The Dragon Lord's Daughters

by Bertrice Small

  In the morning he arose at first light, and bathed himself, for he had not done it the previous evening before sleeping. He opened his pack, and was surprised to find not only a clean chemise, but a simple clean cotte folded up tightly. Smiling, he shook it out, thinking he must remember to thank Argel when he returned to Dragon’s Lair. A man always felt more confident in clean garments. He took his worn chemise and used it to polish his boots free of dust and dirt before he pulled them on again. When he had completed his toilette he departed the chamber, and easily found his way back down to the great hall where his host was already at table. The morning meal was as tasty as the previous meal had been.

  Finally Emrys Llyn said, “You will want to see all of my home now, I expect, my lord.” He arose from his seat. “Come, and I will show you.”

  Merin Pendragon stood up, and followed the younger man. The Dragon Lord quickly discovered that while the castle was small, Ile du Lac was well thought out. There was a chamber where the lord kept scrolls and bound books, many of them obviously quite old. The kitchens were below the great hall, and there was a stone shaft with a platform within it that was raised and lowered by means of a rope and pulley. This, Emrys Llyn explained, was how food arrived in the hall hot, and how the dishes and platters were quickly cleared away. In the kitchens below the Dragon Lord saw the usual activity of a kitchen. The servants there smiled and nodded at their master and his guest as they passed by. There was a buttery and a pantry, and a cold room where game and game birds were hung.

  Above the great hall there was a large master chamber, and several small but spacious chambers, including his own. In each of the four corners of the second story there were stairs leading to each of the castle’s four towers. His old nursemaid, Drysi, lived in the south tower, Emrys Llyn explained.

  “She is very ancient, having looked after others of my family,” he explained. “She rarely leaves her rooms, and all her meals are brought to her. Would you like to meet her? I know she would consider it an honor to meet a descendant of King Arthur.”

  “I would, indeed,” Merin Pendragon replied. This spoke well of Emrys Llyn that he housed and respected an elderly retainer. I was right to insist on coming to Ile du Lac, he thought. I can learn much about this man just being here. He followed his host up the steep and winding staircase to a door.

  Emrys Llyn knocked upon the dark, worn oak portal, which was opened by a smiling young girl who curtsied.

  “My lord! Drysi will be pleased that you have come.” She ushered them into the chamber where an old woman sat in a high backed chair.

  The eyes that looked out at them were a sharp, faded blue and the skin on her face wrinkled with age. She was a tiny woman and it was obvious that her back was crooked and hunched. She beckoned them forward with a rather imperious wave of her bony hand. “Come! Come! Let me see this seed of the great king,” she said.

  Merin Pendragon stepped forward and gave the old woman a courtly bow. “You know me,” he said.

  “Have I not ears to hear?” she asked him.

  “Drysi knows everything that goes on at Ile du Lac,” Emrys Llyn said in an affectionate amused tone of voice. “Sometimes she knows before even I know,” he teased his old nursemaid.

  Drysi cackled. “ ’Tis a truth,” she admitted. Then she looked again at the Dragon Lord. “So, my lord, your daughter would wed with my master.”

  “And he would wed with her,” Merin Pendragon responded quietly.

  “Does she love him?”

  “So she says,” he answered.

  “She must love him with all her heart and her soul,” Drysi replied. “She must love him so completely that whatever happens her love will not waver. Tell me, seed of Arthur, can your daughter love that hard, that desperately? And think carefully before you answer me.”

  “I can only tell you, Drysi, that never before has Maia given her heart to a man, but for me, her father,” the Dragon Lord said. “I can tell you that before we departed Dragon’s Lair three days ago my daughter had locked herself in the tower room she shares with her sister, and swore she would not emerge from it until I gave my permission for her marriage to Emrys Llyn. She threatened to leap from the tower window if I tried to force her out before then. Aye, I believe Maia loves your master with everything of which her innocent heart is capable.”

  The old woman nodded. “It is promising,” she said.

  “Now you tell me, Drysi, who knows all. What happened to your master’s first two wives? He says he does not know, but I am not certain I can believe him.”

  “He tells you the truth,” Drysi responded. “But they were foolish girls, both of them, and the second had a greedy nature. I suppose it was their fate to die young.” She shrugged. “They just went to sleep, and did not awaken. That is all I can tell you, my lord. There are some things that even I am not privileged to know, but Emrys is innocent of any deception, or complicity in their deaths. That I swear to you.”

  The Dragon Lord felt that perhaps the old woman knew more than she was willing to admit. She would protect her master at any cost, he thought, yet the more he was in Emrys Llyn’s company, the more he liked the young man. There was nothing evil in this castle, nor among its inhabitants. The Dragon Lord had no excuse to forbid his daughter her heart’s desire.

  “Your daughter will be content here, seed of Arthur,” Drysi said. “But remember, she must love Emrys Llyn no matter the circumstance.”

  “I believe she will,” the Dragon Lord replied. He turned to his host. “Show me these gardens Maia raves about. My wife and my women will want to know all about them.”

  They took their leave of Drysi, moving down the staircases and finally out into the Lord of the Lake’s gardens. Maia had been right. The gardens moved from an inner courtyard out into a large walled area that spilled down to the lakeside. The day was bright and sunny. A day such as Merin Pendragon had rarely seen. The air was soft around him, and the smell of roses, rosemary and lavender tickled his nose. There were several apple trees in the large section of the garden, now heavy with fruit. He looked about him, and knew in his heart that his daughter could be happy nowhere else.

  “There is one final place I would show you,” Emrys Llyn said. “Come with me, my lord.” And he led his guest back into the castle, up a staircase that the Dragon Lord didn’t remember having seen before, into a long chamber with windows along one entire side that overlooked the lake. The chamber was bright with sunshine and the sparkle of the water that reflected through the tall windows. Opposite the windows the other wall appeared bare until Emrys Llyn waved his hand slowly, and to the Dragon Lord’s amazement lifelike figures appeared upon the wall. “I thought you would enjoy seeing your ancestor,” the Lord of the Lake said. “You much resemble him.” He pointed to the figure of a tall distinguished man in full armor, the red Pendragon emblazoned across his breastplate. In one arm the man held a helmet. In the other a great sword. On his dark head was a narrow gold crown.

  Merin Pendragon stared. “That is Arthur?” This was an amazing magic.

  “Aye, ’tis the once and future king himself, my lord. Now look to his right, and see Lancelot, and on the king’s left is his queen.”

  Gwynefr was exquisite, the Dragon Lord thought to himself. No wonder Arthur had fallen hopelessly in love with her. And as Merin resembled his ancestor, so did Emrys Llyn resemble Lancelot. “Show me more,” he begged the Lord of the Lake.

  Emrys Llyn smiled, and led his guest down the chamber. Farther down the wall a trio of incredibly beautiful women could be seen. “Arthur’s half sisters. Morgause, who was married to King Lot of Orkney, Morgan le Fey, who seduced Arthur before he knew who she was, and bore his son, Mordred, who was responsible for the downfall of Camelot; and lastly the youngest of them, Elaine, the lady of Shallot who died of her unrequited love for my ancestor, Lancelot, who betrayed her first with my mother, and then with Gwynefr.”

  “I have never seen such beautiful women,” Merin Pendragon said softly.


  “Aye, they were famed for it, but their hearts were evil. They never forgot that Uther Pendragon was responsible for the death of the duke of Cornwall, who was their father; and all because of Uther’s desperate passion for Igraine, who was the duke’s wife before she was Uther Pendragon’s wife. They hated their stepfather though he treated them as if they were his own blood. They hated their mother after Cornwall’s death, for they held her equally culpable. One night Uther Pendragon, with the help of Merlin the Enchanter, took Cornwall’s form, entered his castle, and seduced Igraine. The sisters believed that she was aware of the deception, yet allowed herself to be swept away. That is why your ancestor, Arthur, was hidden away until it was time for him to become the king,” Emrys explained. He moved on down the wall, waving his hand as he went. “Here is Merlin himself, and with him the beauteous Vivian the Enchantress who was his mate, and finally betrayed him.”

  “And the Lady of the Lake, your ancestress?” Merin Pendragon asked, curious.

  “The final image, my lord,” Emrys Llyn said softly.

  The Dragon Lord stared hard. If Arthur’s half sisters had been divinely fair, this otherworldly creature was incredible in her exquisite beauty. Her face was shaped like a heart. Her skin was pure and creamy with just the faintest hint of rose in her cheeks. Her golden hair curled and swirled about her as if being blown in a breeze. Her eyes were the same blue as the sky above her, and the lake below her gown, the hem of which seemed to be made of the lake’s very waves. She brandished Arthur’s sword, the fabled Excalibur, above her, her fingers wrapped about its gem-encrusted hilt.

  “Usually,” Emrys Llyn said quietly, “the only glimpse people have of the Lady is her arm holding the sword. For my father’s sake she agreed to be displayed here, but only on the condition that all the portraitures be rendered invisible to the everyday eye. Only the master of the castle would be able to reveal them.”

  “I am honored to have seen them,” the Dragon Lord said.

  “There is one final view,” the Lord of the Lake replied. He waved his hand, and there before them was the famed Round Table with Arthur and his knights in the great hall at Camelot.

  “It is magnificent,” the Dragon Lord said. His eyes were filled with tears. “Thank you, Emrys Llyn, for showing me this. Thank you!” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

  “Have you seen all you need to see, my lord?” the younger man asked him.

  Merin Pendragon nodded. “Aye, I have.”

  “And have you made your decision?” Emrys Llyn asked.

  “Aye, I have.” The Dragon Lord sighed. “While I still cannot help but wonder what happened to your two previous wives, I am content that you will do whatever you must to protect and cherish my daughter Maia. She is yours.”

  “I would give my life for Maia,” Emrys Llyn said.

  “I hope that it will not come to that,” Merin Pendragon said. “Now, let us go back to your hall, my lord, and drink to the union of our two families.”

  Chapter 9

  Brynn Pendragon could see the two riders from the top of the north tower where he stood watching. They came from the northwest. Even from this distance he recognized his father’s horse. The day was gray, damp and misty, but the boy remained at his post. There was plenty of time, and the moment he delivered his news to the hall his mother and the other women would set up a great to-do. And his silly sister would dash up to her chamber in the south tower, and lock herself in her room until she was certain she was getting her own way. And she was. The very fact that Emrys Llyn rode with his father told the boy that. The Lord of the Lake would have hardly returned with Merin Pendragon so that he might be publicly refused and humiliated. But Maia would play at her game of histrionics. His sister, Brynn decided, had the wit of a goose.

  The watchman on the south tower looked to him for instruction. He pointed to the hills, but Brynn shook his head. “Not yet,” he called to the man. The man-at-arms nodded his understanding, and turned away. So Maia would be wed, Brynn thought. And that would leave only Junia for him to tease. He grinned to himself. Junia was a lot of fun for a girl. She could race him on both horseback and foot. He could beat her ahorse, but Junia ran faster than anyone he had ever known. It would seem odd with just the two of them now. He still missed his eldest sibling, Averil, and now Maia was to go.

  The two riders were halfway across the field before the keep now. Brynn called down to the men-at-arms below. “My father comes with a guest. Make ready!” Then he opened the trapdoor in the roof, and climbed down a ladder into a small room below, pulling the door shut behind him and barring it. He lay the ladder against the far wall as he had been taught. Then he exited the chamber and ran down the stairs into the hallway below. Dashing down the steps from the upper hallway he entered the hall. “Father is coming,” he said.

  Maia jumped up with a little shriek and made for the stairs.

  “Your lover is with him, you muttonhead,” Brynn called after her. “He isn’t coming back because father has refused him. You’re going to get your way.”

  Maia stopped for a moment, and turned. “ ’Tis a matter of principal,” she told her little brother in lofty tones. “And don’t you dare tell them that I’ve been out of my chamber while they’ve been gone, or I will make you very sorry, Brynn Pendragon.”

  “Yah! Yah! Yah!” he mocked her with a grin. “Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t. I’m not afraid of you, Maia. Oh? Is that our father I hear at the portal?” And he laughed uproariously as his elder sister turned again, and picking up her skirts dashed up the stairs.

  “Brynn,” Argel gently chided her son, but she was smiling, and the others were as well, but for Junia who began to giggle openly.

  Brynn winked at her. “Soon it will be just you and me, Juni,” he said to her.

  Junia stopped giggling, and her lower lip began to quiver. Two large fat tears rolled down her face. “I don’t want Maia to go,” she sobbed.

  “Now you have done it, you little roughneck,” Ysbail snapped. She turned on her daughter. “Stop howling, Junia! Soon you will be old enough to be married.”

  “I don’t want to marry!” Junia wailed. “I want everything to be as it was. I want my sisters baaaaack!”

  “Life moves on, my child,” Argel said quietly. “Averil is content with her husband, and son. And Maia loves Emrys Llyn, and is glad to be his wife. I know you love your sisters so you must be happy that they are happy. Someday, sooner than even I would wish, you will find that same happiness in the arms of a man.” Argel embraced the young girl, and stroked her dark hair. “Do not let your father see such a sad face upon his return, my child.” She wiped Junia’s tears with the heel of her hand.

  “Yes, Lady Mother,” Junia said obediently, and she gave Argel a tremulous smile.

  Merin Pendragon came into his hall in the company of Emrys Llyn. He looked tired, his women noted. Argel and Gorawen hurried forward to greet the two men while Ysbail poured out two goblets of wine for the travelers. The Dragon Lord embraced his wife, and then Gorawen. Seeing Ysbail standing with the wine he nodded his approval, and greeted her as he took one of the goblets from her hand. She handed the other to the Lord of the Lake. The two men sat by the late afternoon fire while the others clustered about them on the settle, and the two youngsters sat upon the floor next to their father.

  “My lord,” Argel began formally, “as you have returned in the company of Emrys Llyn, I must assume that you have decided to allow a match between him and our daughter Maia.”

  “I have,” the Dragon Lord answered.

  “And his home is fit for our daughter’s arrival?” Argel continued.

  “His castle, which is called Ile du Lac, is beautifully situated and in excellent repair. The servants are well trained, and pleasant. They are anxious for a new mistress,” Merin Pendragon told his audience.

  “And you have found the cause of his previous wives deaths?” Argel persisted.

  “It would seem there is no mystery, my lady wi
fe. It was but a coincidence that both of these young women died suddenly, and seemingly without cause,” Merin Pendragon told his audience. “I am satisfied there is no evil involved.”

  “Then we may plan a wedding?” Argel asked.

  “You may plan a wedding,” the Dragon Lord told his wife.

  “Then you must send Emrys Llyn to Maia’s chamber to tell her all is well, my lord,” Argel said with a smile.

  “I will show you!” Junia jumped up and held out her hand to Emrys Llyn.

  He looked to the Dragon Lord, who nodded with a grin. “Fetch the wench,” he said. “Junia, you may show him, but then you are to come right back to the hall, lass.”

  “Yes, Da,” she answered him, and then she hurried off with Emrys Llyn.

  When they had left the hall Gorawen said, “Tell us all, my lord.” She knew there was far more than Merin had revealed so far. “Is there magic at Ile du Lac?”

  He nodded. “Aye, but of a gentle sort. The castle sits on an island in the midst of the lake. A ferry, without a ferryman to steer it, came at the sound of Emrys Llyn’s horn. It took us over to the island, which is very beautiful, filled with all manner of green and growing things. The castle is lovely with four tall towers with peaked witch’s caps for roofs. The towers each face a different compass point. The servants, his majordomo told me, are human, fairy, and a mixture of both. He is loved by all. I met his old nursemaid, Drysi. She lives in isolated splendor in the south tower. I asked her about the two previous wives, but she assured me, and I did believe her, that it was but a tragic coincidence. She says if Maia loves Emrys there can be no difficulty, and predicts the marriage will be happy.”

  Drysi, Gorawen thought. The word meant “thorn.” Merin was not repeating exactly what the old woman had said. He was abbreviating it for them. She would speak to him later, and coax him to remember everything. Maia’s very life could depend upon it, Gorawen considered.