“You used your acquaintance with Zach to gain entry.”
Lleland looked away. “I did. I apologize for the deception, Master,” he said. He drew in a deep breath. “I’ll leave in the morning.” He started to rise, but Aaron waved him back down.
“Sit down, Lleland,” he said. Lleland paused, then slowly resumed his seat. “I’m disappointed, but not surprised. When the League first formed, they tried to convince me to join their cause, and when I refused, they still tried to garner information from me.” He smiled grimly. “Unsuccessfully, of course. I’m not demanding your departure,” he continued, “but I do want the truth. Why is Grant coming after me again now?”
Lleland ran his fingers across his brow before answering. “Lord Hindley thought you had some information.”
“The Lord Chamberlain? Hmm.” Aaron leaned back in his seat, his gaze intent. “What information does he think I have?”
“Hindley told the League that King Alfred was agitated about something before he left for war. He believes you told the king something of particular interest about dragons.”
“I see. And what is it that Hindley supposes I told the king?”
“He doesn’t know,” Lleland replied.
Aaron nodded. “It’s your move,” he said, glancing at the board. Lleland moved his rook up the side of the board. “So you were sent here to try and extract this information from me.”
“Yes. I already had my suspicions on how much, or little, you’d be willing to share with the League, and when I met you, it did not take me long to realize you would never do anything to aid our cause.”
“They’ll expect a report when you return,” Aaron said. “What are you going to tell them?” He moved took one of Lleland’s pawns with his bishop.
Lleland shrugged. “The truth. That you told me nothing new, and do not seek to kill the beasts.” He frowned. “Does Lydia know?”
“That you are a member of the League? No. She is completely unaware that such a league exists.” Lleland was surprised at how relieved he felt. “Are you still convinced you should be hunting dragons?” Aaron asked.
Lleland moved his knight, blocking Aaron’s bishop, as he considered his response. “I’ve spent my whole adult life in pursuit of that same aim,” he said. “Just because you’ve somehow managed to prevent these beasts from attacking does not change my mind.”
“Tell me, Lleland,” Aaron said, “how many times have you truly been in danger because of a dragon?”
“Many times.”
“Name them.”
“The first time was when my father was killed.”
“You were there?”
“Yes.” Aaron frowned, but remained silent. “The next time,” Lleland continued, “I was alone on one of the hills near Civitas when a dragon flew overhead.”
“Did it threaten you?”
“I didn’t give it a chance to threaten me,” Lleland said.
“You mean you killed it without provocation?”
“I killed it before it could kill me,” Lleland said. The fire in the grate roared as Aaron steepled his fingers and stared at Lleland. Leaning forward, Lleland moved his bishop across the board.
After what seemed an eternity, Aaron turned his gaze to the game and stroked his chin with his fingers. He leaned forward and reached for his queen. “If I were to give you the information you so earnestly seek, it would either fill you with such rage it could drive you mad, or it could convince you to completely change your views. I wonder which way you would go.”
Cold fingers wrapped around Lleland’s heart as Aaron leaned back in his seat. “Check,” he said. A quick glance at the board showed Lleland that his few remaining moves would still result in Aaron winning the game. He was, in fact, checkmated. He laid his king on its side, forfeiting the game, before glancing up at Aaron, who was watching him intently across the board.
The door opened, and Lydia and Keira entered the room laughing. Keira sat down on the arm of Aaron’s chair and wrapped her arms around him. “Hello, my sweet,” he said. He tugged her into his lap, tipping the chess board onto the floor in the process and sending the pieces flying as his hands slipped around her back and pulled her close, while Keira moved her hands to his cheeks and lowered her mouth to his. Lydia picked up one of the carved figurines and after a moment’s hesitation, gave it to Lleland.
“A gift,” she said, her voice low. Lleland glanced at the figure. It was the knight, but instead of a horse, the shape carved into the yellow wood was that of a dragon.
Chapter 21
“Be ready to go out early tomorrow morning,” Lydia told Lleland later that week. “And bring your bow.”
“Where are we going?” Lleland asked.
“You’ll see tomorrow,” Lydia said.
As instructed, Lleland was waiting for Lydia in the courtyard shortly after dawn the following morning, bow in hand and arrows in his quiver. The morning air was chilly, and Lleland stamped his feet in an effort to stay warm. He glanced around the yard as he waited, watching the guard that stood in the corner outside a small, squat tower. He had not slept well the previous night, and he rubbed his forehead to chase away the mild headache behind his eyes. The whispers of vague dreams played around the edge of his memory – a man, dressed all in black. His presence had been ominous, but Lleland had willingly gone to him. There was something about the man that was important, but Lleland could not remember what it was. The dream had startled him awake, though, and left in its wake a feeling of dread that had chased away further sleep.
Footsteps rang across the courtyard, and he turned to see Lydia.
“Come along,” she said, not pausing to wait for him. “No time for loafers.” Lleland quickly caught up with her, and they passed beneath the portcullis together.
“What’s in the guarded tower?” he asked.
She glanced at him. “Prisoners,” she said.
“You have prisoners? Why?”
She shrugged. “We hold them for the king,” she said.
She pointed across the mountains, where the clouds, painted pink by the rising sun, lay like a skirt beneath the mountain peaks, hiding the slopes. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she said.
“Yes,” he said, but he his gaze was on the woman at his side.
“Come,” she said, blushing slightly. “We have a long way to go.”
Lleland walked beside Lydia whenever the path allowed, and more than once his hand brushed against hers. He could feel the heat emanating from her skin, and when she looked at him, her golden eyes dazzled him. She wore a dark crimson gown, and her hair rippled over her back like a waterfall. She led him into a forest, and birds flittered from tree to tree as squirrels chattered.
“I’ll miss this when I leave,” Lleland said.
Lydia glanced at him. “You’re leaving?”
“I must leave eventually.” Lleland felt his chest tighten at the thought. “I have classes to teach.”
“Are the mountains all you’ll miss?”
Lleland looked at Lydia. Her eyes were blazing, reflecting the light of the sun as she gazed at him.
“No,” he said softly.
She stared at him for another moment, then turned back to the path. “It isn’t too much further,” she said.
They broke through the trees and crossed an open meadow with rising slopes on either side. In the distance Lleland could hear the roar of a waterfall. They passed beneath another canopy of trees, then stepped into a clearing. A dozen feet away was a small cliff where the river tumbled over a ledge of flat rock. The rock overhung the river, creating a small, calm pool behind the curtain of water.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Lydia said. “Swimming behind a waterfall seems so private. As though I’m in my own little world.”
“Do you come here with Zach?”
“No. Zach doesn’t enjoy swimming. I’m not sure he even knows about it.”
“And yet you brought me here.”
Lydia looked at him,
meeting his gaze. “Yes.” She kicked off her boots and sat down at the water’s edge. Lleland sat down beside her. “Ready to go for a swim?” she said.
He grinned, then wrapping his arms around her waist, flung them both into the cool current. He kept his eyes open as they plunged to the depths of the pool, watching as hers widened in surprise. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, and he brought them both back to the surface. She gulped in a deep breath, then placing her hands on his shoulders, pushed him back beneath the water with a laugh. He grabbed her around the waist once more, dragging her down with him. Her hair floated around her face, and he stared at her through the water. Her gown drifted to her knees, and her bare legs brushed against his. He lifted his hand to her cheek as he stared at her through the water, then dragged his fingers against her lips. Even in the water, her skin felt warm. His feet touched the bottom, and he pushed with his toes and sent them drifting upwards. They broke the surface and for a long moment they stared at each other before she placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself away. She swam to the bank and lifted herself out. He followed more slowly, watching as she squeezed the hem of her gown. She turned to him as he reached the edge.
“My gown’s sopping wet,” she said. The words were light, but her voice trembled. Lleland lifted himself from the water and walked over to her.
“Lydia,” he said. Her hair hung in strands over her shoulders, and he touched it lightly.
“I can’t even take it off,” she said. “A wet chemise doesn’t hide much, you know.”
He stepped closer and moved his hand to her cheek. She stared at him wide-eyed. “Lydia,” he said.
“I’ll miss you when you go,” she said, dragging her gaze from his.
“I don’t want to go.”
“You must.”
“Lydia – I love you. I want you to be my wife.”
“No.” She stepped back. “You’ve only known me for a few weeks,” she said.
“Months,” he corrected. “From the first moment I met you, I wanted to know you more. Part of the reason I came to the mountains was to see you.”
“We’re friends. Very good friends. And I …” She paused. “I hold you in great esteem. But you weren’t supposed to fall in love. You told me yourself you couldn’t love someone you didn’t respect.”
“Lydia, you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met. Smart, determined and beautiful. You are everything I could possibly wish for in a wife. Do I respect you? Absolutely! But more than that, I love you with my whole heart. I cannot bear the thought of losing you.” He paused, watching her. “Is esteem all you really feel for me?” he said. “Have I been a fool?”
She glanced back at him, her eyes shimmering. “It won’t work.”
“Why?”
“Because there are things about me that you don’t know. Things that will make you hate me.”
“No! Nothing will ever change the love I have for you.”
“You know how I feel about dragons. Do you love that?”
Lleland pushed a hand through his hair. “That’s just a difference of opinion.”
“Could you ever love a dragon?”
“I love you. What does it matter how I feel about dragons?”
“Because dragons are the reason we can never be together.”
Lleland shook his head. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He dragged in a deep breath. “Tell me you feel nothing for me.”
“Lleland, I …” She looked away. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. It won’t work. The love you feel now will soon turn to hate.”
“No. That’s impossible.”
Placing her hand on his cheek, she kissed him gently on the lips. Her eyes were shining as she turned and walked away. He reached for her hand, but it slipped through his. “Please, Lleland,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Go home. I need to be alone.”
“Don’t go,” he said, but she continued to walk away and didn’t look back.
Chapter 22
Lleland stood in the clearing, staring at the spot where Lydia had disappeared through the trees. His mind was numb as he struggled to understand what had gone wrong. He’d been so sure Lydia felt more than mere affection – why had she pushed him away? He laughed wryly to himself. After rejecting so many other woman, he was the one now being rejected. And all because of dragons. None of it made sense, but one thing was clear – he could not remain at Storbrook. He sat down on a rock and stared at the bow lying on the ground. He did not doubt his view of dragons, but how could Lydia have it so wrong? How could her truth be so different from his own? And how could it matter so much? His eye wandered to the pool behind the waterfall, and stripping off his clothes, he dived into the cold water. He wanted to wash away the pain of Lydia’s rejection, but her essence lingered in the cool current, and he pushed himself onto the bank in frustration.
He picked up his weapons, which he hadn’t even used, and glanced at the sun. It was a little past noon. The thought of returning to Storbrook was oppressive, and he turned in the opposite direction, eager to delay as long as possible. His mind was blank as he strode through the trees, and he missed a rustling in the bushes two dozen yards away.
A loud snort had him spinning on his heel to see a wild boar charging in his direction. The string of his bow was loose, and he cursed as it slipped through his fingers before he finally had it hooked onto the bow. The boar was an old fighter, with one long tusk blunted from years of use and the second broken halfway down, its splintered end far more dangerous than the undamaged tusk. The animal was barely yards away when Lleland notched an arrow and drew his bow.
The arrow hit the boar squarely in the chest, causing it to stumble. It squealed in pain but rose back to its feet and continued to charge. The brief falter gave Lleland enough time to draw another arrow, and it flew through the air to hit the boar in the neck. The creature dropped to the ground, swinging its head wildly through the air as its high-pitched squeals echoed between the trees, making birds take flight from the branches. A third arrow through the heart killed the animal, and Lleland dropped onto his knees beside it. It had been a close call, the result of a distracted mind. The animal was too large for him to carry back to Storbrook, but he sliced a thick hunk of meat from the boar’s flank before leaving the remains to the wolves and other animals that roamed the mountains. He carried the meat away from the carcass, then stopped to build a fire. He hadn’t eaten at all that day, and despite the events of the morning, his stomach growled in hunger. The meat was tough and stringy, and without salt to season it, was tasteless. It relieved his hunger, however, and gave him the strength to turn toward Storbrook again. It was already mid-afternoon and the castle still lay a few hours away.
The path to Storbrook led north, but to the east rose a high ridge, beyond which the mountains fell away in a vast panorama. He did not make a conscious decision to climb the ridge, but he was aware of a desire to see the view spreading before him one last time before leaving Storbrook and the Northern Mountains. The climb was easy at first, but became gradually steeper, until he was climbing almost vertically. He gained the height and looked out over the sweeping vista that spread in every direction.
A narrow path led to the next peak, and Lleland started towards it. The slopes of the mountain fell sharply away on either side of the path, and as he walked loose pebbles went tumbling down the side. He reached the base of the next peak an hour later, a crag of bare rock face that towered over him. He pushed his boots off his feet and slung his bow over his shoulder. With searching fingers he found a small crevice that would serve as a finger hold, and swung himself upwards. His fingers found another crack, and slowly he inched his way up the side of the rock face, swinging his hands between the cracks while his toes gripped the rock below. A glimmer in the distance caught his eye, but he ignored it as he focused on the wall above him. Inch by inch, he scaled the height, until finally he reached the top and pulled himself up on his stomach, lying for a moment as the bu
rning in his muscles slowly eased. As the pain ebbed away, he rose to his feet and looked around. The rock he was on was barely a dozen feet in length and width – like a small tabletop high above the clouds. He dropped his bow and arrows and walked to the edge of the precipice. A cool breeze lifted the hair from his neck, and he spread his arms, enjoying the feeling of absolute silence and space.
He gazed towards the infinite horizon, turning to take it in from all directions. An eagle soared on currents far below him, circling as it dropped lower. He watched it as it dived, disappearing between the trees. Storbrook’s golden walls lay in the distance, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun’s bright rays as he gazed at it. Another needle of rock rose even higher a short distance away, and he squinted to see a messy scattering of twigs covering the top. He walked to the edge and peered up, trying to spot an eaglet. He saw none, but before he pulled back, there was a whoosh from below, and the wing of an eagle brushed over his face as it soared towards its nest. He lurched back, his hands waving wildly as he sought to regain his balance.
Lleland’s foot slipped over the edge of the precipice, sending a scattering of stones tumbling down the side. His backside hit the edge and slipped forward. He slapped his palms against the rock but his hands slid over the smooth surface, unable to find purchase. A yell escaped his mouth as he skidded from the rock and started falling through the air, his arms and legs flailing as his heart pounded furiously.
A roar filled the air a moment before a snake-like cord, covered with gold scales that glittered in the sunlight, lashed around Lleland’s waist, halting his fall. The side wrapped around him was smooth, but facing outwards were sharp spikes that curved like the thorns on a rose. He groaned as his eyes followed the long, golden length to the large, sleek body it was attached to. “From one certain death into the jaws of another,” he muttered. The dragon’s long neck curved gracefully downwards, and above the clamped jaws, fiery eyes glared at him. He closed his eyes and prayed that his death would be quick and painless.
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