The Dragon Knight's Soul

by D. C. Clemens

  Stopping his reading of a document to give me his paternal attention, he asked, “What can an old father do for his naval princess?”

  I was less nervous before the sea battle. I gulped and said, “Father, I need you to help me convince Mercer to take me on his nismerdon search.”

  His gaze became far too paternal. He leaned back on his chair and scratched his stubble. “And why would I do such a thing?”

  “Because it will help me, Alslana, and our dragon knight ally.”

  “And how’s that?”

  “It’s only been a handful of sessions, but I know Mercer’s dragon flame will strengthen my shield like few other techniques can. I want to take advantage of that so I can help Beatrice summon Mytariss, but since he can’t stay here long, I wish to join him.”

  Not one to sigh or shake his head, he simply said, “I’m sorry, darling, but I cannot indulge such a wish. You can continue training here. It may be slower, but-”

  “A hundred times slower! I’ve exhausted every training method here. Mercer’s power is challenging, yet it’s still nearer my level than your bow attacks. Furthermore, if I can refine my holy prana enough, I’ll be able to purify Mercer’s brother, and any other poor soul the Advent have enthralled in their corruption. Or can your lightning arrows cure such a condition?”

  “In a sense. Your intentions for yourself and others is noble, but if anyone in this room can help the dragon knight defeat the Advent, it’s still me and my bow, pure intentions or not.”

  “And so you admit your intentions aren’t so, so righteous? That seeking vengeance for the dead could forsake the living?”

  “Aye, I’m familiar with the passage.”

  “And yet you get to r-refuse the wisdom of the g-gods?” He leaned forward when he heard my lips tremble. “Do you b-believe you’re the only one in this family w-who wants to avenge Mother? You were hundreds of miles away when it happened, but I was in the same room! I saw her die! I still see it every night!”

  It took me a few moments to realize that I had crumpled to the ground in tears and was being rocked in my father’s arms. I wanted to pull away at first, but I enjoyed releasing my grief while his wide warmth engulfed me.

  His lips pressed on to my forehead when he sensed his comfort bringing me relief. I wiped my tears on his clothing, patches of which were already damp from my crying.

  Breaking our forlorn concord, he said, “I’m so, so sorry you beheld such a horrendous sight. I’d bear your nightmares if I could.”

  “But you can’t, so help me another way.”

  He helped me to my feet, then maneuvered both of us to sit on his bed. Placing an arm over and behind my shoulders, he said, “I’ll help Alslana by keeping its royal bloodline safe.”

  “Then stay here. Protect daughters who can’t fight for themselves. Train Elisa. She would so love that. And Beatrice trusts your judgment more than mine.”

  “But I could have done little better myself.”

  “I almost led us to disaster.”

  “Even the best decisions under the best circumstances can lead to such an outcome.”

  “That doesn’t ease my conscious.”

  “It wasn’t meant to. Simply a fact of war and life.”

  “Do you not at least see reason in my request?”

  “Of course I do, but the fact of the matter is, there’s no guarantee you will become strong enough fast enough.”

  “Even if I know I will?”

  “Did the seer tell you that?”

  “I don’t need a seer to know that seizing this moment is what’s right for me, for everyone. Haven’t you ever had that feeling? Knowing in your heart when something is right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Haven’t you ever needed someone to trust you?”

  “Every time I fight with someone beside me.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  He leaned in to kiss the top of my head again. “Astor women are as beautiful as they are tenacious. I cannot concede just yet, but what if I promise to speak with you and Master Eberwolf about the matter tomorrow? I imagine his word counts for something.”

  “You expect him to be your supporter, correct? Fine, then add Beatrice as well. If she had to choose who stays and who goes, she will choose for you to stay.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. As an Astor woman herself, she knows how important it is for our bloodline to summon Mytariss. I’d still rather convince you without forcing her hand, but if all else fails, I’m prepared to get her on my side.”

  “Your mother also used her Astor name against me.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Less often than you’d think, more often than I would have liked… So be it. We’ll discuss this tomorrow, before Beatrice begins seeing her visitors.”

  “Okay, good enough.” I hugged him. “For now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mercer

  I slept early so I woke up early. The formal breakfast was still an hour in the future by the time I finished my toilet, but I figured I could sneak in a quick meal before the aristocratic crowd made their way down. When I opened my door, one of the two guards at the end of my hall marched his way up to me.

  After a bow, he said, “Lord Dragon Knight, the queen has requested your presence in her private sitting room. Her sister, Princess Odet Astor, and her father, Lord Hallam, will also be present.”

  All three wanted to speak with me? This had to be about my upcoming journey. I couldn’t imagine Odet had already convinced her father to replace himself with his daughter. Not to mention Beatrice would probably need convincing as well. Was she trying to convert us all at once? Or did she have her family persuaded already and now intended to overwhelm me with their agreement?

  Fuck it. Like Aranath said, it wasn’t up to them.

  To the guard returning to his post, I said, “Wait. Can you deliver a message for me?”

  “Aye, milord.”

  “Gods help me… Tell Odet she can join me when I begin my journey tomorrow, and tell her I said ‘gods help me.’ Oh, and tell her I did this…” I turned to face the smooth stone wall and not so lightly hammered its surface with my forehead. “Ow, fuck. If anyone still insists on talking to me, they can find me training outside the High Guard barracks. Got all that?”

  “Er, yes, milord.”

  “Good. Take your time delivering the message. Let’s give it another half hour. Pretend I’m still sleeping.”

  “Milord?”

  “It’s all right, guardsman. A little extra waiting never hurt anyone, especially when spite is a motivating factor.”

  I patted his silver pauldron and walked past him to get to the stairs. I doubt the guardsman waited the full half hour, but I wasn’t that serious, anyway. As I inferred in the message, I forwent breakfast. I instead strode straight to the barracks in the hopes to bang my sword—rather than my head—against something.

  Instructor Hoff stood alongside a large mud puddle barking orders and advice to a dozen youths when I came up to him. Moments afterward and the youths witnessed their mentor and a dragon knight clashing with real steel. The old man’s legs had little chance to outflank mine, but his sword arm made up for his relapsed mobility. Not that he was slow. His speed came from the experience of knowing how and when his opponent would swing and lunge, and he could still send the occasional prana burst to his limbs to surprise both observer and opponent.

  For those keeping track of the quick smacks and blows that landed on our exposed armor, they would have counted more successes for the instructor during our spirited warmup. Yet more reminders that so many aspects of my training needed polishing. It really was dragon flame or nothing for me. Eh, maybe I was being too hard on myself, but what is and what one feels is rarely the same thing.

  Going by the hushing youths, I discerned a royal or two was incoming. That gave me the impetus to land the last whack before the approaching Odet forced us to stay our blades.

  Before she
spoke, I asked, “How’d your father take it?”

  “A little surprised, a little angry.”

  “That makes two of us. I should thank you, in a way. I usually don’t feel all that much outside a fight, but this is progress.”

  “You’re welcome? Listen, I know you’re annoyed, but you made this choice because you know it’s what’s best for both of us. You’ll see.”

  “Remind me.”

  “What?”

  “Remind me why I’m bringing you.” I showed her a dragon stone.

  “Oh, I’ll go change.”

  “Nope, now.”

  “But I’m still in a dress.”

  “Well, sometimes a fight can start with one’s trousers down.”

  I tossed up the stone and triggered it. Dragon fire poured down to meet transparent ward. That got the youths excited again. Others in the barracks gathered outside when they saw what was going on. I experienced a boyish gladness pushing the princess into the mud, getting her black velvet shoes and her green dress caked with half-dried mire. Of course, the princess cared nothing about her wardrobe and footwear once her warrior’s instincts took over.

  A few minutes of sparring later and the spectators once again fell silent with the appearance of Eudon. He stayed in the periphery as he watched me fling flame and kicks at his daughter’s shield. He watched as Odet splattered mud into the air by slamming her ward on to the ground to get flecks of muck into my vision. I split what was left of my flame and sent them on my flanks, where they exploded on to the wards I assumed were coming. Less expected was the handle end of a dagger flying toward my chest. I dodged a direct hit by turning sideways, but it still grazed my left arm.

  Seeing as she brought weapons into the equation, a frontal assault from her next ward was countered by my sword. It required all my strength to slice the ward in half. Rather than block my next surge of fire, she ran toward it and used the slick ground to slide under it. From a slit in her dress she drew a dagger and flung it at the same time momentum rose her body back up. At such a close distance I could only react by deflecting the projectile with my sword, tying me up long enough for her to cast and shove a ward four feet away from her target.

  I had to punch the ward with my sword hand to prevent it from smashing into me at full force. Since she cast the ward with speed in mind, the attack-shield wasn’t so hardy. It frayed apart with a shock to my body. Things would have been dire for me if my opponent had another weapon on hand. As it was, we only stared at each other as the airborne mud splashed back on to the ground.

  “Master Hoff,” said the former king with an outstretched hand. “Your sword.”

  As the instructor walked over to hand over the sword, Eudon’s murderous eyes dared mine to flinch. I wanted to confirm that his mouth wasn’t frothing and his fingers remained clawless, but it took everything in my being just to keep my eyes steady on his own. Since my ears only heard the squelching of the mud beneath Eudon’s boots, I could only guess that Odet’s moving lips said something contrite as she backed away from her replacement.

  I think I fought admirably for the first twenty seconds. The next two hundred went less well for me. The only reason I lasted that long was Eudon knowing he needed to pull some of his blows if he did not want to crack bone. Perhaps he also did not want to humiliate me in front of everyone in this contest of brawn. In the end, however, I laid on my ass and could not get it back up.

  The victor, accomplishing his goal of adding regret to every pore of my body, stood over me and said, “Make her stronger than I, Lord Dragon Knight.”

  I looked up to nod before going back to sucking in deep drafts of air. With the sword returned, the justifiably agitated father ambled back toward the palace grounds proper.

  Odet hurried to get alongside me. She offered her hand and asked, “Are you all right?”

  “Yes… I’m gonna… I’m gonna stick to the ground for a bit.”

  “I’m going to go change, then. Please, don’t judge Father with too harsh a-”

  “Had to be done.”

  “Oh, well, I’m glad you’re not taking it to heart. Anyway, we’ll be gone long enough for him to ultimately respect your choice.”

  “Really? You’re throwing that back in my face?”

  “I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it! Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

  As I watched her rush out of the training grounds, I came to comprehend that this choice I made had no middle ground. It was either the best choice of my life—or the absolute worst.

  At least on this first day, the result leaned toward the former when Odet came back with Elisa and Bell in tow. Training with them and Hoff helped me forget about the deep bruises Eudon left—eh, for an hour, anyway. Ghevont made an appearance when I asked a guard to bring him over so he could look at my most tender spots. His hands, glowing with a yellow spell that enhanced his sensitivity, pressed into my skin and concluded that I had a bruised liver. He would give me a personalized concoction to dull the pain and heal the mild contusion within a few days.

  Knowing this would be their last chance to see me for a long while, Clarissa brought over Ethan, Cat, and Marcela after the lunch hour. Gerard visited for a moment, but when Odet told him he would be joining her on my journey, he elected to spend his last hours in Alslana with his family. With no more room on the saddle, Odet told Bell that she was now in charge of guarding and training Elisa. This moment was also when Elisa learned of Odet’s intention to leave.

  Unlike her older sister’s knack for compelling arguments, Elisa could not convince me to bring her along. She did make two good points. She would not take up much room on the dragon, for one. Her size would likewise be useful in sneaking into small spaces and breaking into buildings. Notwithstanding these irresistible factors, the little Astor needed to be promised a future ride on Aranath, on top of my earlier promise to train her. With that agreed to, Elisa calmed down and realized she had to soak up as much time as possible with Odet.

  In the middle of my Dracera training, as Elisa’s heavy-eyed head rested on Odet’s lap, I thought it funny that the Advent were indirectly responsible for my favorite moments as much as they were directly responsible for my foulest.

  We cleaned up in preparation for the dinner hour, which Beatrice made an exclusive affair. Here is when Odet assured her father and the queen that any hint of Advent activity would not be acted on rashly. Not only would we send them a message, but I planned to use my designation to attract allies to the cause. Who these allies turned out to be depended on where we found ourselves. With allies in mind, Beatrice told me to see her in her sitting room after dinner so she could give me information on the state of the world.

  As for the queen’s father, Eudon seemed at ease, at least relative to the morning encounter. He had little to say in general, though. Like Elisa, he consumed Odet’s presence by sitting by her side and talking the most with her. I presumed their parting conversation would go well into the night.

  Beatrice would likely join in that farewell soon, but she remained reserved during the entire meal. On finishing her fish stew, all she did was excuse herself and leave for her room. I could have trailed her seconds later, but I preferred letting my food settle first. I waited until everyone else gobbled up what they wanted before heading to the queen’s sitting room.

  Throughout the dinner I tried reading how she felt about me agreeing to take her sister on a treacherous mission across Orda, but she gave me nothing to go on. My thoughts dwelled on her disposition as I made the short climb to her suite.

  The six High Guardsmen led by their captain had me wait in the narrow hall for a couple of minutes. Then three maidservants exited the sitting room and informed me that I could see the queen, the youngest one giggling from the undoubtedly naughty thoughts crossing her mind. A rare mood would have had me joining her.

  I entered a beige room with a vaulted ceiling twenty feet up. The ceiling sported gold leaf in the design of a thousand triangles, which sparkled in the
light that came from a great marble fireplace. Five big couches and three times as many chairs surrounded and faced a table under a reedy chandelier of silver. The three wooden legs of the table supported its glass top, which had been fashioned into the shape of a fish or whale. This sitting area lay within a round depression three feet deep.

  Sitting at the end of a purple couch opposite the entrance was Beatrice, her long hair freed from its updo confines. And while her velvety red, silver trim gown would be considered an ornate dress worthy of the most formal events for a well-to-do young woman, it served as the royal’s casual attire. Rolled up in her hands were two scrolls.

  I stepped down to the sitting area and referred to the scrolls when I asked, “What are those?”

  “Names and titles. Before you left for Gremly, I requested of your scholar a list of the forests you planned on visiting. I, in turn, asked for a list of notable people and groups who claim to own or have an interest in these forests. So, if you indeed find our enemy within them, then these personages might be where your first allies lie.”

  I grabbed the offered scrolls. “Thank you.”

  “Hmph, nonsense. Odet is the one giving you her shield and mind. The most I can do is give you a little information.”

  “You’re not upset I’m taking her instead of your father?”

  “Upset? No. Whether you were here or not both my father and Odet would seek ways to place themselves in harm’s way. Truthfully, perhaps I am glad you are taking her rather than him.”

  “How’s that?”

  “A fair question… Please, I don’t like having to look up at you. Sit. It’s a sitting room after all.”

  Due to the angle, I had to remove my scabbard from the belt so it wouldn’t get in the way. A quick assessment suggested I sit a foot away from her—not so close that she thought me presumptuous, but not so far that it precluded any presumptuous act by her. Ugh. Sitting distance might have been the dumbest thing I ever deliberated.