Tears of the Dragon

by Cyndi Friberg

  “Who are you?” she asked again.

  “Why would you need to ask?”

  The woman smiled playfully, so Rowena tried to relax.

  She looked more closely at the woman’s features, perfectly proportioned, elegant, fragile yet somehow fierce—Fairy. Her incredible eyes tilted at an exotic angle and thick dark lashes formed an accentuating frame. The pupils were not round but diamond-shaped, within irises that shone like polished amber.

  “Fair Fiona?” Rowena asked.

  “Aye, some have called me that.”

  Rowena felt almost giddy. This could not be real. “But you are a myth, a legend.”

  “Then what, pray tell, does that make you?” Fiona’s features settled into a speculative expression. “Are you up to the test, little one? You’re younger than I’d thought you’d be.”

  A strange tingle skittered along Rowena’s nerve endings. “What test? I don’t understand.”

  “You will, very soon.”

  Her liquid-amber eyes began to burn. Rowena felt their heat upon her face and her insides began to cramp and coil.

  “Are you brave, little one? Are you wise?”

  Rowena didn’t respond. Foreboding expanded within the room. Rowena felt its cold fist grip her heart and smelled its rancid breath.

  Fiona came into vivid focus, sparkling with life and vitality. She kissed Rowena on the cheek, and Rowena gasped at the heat radiated by the simple contact.

  “Are you ready, Rowena? Are you worthy?”

  “Ready for what? Worthy of what? I do not understand.”

  The light appeared again, surrounding Fiona.

  “Wait!” Desperately she grabbed for Fiona’s slender hand. She was leaving! She couldn’t leave until Rowena understood what she must do. Beams of light penetrated Fiona’s form, absorbing her shape. “Don’t leave. Please don’t go.”

  “I have protected your son, Rowena. He is safe within your womb.” Fiona’s voice echoed as if from a great distance.

  Rowena’s hands flew to her stomach. “My son?” Blood pounded through her brain, making her dizzy and weak. She sank to her knees, trembling. Was it possible? Did a tiny life nestle within her body? Her heart soared at the possibility, her joy so acute it was nearly painful. She would bear a son.

  Dominic’s son!

  The light expanded, suddenly encompassing Rowena. She struggled against it, frightened of its relentless pull. Stinging heat kissed her skin. Her blood felt like molten lava surging through her veins.

  She screamed.

  She was being dragged and sucked into a fiery abyss. Blinded by the light’s intensity and twisting in agony, Rowena struggled. She kicked, she hit, she writhed, and all to no avail.

  Pain consumed her.

  The light began to recede, but the sensations escalated until she knew nothing but agony and darkness.

  * * * * *

  An audible groan tore from Rowena’s dry throat as she struggled to lift her eyelids. Blinding light greeted her with a merciless welcome, so she quickly closed them again.

  Was she dreaming? Her thoughts were muddled and sluggish. She remembered the light and the pain that followed. Had the pain been part of the light, or was it the other way around? Perhaps it had all been a dream and she was only now returning to reality.

  Nay, she realized, the pain at least was real. Her muscles felt achy and tight, as if they’d been held in a prolonged cramp. Pounding pressure beat behind her eyes and deep within her temples. Slowly, she tried to move, but weakness kept her from moving so much as her hand.

  “Thora,” she called, her voice raspy and hoarse.

  Why was her mouth so dry?

  She heard heavy footsteps on a wooden floor and then a blissfully familiar male voice. “Oh, thanks be to God!”

  Rowena braved the light again, desperate for a glimpse of Dominic’s face. His handsome features contorted with relief, and his gaze devoured her face.

  “Dominic.” It hurt to speak.

  He rushed to her side and carefully pulled her into his arms. Rowena gasped as the simple movement shot pain through her shoulder and down her arm. “What happened? My arm…”

  “You were injured, my love. You have been very ill.”

  She couldn’t read the emotions converging in his expression. Were those tears in his eyes? Nay, that was not possible.

  “I feel horrible.” The simplest movement exhausted her. She hardly had the strength to raise her head. “I need water.”

  He reached for a cup on the table nearby, lifting it to her lips without releasing her from his embrace. After quenching her thirst, Rowena relaxed against him and listened to the comforting beat of his heart.

  “Four days,” he whispered. “You’ve been unconscious four days.”

  Rowena tried to focus her mind, but thoughts floated and fluttered just out of reach. “The arrow.” Bits and pieces came back to her, terrifying fragments and images that drained her tiny store of strength.

  “It was poisoned, as you feared.”

  “Someone tried to kill me.” Rowena’s voice cracked and tears burned her eyes. Never had she been this miserable. Her entire body ached, her head pounded relentlessly, and it had been done intentionally.

  He rocked her against his chest, his hold amazingly gentle. “You’re safe now. No one will ever hurt you again.”

  She tried to smile, to find comfort in his assurance, but she didn’t have the strength. Closing her eyes again, she surrendered to oblivion.

  * * * * *

  “Has there been any change?” Thora asked softly from the doorway.

  Dominic looked up from Rowena’s haggard face and nodded. “She spoke to me not long ago. She’s very weak, but she was lucid for a moment.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  She filled her voice with enthusiasm, but Dominic was too drained to respond. Rowena still looked dreadful. It was too soon to tell if the poison would have any lasting effects, and hope was just too painful.

  He felt dazed, almost numb. For four days he’d watched her writhe in fevered delirium, not knowing from one moment to the next if she’d live or die.

  “I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

  He found it hard to believe the crisis had actually passed. He couldn’t move himself from her side, afraid that he might yet lose her to death.

  “I despise being helpless.”

  Thora sat at the foot of the bed and smiled at him. “You look nearly as bad as she does.”

  “My thanks, gracious damsel. I didn’t stand this vigil alone. Neither you nor Farrell have been far from this room.”

  “If she awakened, the crisis is past. You will need your strength to help her complete her recovery.”

  “And to tell her what I have done?” He took Rowena’s hand and brushed his lips across her fingers, needing to touch her, to reassure himself that she was still here.

  “Some things can wait until she’s stronger. All she need know is that you love her and will be here to protect her.”

  “As I protected her four days ago?”

  “Do not.” Thora shook her head, her tone insistent. “We cannot give in to guilt, nor can we entertain regrets. She is alive because of you. The people of Pendragon are safe. She is recovering, and that is all that matters.”

  He wanted to believe it, but Dominic was not a fool. He was thrilled that Rowena would regain her health, but his greatest challenge was yet to come.

  * * * * *

  After enduring twelve days confined to her bedchamber, Rowena happily lifted her face to the sky. She took in a long, deep breath, fragrant with autumn leaves and the promise of evening showers. Holding it within her lungs, she savored the cool freshness. A gentle, chilly breeze teased her cheeks, but she cuddled within the comfort of her fur-lined cloak.

  “Color has returned to your cheeks,” Dominic said. “You look beautiful.”

  They strolled along the wide aisle separating the rose bushes. Most of the blossoms had withe
red with the frost the night before, but one stubborn bud refused to bow to winter’s brutality. Rowena gently touched the fragile blossom, admiring its deep red color and its velvety texture. “I feel completely recovered, and I have for several days.” Leaving the rose intact on its thorny perch, she continued on.

  “I suppose we’ve been a bit overprotective, but I don’t think you realize how close we came to losing you.”

  Rowena did no more than smile in thoughtful acceptance. Dominic had taken up the odd habit of referring to himself in tandem with Thora and Farrell. Thora was almost understandable, they had both been active participants in her recovery, but why did Dominic suddenly feel a connection with Farrell?

  “And when can we be expected to abandon this ridiculous fear that I shall wither away before our eyes?”

  He chuckled, taking her hand and tucking it into the bend of his elbow. “We are nearly over our worry.”

  He’d been wonderful these past few days, utterly dedicated to her care and entertainment. Once she was strong enough to leave her bed, he’d hardly left her side. They played chess and shared nearly every meal in the peaceful seclusion of her solar. They chatted away the afternoons and in the evenings she curled up in front of the fire with her head resting on his lap as he read to her. These had been some of the best days of her life.

  She could no longer ignore the obvious; Dominic of Chapstow was courting her.

  “Do you think it’s possible to prove that Edwin tried to kill me?” she asked quietly.

  He stopped walking and looked into her eyes. “I’ve been to Llangly twice. Edwin has gone into hiding.”

  His long dark hair had been pulled away from his face and bound at the nape of his neck. Sunlight accented his strong features and the golden tone to his smooth skin. Tempered with warmth and tenderness, his eyes glowed like sapphires. Rowena felt her heart turn over and the all too familiar ache took up root deep within her belly.

  “What did you intend to do if he had been there?”

  “I’m not sure. If I’d found him that first day, I might have killed him, but as you say, it would be better to prove he was responsible for the attack. I’ve men watching his keep and the village. If he returns, I’ll know.”

  “Once he’s captured, will the danger to me be past?”

  His hands came down on her shoulders and he pulled her toward him. Those sapphire eyes ignited with deep blue fire. “He’ll not get near you again, Rowena. I’ll find him and make sure that he can never touch you. No one will ever hurt you again.”

  A harsh sort of desperation rasped through his tone. It took her a moment to realize the cause. “You’re not to blame, Dominic. You saved my life that day.”

  He moved his hands and stepped back, looking even more miserable than before. “God’s blood, woman, your pity is the last thing I need.”

  Why was he angry? “’Tis not pity. ’Tis gratitude, but if it offends you, I withdraw it. I blame you entirely for Edwin’s treachery.” She smiled into his eyes, hoping to lighten his mood. “You should have anticipated his madness and had me fitted for armor or at least a shield with which I could have deflected—”

  “Rowena.”

  She didn’t understand the dread in his eyes. “Aye.”

  “We must speak.”

  “We are speaking.”

  “Nay.” He glanced around with obvious anxiety and then motioned to the stone bench near the garden wall. “May we sit, my lady?”

  His formality scared her. Why was he behaving so strangely? She sat and arranged her cloak to cover her legs.

  He lowered himself beside her, each movement stiff and hesitant. His eyes studied some spot in the distance as his thumb tapped out a nervous rhythm against his thigh.

  Anxiety curled around her, compounded by his obvious hesitation. “What is the matter?”

  “The poison from the arrow and the massive amount of blood that you lost led us to believe that you would die.”

  He seemed to choose each word individually. Rowena fidgeted on the hard bench.

  “If you had died that night, Edwin would have won Pendragon Castle. Not even William Marshal would have been able to deny his claim.” He paused to clear his throat. “But if you had been wed before you died, your holdings would have passed to your husband not to Edwin.”

  “If I had been wed?” Her stomach cramped and she had to swallow repeatedly. He couldn’t mean what he appeared to mean. It wasn’t possible! “Whom did I marry?”

  “I wanted to woo you gently, to allow you time to know me before I—”

  “While I lay senseless and completely unable to participate, you married me?” She shot up from the bench and turned on him. “I have heard you called Undaunted, but it was not until this moment that I understood what that meant. You are despicable.”

  “I wanted you as my wife, Rowena. We both know that I did, but the decision to wed—”

  “How was it accomplished? Who spoke my vows for me? Who presided over such an abomination?”

  He reached for her hand, but she quickly backed away, burying her arms within the fullness of her cloak. “Answer my questions.” A great flood of emotion trembled within her, held back by her pride alone.

  “We were able to convince Brother Samuel to perform the ceremony, and William set his seal to a special license yesterday.”

  “Ooh!” She kicked a clump of pinecones at her—husband. “How could you? How could you do this to me!”

  Dominic managed to frame her face with his hands before she could thwart him. “I love you, Rowena. Is that not what you have wanted all along? A husband who adores you?”

  Stubbornly ignoring the leap in her pulse at his unexpected words, Rowena shoved against his chest. He didn’t budge, so she grasped his wrists and dug in her fingernails. “Don’t speak to me of love! I doubt you know the meaning of the word.” Forcing his hands from her face, she scrambled away from him. “I will never forgive you for this. I will never forgive any of you!”

  He didn’t follow as she ran for the keep. He’d not spoken their names, but she didn’t need to ask who his conspirators had been. Thora and Farrell.

  She found Farrell in the hall. He was speaking quietly with a man she didn’t recognize. With no real hint of her intentions, she stepped in between the two men and punched the steward squarely in the stomach. He doubled over with a loud grunt, and she shoved him down onto the rush-strewn floor.

  “Be off my lands by nightfall, or I’ll have you hanged!”

  He had no breath to object, and she didn’t give him the opportunity. She flew up the stairs to her solar.

  Kicking a wooden stool across the room, she screamed. The sound echoed back to her, but she felt no relief. She screamed again.

  Panting and lightheaded, she looked for something to smash. But even in the midst of her fury she knew that nothing could restore the hope snuffed out by what they’d done. She kicked over one of the benches.

  “Is this helping?” Dominic asked from the doorway. She didn’t respond well to the light mockery in his tone. She spun and flew at him, hands curved into claws.

  Dominic caught her and easily trapped her arms between their bodies. She thrashed and kicked, calling him obscene names he had no idea she knew. He just restrained her and let her rage. It was only after her anger ran its course and she began to sob he attempted to speak.

  Gently stroking her hair, he felt her tears against his throat. She liked to nestle there against his shoulder when she was upset. He knew she felt betrayed, how could she not? But if he let her hide behind her anger it would set the tone for the rest of their life together. He had to find a way beyond her resentment. He didn’t want to live in a world where she hated him.

  “You cannot stay angry forever,” he said softly.

  “I can try.”

  He heard her stubborn words and smiled. Molding her body more intimately against his, he gave thanks when she didn’t resist. “May we speak about this now, or are you still too angry?�
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  “I will always be too angry to listen to your lies.”

  He eased her away, but his hands lingered on her shoulders. He needed to touch her and go right on touching her, but she raised hurt-filled eyes and he strangled a groan. If he kissed her, he knew he could ignite her passion and burn away the pain, but too much was left unsaid.

  “I’ll not deny this is what I’ve wanted all along, but I did not manipulate the situation.” She started to object, but he laid his index finger across her lips. “Hush. If you had died that night, Edwin would be here right now, Lord of Pendragon Castle.”

  “I would have haunted him.”

  Dominic was unable to suppress his smile this time. “Be that as it may, there was more at stake than you or I. It was suggested to me that I go ahead and have the marriage performed. I tried to object, knowing how you would react, but—”

  “Suggested by whom?”

  “Farrell.”

  “I do not believe you. Why would Farrell offer me to someone else?”

  “When he wants you for himself?” Despite his determination to win her with gentle logic, a flare of jealousy nearly ended their conversation. “He told me that he would rather burn Pendragon Castle to the ground than see it in the hands of Edwin. He also said that if I didn’t wed with you, he’d marry you himself.”

  “I could never marry Farrell.”

  “He saw me as the lesser of two evils, I believe.”

  “I am not convinced.” She shrugged off his hands.

  “That I am the lesser of two evils?”

  She nodded and moved back several steps. “I don’t know what to think of you. I do not know you.”

  “Then get to know me. That is what I have been trying to say. Take as much time as you need and—”

  “But it is irrelevant now!”

  Her arm flew as if she launched something at his head. Dominic barely suppressed the urge to duck, but there was nothing in her hand.

  “Do you not see? It would not matter if you were evil and perverted. What recourse is there for me now? You could have strangled your mother and snapped Monica’s neck and it would make no difference. I am trapped.”

  His blood sank to his feet, and Dominic forgot to breathe. “I did not kill Monica.” He ground out the words with all the frustration and resentment permanently attached to the name.