by Jenna Payne
“Wait here,” instructed Arken, dismounting from his horse and walking cautiously towards the cottage. Arken knocked at the door and after a few moments, the door was opened by an elderly man.
Watching from a distance, Kirian and Tabor could see Arken talking with an old man, eventually waving them forward.
“We can spend the night here,” confirmed Arken.
“This is very kind of you,” said Kirian, as the old man helped to secure the horses.
“It’s nothing,” smiled the old man, his eyes sparkling, as he ushered them into the cottage. “I don’t often get visitors as special as you.”
“Oh, we’re not special,” deflected Kirian. “We’re just travelling through, heading back to our farm.”
“My dear boy, you’ve never set foot on a farm,” smiled the old man. “And as for your noble young friend here…” he said, looking pointedly at Tabor, “well, you all seem a long way from home.”
“You are very perceptive old man,” cut in Arken, “but enough questions. The less you know about our business the better.”
The next morning, Arken roused Kirian and Tabor early so that they could continue their journey.
“Thank you for your kindness,” smiled Kirian, shaking the old man’s hand. “What should we call you?”
“Albertus,” smiled the old man. “Here, I have a gift for you.”
Albertus reached into one of his pockets and presented him with a thin silver chain.
“It’s beautiful,” admired Kirian. “But honestly, I couldn’t accept it. You’ve been so generous already, you don’t need to give us anything.”
“Take it,” insisted Albertus. “Silver will help keep you pure, silver will help ward off those who seek to harm you. Silver shimmers in the sun and shines in the light of the moon.”
“It sounds like magic!” gasped Kirian.
“My boy, magic is a word that people use when they are unable to explain what they are seeing and feeling,” said Albertus, carefully securing the chain around his neck. “Safe travels my friends… my door is always open to you.”
*****
The sound of barking dogs broke through the stillness of the forest as they rode silently through the trees.
“Let’s pick up the pace,” urged Arken. “That sounds like a pack of hunting dogs. I’m guessing that they’re hunting us.”
After several miles of hard riding, the trail that they were following led them towards a large house. Arden pulled to a stop just on the edge of the clearing.
“It looks like some sort of estate,” observed Tabor. “Should we just avoid it and keep going?”
“We could do with some grain for the horses, as well as some food for ourselves,” said Arken. “Why don’t you go and see if you can find anyone? See what sort of reception you get, Prince Kirian and I will remain concealed here. Do not reveal your identity. We have no idea where the loyalties of these people might lie.”
Arken and Kirian watched closely as Tabor slowly rode into the grounds of the estate.
“Are you sure those hunters are chasing us?” asked Kirian, as Tabor rode out of sight.
“We have to assume that they are,” shrugged Arken. “If your uncle has put a bounty on your head, then we have to assume that everyone is chasing us–even people that you may think are your friends. We have no way of knowing how long your uncle has been planning this coup.”
“I wish my father had talked with me more about the affairs of state,” sighed Kirian. “Any time that I asked questions he said that I was too young to understand and that he would tell me everything when I was older.”
“You have the gift of your family, don’t you?” asked Arken quietly, almost as if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer.
“Yes,” replied Kirian. “I have the gift, but my powers are still growing. My tutor, Davidon, had only just begun my instruction.”
“Perhaps that’s why your uncle acted when he did?” suggested Arken. “Trying to neutralize you before you unlocked your full power?”
“It’s possible…” he nodded. “It wasn’t widely known, although because of the history of my mother’s family there was always rumors and speculation.”
“Does Tabor know?” asked Arken.
“I don’t know,” he replied, shaking his head. “I imagine that my father may have spoken with his closest confidants about me, but Tabor has been away. It’s possible that he doesn’t have any idea. I’ve been trying to stay alert, to see if he says or does anything that indicates that he knows, but so far I haven’t been able to detect anything. If he doesn’t know then it’s probably best not to tell him. I don’t want to frighten him.”
“Why would it frighten him?” asked Arken.
“Well, most people don’t feel particularly safe around a shape-shifter…” shrugged Kirian. “Particularly a shape-shifter that turns into a dragon.”
“I’ve never met anyone before who was a shape shifter…” observed Arken, “I’d always heard stories that your family were dragons, that somehow dragon blood had entered the bloodline of your family. Is that true?”
“I can’t say for sure,” sighed Kirian. “No one really seems to know how it happened. It’s possible that it is some sort of infection, or perhaps a curse, or some kind of magic. I’m hoping that my grandfather will be able to shed some light on it all when we reach the safety of Castle Drakon.”
“So is there such a thing as dragons?” asked Arken, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“The only dragons that I’ve ever met have been shape-shifters like me who can take the form of a dragon–but maybe that’s all that dragons have ever been,” said Kirian.
“Can you become a dragon whenever you want?” pushed Arken.
“I’m still only learning how to unlock my power,” he confessed. “I think that once I mature a bit more I’ll have a lot more control, but at the moment things are fairly unpredictable.”
“I guess I was wondering why you didn’t use your shape-shifting abilities to transform into a dragon the night that your uncle seized control of the Castle Vacheron and imprisoned your family,” pondered Arken.
“I thought about it,” nodded Kirian. “But my tutor Davidon counselled against it. He felt that I didn’t have sufficient control and could do more harm than good. That’s one of the reasons that getting to Castle Drakon is so important for me. If my grandfather can help me to harness my powers then I will be able to return to the Garnet Valley and unleash my wrath on my uncle Silas. My fire will rain down on him and I will tear his armies apart. If he dares to harm my parents, my vengeance will be swift, brutal, and unrelenting. I will wipe his name from the memory of these lands and his life will become so meaningless that it will be like he has never existed.”
“Your skin is glowing,” observed Arken.
“What?” asked Kirian in surprise.
“Your skin. It’s glowing,” repeated Arken. “As you were getting angrier and angrier it was like a furnace was beginning to burn inside you.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t frighten me,” said Arken. “It was strangely beautiful.”
*****
“What did you find?” asked Arken, as Tabor returned from his investigation of the house.
“It looks okay…” replied Tabor. “It’s a hunting lodge for some wealthy land owners. They’re not here, but I’ve spoken with the steward and he is happy to let us rest and water the horses in exchange for some coin.”
“Perfect,” said Arken, nodding. “Lead the way.”
The three fugitives soon had their horses unsaddled and a table was laid for them to eat.
“So where are you heading?” asked the steward, joining them at the table.
“West,” replied Arken. “Back to our farm there.”
“Unusual to be travelling along the old forest trail,” observed the foreman. “Why don’t you take the main road?”
/> “There seems to be a lot of soldiers on the road at the moment,” shrugged Arken. “We’re simple folk. It’s easier to keep out of the way of trouble.”
“You know, I had some hunters through here yesterday,” said the steward.
“Oh?” replied Arken, biting into the bread and cheese on his plate, attempting to appear uninterested.
“Yes…the hunters, they were hunting people,” continued the foreman. “Traitors from the castle–a man and a boy. The hunters were offering a hefty reward for their capture. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Like I said,” replied Arken, “we’re simple folk, we don’t get involved in the politics of the castles.”
“I’ve never seen a farmer carry a sword like yours…” said the foreman. “Can I see it?”
“If you ask me any more questions I will show you my sword as it slices through your neck!” growled Arken.
“Let me pay you for your trouble sir,” offered Tabor, stepping in front of Arken to defuse the situation.
With the transaction complete, the three men quickly mounted their horses and resumed their journey along the old forest trail.
“It won’t take long for him to get a message to the hunters that he spoke of,” observed Arken, keen to put as much distance as possible between them and the hunting lodge.
“If they know that we’re on this trail then won’t their dogs be able to track our scent?” asked Tabor.
“Yes, you’re right,” acknowledged Arken, “but I’m not sure what options we have–the main road is definitely too dangerous.”
“Let’s push deeper into the forest,” suggested Tabor. “If we walk the horses through the water in the creek then we might be able to make it harder to follow our scent.”
“Agreed,” said Arken.
They could only make slow progress, but the horses tentatively picked their way along the narrow bed of the creek, dodging loose stones and pot-holes.
“There are fish swimming between the legs of the horses,” observed Kirian. “Should we try and catch some?”
“Let’s focus on getting somewhere safe first,” instructed Arken. “We’re going to need to find a place to camp within a few hours, I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night, without much sleep.”
The sound of barking dogs floated on the breeze that stirred through the leaves of the forest.
“Let’s continue to follow the creek for as long as we can…” instructed Arken, “Those dogs sound too close for comfort.”
At the first opportunity, the three fugitives found a small clearing where they made their camp as night fell. Arken volunteered to take first watch. He stoked the coals of the fire while Tabor went to check on the horses. Prince Kirian quietly curled up beside the fire and promptly fell asleep.
Sitting beside the campfire, Arken watched the sleeping prince. Arken couldn’t quite believe that he was in the presence of a shape-shifter, a dragon. He had always heard rumors and stories, but he never believed them.
“See how the flickering flames are reflected in his eyes?” observed Tabor quietly, returning to the campfire where Arken was seated. “It’s hard to imagine that so much power could be contained within the body of that boy.”
“Power?” asked Arken. “You know?”
“My father told me,” said Tabor, nodding. “I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but it’s really the main reason that I came back. My father made me swear to protect the prince. Our family’s allegiance to the bloodline of Castle Drakon runs deep.
“Have you ever seen a shape-shifter change before?” asked Arken. “Have you ever seen one in dragon form?”
“I have,” said Tabor. “It’s somehow terrifying and thrilling at the same time.”
“Is it true about their appetite for men?” asked Arken, “I’ve heard stories, that they devour men, that they feast on them, body and soul. Is that true? Are we placing ourselves in danger?”
“You have been listening to too many fairytales!” laughed Tabor. “It is true that as they mature, shape-shifters develop seemingly insatiable appetites, but as far as I know those appetites are purely sexual.”
“I’m taking it that you’ve had some firsthand experience in that regard?” asked Arken.
“When the prince asked if I had been away, I actually told him a lie when I said that I had been training in his uncle’s army,” confessed Tabor. “When I became of age my father didn’t sent me to the army of Prince Silas, instead he sent me to Castle Drakon.”
“Castle Drakon?” repeated Arken in astonishment. “You were there?”
“Yes,” confirmed Tabor. “I was sent to serve Prince Kirian’s grandfather, the ruler of the castle. He is known simply as Sarkan. Sarkan trained me. He trained me how to fight, and how to be a man, but he also trained me in how to serve, how to please, how to pleasure him. A day did not pass that he didn’t call me to his chambers. His affections were often brutal and rough but each day I would look forward to them–I would crave them.”
*****
The sound of barking dogs greeted the rising sun as the three fugitives were gathering themselves to continue their journey.
“They’re close!” observed Arken, mounting his horse. “Let’s ride!”
Arken led the way, spurring his horse forward to the forest trail that he hoped would continue to take them west towards Castle Drakon. They could still hear the barking dogs–always in the distance.
“It sounds like they’re out on the main road,” suggested Tabor, riding behind Arken. “Or behind us? Perhaps we have two separate packs trailing us?”
“They know that we’re heading west,” acknowledged Arken. “They must be covering every escape route possible.”
Suddenly the forest trail narrowed, and as they turned a corner, they were confronted by a large lake blocking their path.
“We’re trapped!” shouted Tabor. “We can’t turn back now–the hunters are on our tail!”
“Why don’t we cross the lake?” suggested Kirian.
“How?” demanded Arken. “Are you planning to fly?”
“Well, it might be possible,” he admitted. “But to be honest I haven’t quite mastered that yet. Actually I was thinking that we could just swim across with the horses.”
“It might work,” agreed Tabor. “But it will take some time to get the horses in the water.”
“You get the horses and the prince in the water,” Arken said to Tabor. “I’ll try and distract the hunters, and buy us some time!”
Following Arken’s instructions, Tabor and Kirian dismounted so that he could lead the horses into the water in readiness to swim across the lake that was blocking their path. The sound of barking dogs was drawing closer. Arken turned his horse back to the direction from which they had come and spurred it to a canter.
“You need to aim for that rock over there on the other side,” said Tabor. “We can’t swim too far or the horses will tire. Try and keep the heavy cloaks dry by tying them on top of the saddle. We’ll need to swim with the horses in order to lead them safely. Quickly now! Get started and begin swimming–I’ll wait here for Arken and then we’ll catch up to you.”
“You know, don’t you?” he asked Tabor. Tabor nodded, realizing that there was no point pretending to be naive.
“Could you take your dragon form and fly to the other side?” asked Tabor.
“I think so,” nodded Kirian. “But the thought of trying to do it scares me.”
“Well, we’d better stick to swimming for now,” concluded Tabor. “Quickly now–lead these horses into the water and get them used to the idea of going for swim.”
Kirian did as he was told and began leading the two horses into the water in readiness to begin swimming as soon as Arken returned. Tabor looked down the forest trail, hoping to see some sign of Arken. All of a sudden there came loud shouting.
“Tabor! Your bow!” shouted Arken, rounding the corner, riding recklessly fast along the narrow trail through
the trees. “The dogs! Shoot the dogs!”
Tabor knelt, one knee to the ground to steady his aim. He nocked his first arrow and waited for a clean shot. As Arken drew closer, Tabor could see a pack of large wolfhounds almost upon him–barking, snarling and snapping at the feet of Arken’s horse as it galloped along the trail in panic. Tabor released his first arrow and hit one of the dogs, felling it. He calmly nocked a second arrow and released it. Another of the wolfhounds fell to the ground. Tabor could see that Arken was also being pursued by men on horses. He contemplated targeting them instead of the wolfhounds, but instead decided it was best to follow Arken’s instructions. He let fly his third arrow and successfully brought down another of the hounds. A fourth arrow and a fifth arrow both found their mark, and finally the sixth arrow felled the last of the pursuing wolfhounds just as Arken skidded to a halt next to Tabor at the edge of the lake. Arken immediately spun around and pulled out his sword, spurring his horse back down the trail towards the pursuing hunters. Tabor nocked another arrow onto his bowstring but it was difficult for him to get a clear shot as Arken was hurtling down the forest trail with his sword held high.
There were four mounted huntsmen bearing down on Arken. The first of the huntsmen fell as Arken’s blade sliced through him. Then the second, the third, and the fourth–each of the men gave their life as they felt the punishment of Arken’s wrath, his rage unleashed by the danger, the adrenalin coursing through his body.
“I am Arken! I answer to no man!” shouted Arken wildly, waving his bloodstained sword above his head as he glared down at the bodies of the men that he had killed.
“Arken–we need to go!” urged Tabor, securing his bow and cloak to the saddle of his horse that was being held by Kirian. “There are bound to be more huntsmen on our trail–we need to keep moving!”
Arken quickly secured his cloak and sword to the saddle of his horse and immediately followed the prince and Tabor into the water.
“Nothing in this lake that we need to worry about?” shouted Arken to Tabor as they led their horses, swimming through the water.
