“Of course,” Lleland replied. They rounded a corner, and Drake stopped before a tall townhouse. Using his fist, he thumped on the door, and a moment later it was pulled open from within by a large, matronly woman.
“Hannah,” Drake said. “This is –” He was cut off when a young woman flew out the door and flung her arms around him.
“Zach!” He returned the embrace with a laugh.
“Hello, sister. It’s wonderful to see you again, too. I’ve brought our guest.”
“Oh!” Lydia pulled herself out of Zach’s arms and turned to Lleland with a blush, her eyes lowered. “Please forgive me, Master Seaton, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen my brother.”
“Three nights,” Zach said with a laugh. He threw a glance at Lleland, who raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, I’ve just made you complicit in my erring ways.”
Lleland shrugged. “You ran into her in the street, I’m sure, since you know that entertaining someone in your chambers would lead to immediate expulsion, as would sneaking out at night.”
Zach grinned. “Right you are.”
“Let these men get out of the cold,” Hannah interrupted. “My Sam lit a fire in the parlor in expectation of your arrival, and it should be cozy and warm by now.” She pushed the door closed behind them and waited as they shed their cloaks. “Take the men into the parlor, dear,” she said to Lydia, “and I’ll be along with some wine and victuals in a few minutes.”
“Of course, Hannah,” Lydia said, leading the way down the passage. Her long hair rippled over her back as she walked, gleaming in the low light of the rush torches. Beneath the soft folds of a white gown swayed slender hips, and her bare feet passed over the stone floor with barely a whisper. She paused at the entrance of the room and turned to Lleland. He had been watching her graceful movements, but as he lifted his gaze to meet hers, the breath caught in his throat. All thoughts fled from his mind as he stared into her glowing eyes, shining like molten gold and more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. The eyes of a goddess.
“Please make yourself comfortable, Master Seaton,” she said. He groped behind him and sat down heavily on a hard, wooden bench. Zach sat down next to his sister. “How go the studies?” she asked her brother.
“Ah,” Zach said, leaning back in his seat. “We poor students are driven very hard. I’ve told you before that only Latin is allowed. A dry, dead language!”
“A hardship indeed,” Lydia replied in that same language.
Lleland looked at her in surprise. “You speak Latin?” he said.
Lydia’s forehead furrowed as she slowly turned to look at him. “Yes,” she said. “Did you take me for an uneducated maid?”
“Lydia,” Zach groaned. She turned to him with a glare, but then it was gone, and she gave a self-deprecating laugh as she turned ruefully back to Lleland.
“My apologies, Master Seaton, that was rude of me.”
Lleland waved his hand. “The apologies are mine, Mistress,” he said. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “You’re forgiven!” She caught his gaze, and Lleland smiled back, shaking himself when he realized he was staring.
“How, er, I mean, where did you learn to speak Latin?” he asked.
“Master Corbin. He was our tutor, growing up.”
“Did he live in your remote mountain fortress?”
Lydia laughed. “Yes. And he sent us all over the mountain, searching for every specimen of flora that grew there, didn’t he, Zach?”
Lleland had forgotten about Zach for a moment, but he glanced at him now, surprised to see Zach regarding him with a slight frown. It vanished as he looked at Lydia. “I think he was just getting back at us for hiding from him so often!”
“I don’t remember you hiding very often,” Lydia said playfully. “You were quite the student, always eager to please.”
Zach flushed as Hannah entered the room, a large platter of sweetmeats in her hands. She placed it carefully on the table. “There now,” she said, “a small morsel to keep you going.” She picked up the wine and filled Lleland’s cup. “You’re Master Zach’s tutor, I hear.”
“That’s correct,” Lleland replied.
“It’s good to have the children in Civitas. I remember when they were just youngsters, here for the old king’s coronation.” She turned to Lydia. “Remember how excited you were –”
“Thank you, Hannah,” Lydia interrupted. “I think we have all we need.” Hannah nodded and bustled out of the room. “Poor dear,” Lydia said when she was out of earshot, “she’s getting on in years, and sometimes gets a bit confused. She was thinking of our cousins, Bronwyn and Will.”
Lleland laughed. “I was wondering about that. It must be…” – he paused to do a quick calculation – “…nearly twenty-five years since Alfred’s coronation, so even if you had been born, you couldn’t have been more than babes.”
Lydia smiled. “A lady never reveals her age.” She glanced at Zach. “And nor does a gentleman,” she added.
Lleland laughed. “Very well, my lady, keep your secret, although I would hazard you are no more than twenty.” She lifted her eyebrows, and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “But I’ll say no more!”
“Have you heard from Father?” Lydia asked Zach.
“They arrived at the Manor yesterday. Anna and Max are already there.”
Lydia smiled. “Anna’s invited me to return home with them after Christmas.”
“And are you going?”
“Of course!” Lydia turned to Lleland. “Anna is our aunt. Do you have family close by?”
“My mother and sister both live in Civitas. We’ll spend the feast day together.”
“What about your father?” Lydia asked.
Lleland shot a quick look at Zach before replying. “He died when I was a child.”
“I’m sorry,” Lydia said.
“It was a long time ago.” He paused. “You know, the name Drake is well known in Civitas.” From the corner of his eye, Lleland saw Zach stiffen. “Aaron Drake saved the city once from a terrible monster. Are you related to him?”
“Aaron Drake?” It was Lydia who answered. “He’s our father.”
“The dragon-slayer is your father?”
“Dragon-slayer?” Lydia’s voice was sharp, and she turned to look at Zach, her eyes narrowed.
“Yes,” Zach said. His gaze met Lydia’s. “Remember the stories we heard about Father killing black, er, the black dragon?” He spoke softly, and in the silence that followed, Lleland shifted uncomfortably. Lydia finally leaned back in her seat.
“Of course,” she said. “I was forgetting that’s what they called him.” She looked back at Lleland. “What do you know of dragons?”
“They are …” He was about to say ‘monsters,’ but something held him back. “They are large, winged beasts that breathe fire,” he said instead.
Lydia smiled. “So I’ve heard,” she said.
“You must have seen them, surely? I understand there are some in the Northern Mountains.”
Lydia laughed. “Oh, we see them all the time,” she said.
“You do? They haven’t attacked you?”
“Attacked us? Of course not! Why would they do that?”
“Because they’re hunters.”
Lydia harrumphed. “Really, Master Seaton, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear! Dragons are not cruel monsters, you know!”
Lleland bit his lip and glanced at Zach, who shook his head, but Lydia seemed not to notice. “They are no different from you and me, really,” she said. Lleland swallowed the harsh retort that sprang to his lips.
“Let’s play a game,” Zach said. “Lydia, you always have the best ideas. What do you suggest?”
Lleland glanced at Lydia to see her watching him curiously.
“How about charades?” she said.
Chapter 7
Hannah and Sam were dragged from the kitchen to join in the game, and des
pite his earlier mood, Lleland found himself enjoying himself as the evening wore on. It wasn’t the game, though, that kept him enthralled, but rather the beautiful woman sitting across from him. He watched Lydia as she acted her roles; and when she sat and watched the others, clapping and laughing, Lleland kept casting glances her way. Her golden eyes reflected the light of the flames, making them sparkle, and to Lleland it seemed that she glowed like an angel. Sometimes her eyes met his, and she smiled. Later, when the game was done, she asked his opinion about a book she was reading, and he could feel the heat from her skin caress his own as they spoke. It was a book of Roman history, and Lleland was surprised at the depth of her knowledge. When the church bells tolled the midnight hour, Lleland felt a sharp pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close.
“Will you return to Civitas after Christmas?” he asked Lydia as Zach rose to take his leave.
“I’ll be traveling with my aunt and uncle.”
“Ah.”
“But I come to the city often. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
Lleland smiled. “I very much hope so, Mistress,” he said. He stared into her eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her, then reluctantly turned away and followed Zach through the door.
“We’ll be gone at first light,” Zach told Lleland as they walked through the dark streets. The rain had turned to snow, and large flakes, soft and silent, tumbled through the air to cling to their clothes and melt on the street. “I dare say Lydia will be happy to leave, as she isn’t fond of the city.”
“Oh?”
“She prefers the mountains.” Zach glanced at Lleland. “I heard what she said, but the truth is she seldom ventures into Civitas.”
Lleland nodded, disappointed. Despite her naiveté about dragons, he wanted a chance to know Lydia better. He could not remember when last he had been so fascinated by a woman. In addition to being the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, she was intelligent, self-assured and amusing, belying her youth. And her strange eyes had depths that demanded exploration. Zach had eyes the same color, Lleland mused, but whereas his were disconcerting, hers were mesmerizing. When he lay on his bed later that night, it was her smiling visage that rose in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.
Lleland left his chambers later than usual the following morning to find the passages a flurry of activity as students got ready to leave for the holidays, but by midmorning the last man had made his departure, and Lleland breathed a sigh of relief as peace and calm descended over the building. It was the eve of Christmastide, and Lleland had promised his mother to deliver some game for the Christmas feast. Removing his Master’s cape, he pulled on some sturdy boots and left the building, bow in hand.
It was a dull day, with low clouds that threatened rain. Within the city the snow from the previous evening had already been churned to brown slush by the passing of many feet. Going through the city gate, Lleland crossed the open countryside and made his way into the forest. His thoughts, however, were not tending towards hunting. Rather, it was the memory of Zach’s sister that rose in his mind, and once again he felt the pang of regret that he would have no opportunity to further his acquaintance with her. He laughed a little under his breath. He was no young lad, falling head over heels in love, but there was something – her beauty, grace and charm, not to mention her intelligence and confidence – that attracted him. The only flaw he had so far detected was her opinion of dragons. He smiled wryly. Of all the woman he’d ever met, she was the one who might actually fulfill his mother’s hopes for his marriage, if only she didn’t live so far away. It surprised him that Anabel still nurtured such a hope. He hadn’t found anyone to marry in his first thirty-five years, so why did she think anything would change? It hadn’t been for lack of interest, however. As a young man, Lleland had been eager for the warmth and comfort of a comely wife, and his eye had fallen on more than one pretty maid. But it never took long before he grew weary of their simpering ways and simple conversation.
“You expect too much,” Anabel told him. “As long as she can cook and clean, she’ll make you a good wife.”
But try as he might, he could not put his expectations aside, until finally one day he realized that all the young, single maids were no longer young or single. He had given up the thought of marriage then, surprising himself with how easily he accepted the idea that he would remain a bachelor. There were a few passing fancies over the years, but no-one that he could seriously consider as an equal whom he wanted to marry. That was, until now. Despite having just met Lydia Drake, he was certain she was a woman who would prove to be more than just a pretty face. He sighed to himself. He would have enjoyed putting his theory to the test.
Lleland stopped to find his bearings. He had walked deep into the woods, and was not far from Grim’s old cottage. He tested the breeze and listened intently, then headed towards a low rise. There was a salt lick just beyond, and the wind was blowing the right direction for him to lie undetected and observe whatever creatures happened by. A half hour later he was rewarded when a small herd of deer wandered over to the lick. He watched them for a moment, then lifted his bow. He took aim and released the arrow. It was a clean shot and the creature was dead within minutes, averting any needless suffering.
Lleland skinned and cleaned the animal with a knife he kept tucked in his boot, then sliced the meat into large pieces for roasting, and wrapped them into pieces of cloth which he laid in a sack. Within a short time he was hefting the sack over his shoulder and heading back towards the city. He turned into Tottley Alley some time later and made his way to Anabel’s house, knocking and pushing the door open at the same time.
“Mother?” he called.
“In here.” He turned towards the kitchen, where he dropped his offerings on the floor. Anabel was sitting on a low stool peeling turnips, which she put aside as Lleland came in.
“Hello, dear,” she said. “Have you brought us our Christmas feast?”
“I have,” he replied with a smile. He bent down and kissed her cheek, watching as she picked up another turnip. Her hands were trembling as she applied a small knife to the pale surface.
“You’re still not sleeping,” he said.
She smiled back wearily. “It’ll pass. Dame Thornton has given me a sleeping draught.”
“You still dream of the dragon?”
“I dream of dragons, but they do not come for me. In my dreams they come for you.”
Lleland dropped to his knees before her. “I’ll kill any dragon that comes after me.”
“But that’s just it, son. They surround you, but you don’t see them.” She dropped the knife and lifted her hands to her face. “I’m worried for you,” she said. “I wish you’d leave the dragons be.”
Lleland snorted. “And allow the monsters that killed Father to live? You’re letting your fears play with your mind, Mother. How could dragons possibly surround me without me seeing them? You’ve nothing to worry about.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head onto his shoulder as tears slid down her cheeks. “Shh,” he soothed. “You need to slow down and get some rest.” He pulled away from her as he recalled something a colleague had once said about his wife needing to escape the city. “Do you remember Rutherford?” he said. “My colleague at the university.”
Anabel nodded. “He was your Master before you graduated.”
“Yes. That’s him. He mentioned an inn in the country once, better than most. He sometimes takes his wife there when they need a break from the city. We’ll go and stay there for a few days. The clean country air will be just the thing to chase away your fears.”
“Go out of the city? Can we do that?”
Lleland laughed. “Of course. I have a little money set aside for just such a need as this. And with the college closed for Christmastide, the timing is perfect! We’ll spend tomorrow with Edith, and leave the following morning. I’ll arrange everything. You just need to be ready to go.” He rose to his fee
t, sure of his course of action. It was exactly what Anabel needed to chase away her thoughts of dragons.
Chapter 8
Christmas morning dawned clear and cold. Hoar frost clung to the trees, sparkling in the dull light of the winter sun. Lleland had risen later than usual, after accompanying Anabel to midnight mass the night before, and was now on his way to the house on Tottley Alley. The snow crunched beneath his feet as he walked, and cold seeped into his boots. By the time he reached the house, he could no longer feel his toes.
Edith was in the kitchen when Lleland arrived, helping Anabel and Eve prepare the Christmas feast. Eve would soon be gone, having been granted the afternoon hours off to spend with her family. Alan was seated in the parlor, perusing Father’s book.
“Ah, Lleland, there you are. How goes the teaching?” Alan was a dozen years older than Lleland, and made a good living as a wine merchant. His marriage to Edith had been his second, his first wife having passed away in childbirth. The baby had not survived either, and Alan had turned his attention to building his business until he met Edith, barely more than a child at the time. He had been instantly smitten, and within months Edith was a married woman. The first of their offspring had arrived ten months after the wedding, and Edith spent her days in perfect contentment as a devoted wife and mother.
“Teaching goes well, thank you Alan,” Lleland replied. “But my concern lies with Mother. She hasn’t been sleeping well.”
Alan nodded. “Edith’s also worried. It’s the memory of that dragon, that’s what it is.”
“I think a removal from the city may help ease her mind. I’m planning to take her away for a few days.”
“Good idea,” Alan said. “Is there anything I can do? Do you need funds?”
“Thank you, but no. I have a few arrangements to make, and will leave once we’re finished our meal.”
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