was among Layton’s people. Not an accusation to take lightly.

  “I often wondered if it was your doing,” said Layton. “I thought my daughter might be getting over-eager to begin her quest to become queen.”

  “That’s a ridiculous and outrageous thing to say,” said Braylon in loud protest. “I’ve never given you cause to consider such a thing.”

  “Is it?” asked Layton. “I’ve known for some time of your secret rendezvous and my daughters long term ambitions. I might be an old man dying in his bed, but I still have ears everywhere. That you both thought different shows just how ready to rule she isn’t. But with the return of the Sacred Brotherhood, the answer to who would poison a dying man was answered.”

  Braylon looked at his old friend in shock. Layton knew of him and Shayla and had done nothing? Even when he thought Braylon might have poisoned him? Braylon thanked his lucky stars that the old man was diligent in finding out his secrets. A little less patience on the old man’s behalf would likely cost Braylon his life if he’d decided to remove potential sources of betrayal without waiting to find out who the culprit was.

  “I don’t blame you for loving my daughter, Braylon, she is a beautiful creature. Dangerous and untrustworthy, but beautiful, intelligent, and charming when she wants to be. No, I don’t blame you at all. Although I wasn't pleased to hear about your recent trip to Droll Isle. If you had any luck finding my son, you would be dead right now. Since neither you or Salus could find the lad, I have no more time to wait in hopes that he might be a better person than my daughter.” Layton coughed some more before continuing. “When the Brotherhood kidnapped my daughter, I thought all was lost. All my research, all my hopes for the future of our people. Now you’ve brought her back. So once again we have hope. It might be a foolish old man’s hope that his daughter can change but it’s all I have left.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Braylon with all honesty. Layton Finch’s words make little sense.

  “You will,” replied Layton. “Braylon, you need to understand this. Dragons are going to return to our lands. They will return to Droll Isle, and they will return to Partha. There will be dragons that want to kill every human they find in retaliation for the dragon wars that sent them away. There will also be people like the Sacred Brotherhood who want every dragon killed. It will be a long and messy war. One that humans will probably not win. The Brotherhood might have started the wars but it was the mages who truly hunted and killed the dragons. The mages of today don’t have the knowledge of dragons that our forefathers have. Dragons will have a decided advantage in any war despite the fervor of the Brotherhood and their allies. The only way for humans to survive is a truce. The only way for a truce is for a dragonblood to bond with a dragon and convince the dragon to talk to other dragons on our behalf. Dragons and humans shared the same lands for thousands of years before the dragon wars. It could be that way again if the extremists on both sides can be stopped.”

  Braylon nodded as Layton talked. The more Layton explained the situation, the more Braylon realized why he had sent for his son. Shayla would make a great ruler one day but even Braylon could see that her thirst for power would make it impossible for her to be a voice of reason. Shayla intended to use the dragons to help her rule, not to create peace. “Is that why you never told Shayla where your ring is?”

  Layton gave a dry wheezing laugh. “The rings are a myth. There are no rings that give humans powers over dragons.”

  Braylon frowned, “But the legends say different.”

  “The legends were created to trick the Brotherhood. The truth is that the old dragon mages never controlled their dragons. They were bonded to them, yes, but they never had power over the dragon. Each dragon supported their bonded dragonblood by choice. Many dragonblood mages tried to push the boundaries of that magical bond but ultimately they all failed. The only way to get a dragon to do your bidding is to appeal to its logic.”

  “So Shayla’s quest is foolish,” said Braylon.

  “Overly ambitious with some faulty logic, but perhaps not foolish. It is possible for Shayla to be a queen, she has bloodlines and there will be upheaval in the lands but it doesn’t matter. What is important is that she is one of the few people in this world who can bond with a dragon. She could be one of the only hopes we have at peace between dragons and humans.”

  “No wonder you started searching for your bastard. That is much to ask of someone as ambitious as Shayla.”

  “I fear it might not matter. Between vengeance seeking dragons and zealots like the Sacred Blood Brotherhood, I fear a war is inevitable. But we must try.”

  “Why are you telling me this instead of her?” asked Braylon.

  “You are her chosen one. She was smart enough to see past your reputation and know that your loyalty to her was unbreakable. It shows my daughter has intelligence. Now what she needs is a voice she trusts guiding her through the tough times ahead. The torture she went through is only the beginning. The brotherhood will never stop until she is dead. There will also be dragons that will hunt her to prevent her from forming a bond with other dragons. She will need you to protect her, even when she gains her powers. Shayla and my bastard son will be two of the most hunted people in the world. Zealots and dragons will hunt them. You must protect Shayla and convince her to try be a voice for peace.”

  Braylon took a deep breath. What had he gotten into? Why did he have to love the most dangerous woman in the world? “I will do what I can.”

  “Best of luck, son, you’ll need it. Now go see to my daughter. I need to sleep now. I will need more energy for when I tell her all this.”

  Braylon smiled. The old man, even on his death bed, still had a sense of humor. “I will check on her right now.”

  …

  Shayla woke in the comforts of her own bed. Her body was numb but warm, an effect of powerful painkillers and sedatives, no doubt her father had sent for a healer from Riversend. For that she was very thankful. The pain she had endured at the hands of the Sacred Blood Brotherhood would stay with her a lifetime. For days, she had been semiconscious and feverish. The healer had given her powerful herbs and medicines to stave off infection, and to ease the suffering she would surely still have. Magic filled salves helped heal the scars and scabs formed by the wicked tip of the whip which was used on her. The Brotherhood were experts at torture and had been well into their routines when Braylon arrived and rescued her.

  “You’re awake,” said Braylon with a smile as he entered her room.

  “Indeed I am,” replied Shayla. “How long have I been home?”

  “It’s been two days since we returned. You were in need of rest. Your body has endured much lately.”

  “That may be the understatement of the century. I’ve endured Hell. Nothing could prepare me for the Brotherhood. They are sick and demented. I’ve never even had nightmares as evil as some of the things they did to me,” said Shayla. Her voice cold and dispassionate. She looked back on her capture with cold logic. Shayla was sure the medicines that the healer had used may be deadening her emotions, but that was not a bad thing. Right now, feeling anything would be terribl
e. This was much better. “I do have to give it to them, they can be very creative when it comes to inflicting pain. However, they made a major mistake.”

  “What was that?”

  “They could never figure out what was the truth. I broke after the first week, told them everything I knew yet they just believed it was more lies. They wasted so much time torturing me when they should have just killed me.”

  “Breaking means nothing. Anyone can be broken given time. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, in truth you knew nothing of value.”

  Shayla frowned and tilted her head so that she could look Braylon in the eyes. “How so?”

  “I’ve spoken with your father. He revealed some very interesting details to me. We were both operating under some faulty assumptions.”

  “Care to elaborate?” asked Shayla. She wasn’t angry, she simply was curious as to what her father had told Braylon.

  Braylon moved closer and grabbed Shayla’s hand. “Sorry, that is a conversation for you and your father to have. Besides, I think I’ve earned the right to sit here and hold your hand for a bit. We can discuss the real world another time.”

  Shayla smiled, “I think I can handle that.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed Braylon’s presence. She felt safe with him there. There would be plenty of time to talk to her father and Braylon about the Brotherhood and how she intended to respond to this situation, but for now, she would just enjoy a moment of peace with her man. Whatever had held her back from admitting Braylon was her love was gone. His rescuing her solidified his position in her heart forever. She would never again send him on errands of an evil intent. Unless it involved the Brotherhood, she silently amended. She had much evil in her heart when it came to the Sacred Blood Brotherhood.

  35

  LYRIC WAS WORKING ON HIS SPEED TRAINING, a series of attacks and blocks he would do in repetition as fast as he could, when Blair spoke, “Who’s your friend in the woods?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Lyric. They were back in the meadow outside of Middale where most of their training took place.

  “Your friend that has been watching us train for the last three days. The one you’ve met after training the last two days.”

  “Oh, that friend,” said Lyric. How had Blair known all that?

  “You might as well invite her here. If she is going to watch, maybe she can be of some use,” said Blair. Children these days, thought Blair. Sure he now owned a bar and drank more of his own product than he ought to, but damn it, he was once a fine warrior and an excellent scout. That Lyric and his friend thought he wouldn’t notice was almost an insult.

  Lyric waved into the woods, “Sibylle, come here,” Lyric yelled.

  “Sibylle Lamar?” asked Blair.

  “Yes, you know her?” asked Lyric.

  “Everyone from Middale knows the Lord Lamar and his family,” said Blair.

  Sibylle sheepishly walked into the open field where Lyric and Blair were training. “Hello, Mr. Hiron.”

  “Please, Lady Lamar, call me Blair.”

  “Only if you call me Sibylle. Save the formal stuff for when there are fancy people are around.”

  Blair laughed, Sibylle was always a bit of a wild child and certainly not the average highborn. “So why is it that you have been spying on us Sibylle?”

  “I’ve been studying your teaching of Lyric,” said Sibylle.

  “Sibylle, I know for a fact that Robert Godefrey has been training you for years. There is nothing that I’ve taught Lyric that you don’t already know. I wouldn’t doubt it if you know the staff better than I.”

  “It’s true that I’ve been training with Robert for years, but you won the winter solstice tournament before. One of the only staff men to do so. Surely, I can learn from you.”

  Blair shook his head, “Robert Godefrey is twice the man I am when it comes to the staff. The only reason Robert hasn’t won the last seventeen tournaments is he was given a position as a guardian that prevents him from entering.”

  Sibylle was surprised to hear that. “Why hasn’t he entered? There is no law stating a guardian can’t enter tournaments.”

  Blair smiled, “You are correct, there are no tournament rules or laws stating he could not enter, but the oath Robert swore to your mother is one he takes very serious. Before your birth, Robert was one of the most feared knights in the kingdom. When he agreed to becoming your guardian, he refused to enter any tournaments or competitions. He didn’t want to bring attention to himself. The more people that forget that Robert Godefrey is one of the most dangerous men alive, the more people will underestimate him. That has helped him more than once over the years of service to your family.”

  “I had no idea,” admitted Sibylle.

  “That is kind of the whole point,” said Blair with a laugh. “Now, tell me the truth. Why are you here?”

  Sibylle sighed in resignation. “You know of the king’s decree that there will be a tournament on my next birthday?”

  “Yes,” said Blair. “The bar stories have every single man on Droll practicing their weapons training, even some who haven’t seen the sharp end of a weapon in ten years.”

  “I’d like Lyric to enter the tournament,” said Sibylle.

  Blair coughed back a laugh. “You want to marry this little runt?”

  “Have you met Lord Grant before?” asked Sibylle.

  Lord Grant was a large boorish man in his fifties with five dead wives along the way. He was known for treating his wives the same way he treated his horses. Blair pitied any horse owned by Lord Grant. “Yes, I’ve had the pleasure.”

  “How about Talon Horne, or Duke Pardieu?” asked Sibylle. “Those are the three men most likely to win this tournament. Those are the three men most likely to become my future husband and lover.”

  Blair took another look at Lyric. “So your saying you’d rather marry a skinny, funny looking, scared of his shadow, foreigner without a penny to his name than one of the royal lords who’d use you to further their own ambitions?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Sibylle.

  “I’m not funny looking!” insisted Lyric. The rest of the list seemed pretty accurate, but even Lyric had limits to what insults he’d accept.

  “You have purple eyes, dark hair and your skin doesn’t have one proper freckle. If that’s not funny looking, I don’t know what is,” replied Blair.

  “Unique, interesting, special,” said Sibylle in Lyric’s defense.

  “Ya, I’m unique!” said Lyric.

  Blair snorted.

  “Blair, I know it’s a long shot, but what options do I have?” asked Sibylle.

  “What does young Lyric say about this?” said Blair.

  Both Blair and Sibylle turned and stared at Lyric who had started working on his speed practice while they talked.

  Lyric stopped moving and looked at them, “I told her that she is crazier than a three-legged Billy goat trying to swim across the ocean if she thinks I can win.” Lyric took a couple more progressions of his practice, then paused again. “I also said I’d enter if she really wanted me to, but if I get my ass beat by some highborn lord, she has to pay for a healer.”

  Blair frowned. “This is serious business, Lyric. You know that if you win the tournament, you have to marry Sibylle. That isn’t a commitment that you should take lightly.”

  Lyric nodded, “I have thought about it. I know I can’t win, but if by some miracle I did win, I would marry her. Sibylle told me all about some of the lords that are fighting in the tournament. I would feel terrible if I stood back and did nothing while she was forced to marry one of them.” Lyric turned to Sibylle, “You have my word. I will do my best to win this tournament. I’ll train as hard as I can and I will do everything Blair asks of me. You are my friend, Sibylle, one of the few I have. I will do whatever I can to help you.”

  Sibylle gave Lyric a small hug. “Thank you, Lyric, I’m honored to be your friend.”

  “Of course, there is a bette
r chance of me being killed by the first lord I fight. I was serious about you paying for a healer,” said Lyric.

  Blair shrugged and looked at Sibylle. “The boy inspires confidence.”

  Sibylle frowned, “Lyric inspires something alright, but it isn’t confidence. It’s more like a sense of impending doom. However, I don’t have many options. I’m open for suggestions.”

  “I’ll admit that when it comes to picking yourself a husband, you could do a lot worse. Despite his obvious flaws as a warrior, I’ll concede he’s not a bad apple. I’ll keep training him, but he would benefit from a training partner. You’ll have to help train him,” said Blair as he threw her his training staff.

  Sibylle caught the staff, twirled it around, testing its weight and balance. She moved her feet, subtly shifting her weight until she was in a battle ready position. “Come here, Lyric.”

  Lyric watched her catch the staff and how quickly she spun it and moved into position. It was faster than he imagined possible. He gulped loudly. “Oh, dear. This is going to hurt.”

  Lunging forward he launched his first attack, a straight spearing attempt. Sibylle slapped the end of Lyric’s staff, sending it off to the side and then smacked him in his lead leg above the knee before he could recover.

  “That was a good aggressive attack, Lyric,” said Blair in encouragement. “However, it was a touch slow and you overbalanced yourself on your right foot. Next time try a shorter step and really focus on your hand speed. Get your staff moving as fast as you can.”

  “That was as fast as I can go,” said Lyric in protest.

  “That will come with time,” said Sibylle. “Try another attack.”

  Lyric frowned, how the heck had he gotten himself into this mess? Training was one thing, but now he was going to spend the next six months training everyday with two fighters better than him. He foresaw a lot of bruises in his future. And the thing that scared him more than getting beat on every day for six months only to have to fight and get beaten by the highborn competitors was the idea that he might accidentally win. Sibylle was becoming a good friend and he hated that she was going to have to marry some jerk just because he could fight. But if Lyric won, what would happen to Celine? Would she still talk to him if he was married? Just thinking about telling Celine about the tournament made Lyric’s head hurt. He knew he had to tell her about it soon, but was terrified of what she would say.