Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  “I know he needs you to help rid himself of his past.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Unless I kill him - that should rid him of his past, don’t you think?” She pulled the dress over her head, not bothering with an undertunic. Juturna buttoned all of the tiny eyelets that graced the back of the dress, and then helped Brynn pull the laces of the bodice tight.

  “No, you mustn’t kill him. If you do, the dragon will never be stopped. The dragon must die by his hand alone. He must die in order to live.”

  Brynn thought the old woman was more addlepated than the strange old man who’d wandered her father’s castle courtyard for years before he finally one day disappeared. He was always saying things about the dragon, never making any sense at all. He spoke of the dragon, but the dragon never came. Then one day, he disappeared into the mountains of Lornoon never to return. But now his prophesies of the dragon were true.

  “I can’t marry a man who’s killed my parents. I will do whatever it takes to bring him down.”

  “You do, and you will fall with him. You and he are the same now. You’d be wise not to fight him and his plans, or you fight yourself as well.”

  The old woman sat Brynn down on the bed, and pulled the crystal sphere from beneath her cloak and held it up.

  “You are of the elemental world, my dear. You should be able to feel in your heart what is or isn’t true. You should know if Drake really killed your parents or not. Look inside and see.”

  Brynn looked toward the sphere and just shook her head. “I have not the power of scrying as did my mother.”

  “I don’t mean for you to use the crystal. This sphere is for me to use, which I’ve already done. I know Drake didn’t kill your parents. But now you need to look inside yourself to see the truth and put your restless soul at ease.”

  “Nay!” Brynn turned away and crossed her arms over her chest. “He is the dragon’s son. He is a murderer. He is the one who killed my parents.”

  Suddenly, her words didn’t hold as much conviction. An ache in her heart told her what the old seer said was true. While she feared Drake and hated everything he stood for, she felt deep down there was a spark of goodness inside him somewhere. He hadn’t hurt her, when he very well could have. He’d instead saved her life from the dragon, risking his in the process. He hadn’t done anything to threaten her. He even gave her the dagger which she could have used against him. Though a horrid reputation, she’d yet to see this man do anything violent. Mayhap what the seer said was true. But even so, she wasn’t ready to admit it. Her parents were dead and someone had to answer for it. Drake was a conqueror and now held her father’s fief. That was enough proof for her.

  “You cannot deny yourself forever,” Juturna told her. “In time you will learn to accept the truth. I realize you are in pain and misery because of the loss of your parents, but do not hold Drake responsible for a crime he did not commit.” She took a pouch from her side. In it were herbal creams and ointments. She opened a jar and started to spread some on the rope burns that scarred Brynn’s wrists.

  “You are chafed, but you do not bleed. You burn from rope, but not from fire. Your heart burns as well, but for a man who threatens everything you stand for.”

  Brynn grabbed Juturna’s hand and stopped her application. She felt the anger rising inside herself, and fire sprang from her fingers, but the old seer could see the future and was prepared. She’d pulled away before she was burned.

  “I do not burn for him,” Brynn protested. “I hate him! I want nothing more than to see him perish by my own hand.”

  “You will be the one to perish at his hand if you don’t heed The Dragon’s fire.”

  “The dragon’s fire cannot harm me.”

  “Ah, this is so. But your own fires of vengeance and passion can consume you from within. And you are no different than Drake. Neither of you can control your anger. You need to work together or you both will cause your own demise. If you want to find the true killer of your parents, then help Drake with his quest, and in the process, he will be helping you with yours. Do not push him away unless you want to fail.”

  She pushed away from the woman and stood. “I will do what it takes to find the one responsible for the death of my parents and see that they are punished. Even if it means staying at Drake’s side.”

  “Ahhhh.” The seer put the cream on the bedside table. “You are already listening to your heart. That sounded to me like a confession that you no longer believe Drake is responsible.”

  “It means nothing of the sort,” she said, feeling her face redden. The old seer was skilled at making a person seek out their own truth. “Drake is responsible for conquering Thorndale, and even if he wasn’t the one to take my parents’ lives, he will pay.”

  The old woman chuckled and headed for the door. “As you wish, my lady. And ’twill be interesting to see which of you submits first to your passionate deep desires.”

  “I don’t desire to lay with Drake.”

  “I never said you did. I spoke of passionate desires, but by your own confessions I see now that my suspicions are true. You do have a passion for what you think you can never have. You are just as smitten with Drake as he is with you.”

  Brynn’s fury was raised more by her own carelessness of words than of the seer’s proclamation. Once again, her uncontrollable emotions emerged, fire lapping at the door as Juturna closed it quickly.

  Brynn extinguished the flames before the room caught afire, and sank down on the bed. Mayhap the old woman was right in saying Drake didn’t kill her parents. She honestly hoped so. Because if she was wrong, Brynn would have a hard time trying to figure out why she was so attracted to the man.

  Drake waited at the bottom of the staircase, pacing back and forth, wondering what was going on above stairs. Once he saw the old seer emerge from the bedchamber, he took the steps two at a time to meet her half way.

  “What did you see old woman? Tell me everything.”

  “Her rope burns will heal. Apply the ointment twice a day to her wrists.” She pushed past him down the stairs.

  Drake hurried to catch up to her. “That’s not what I speak of, and you know it. Is she the one who can help me combat the dragon? Does she have what I need to stop the beast forever?”

  Juturna’s old, pale eyes sought his out. She didn’t use her gazing crystal to answer him.

  “I’ve known you since you were born, Drake of Dunsbard. You are a Pendragon. You have a fire burning within you that is out of control. Not at all unlike the feisty lady in your chamber. You must learn to control that fire before it destroys you. Brynn can help you, or she can hinder your success. The choice is yours as well as hers. But I do not need to look into my crystal sphere to know that you two were meant to be together.”

  “The myth is that I cannot stop the dragon unless I have the woman of fire by my side. Since she is this woman, I believe you are correct in saying we need to be together.”

  “It isn’t a myth. You must not only have her by your side, but she must become one with you in order for you to join with her powers. Only by this union will you two become strong enough to learn the secret to conquer Dracus, the dragon. You must take her as your wife - in every manner if you are to have any strength against the dragon at all.”

  “I plan on marrying her tomorrow. Then I’ll be able to stop the beast that threatens Lornoon.”

  “It’s not that easy, Dragon’s Son. You do not seem to understand. You must take her to your bed and become one with her before you possess the power to fight the beast.”

  “Consider it done.”

  She shook her head at his confidence, making him feel like a boy again.

  “So sure are you of your prowess. She must be willing to lay with you, or you will never learn the secret of stopping Dracus. Without her cooperation, you have no chance of winning this battle.”

  “She’ll never agree to that! Surely, you’re misreading what the gazing crystal holds.”

 
“I am not the one misreading anything. You are running out of time, Dragon. If the beast claims one more virgin, ’twill become so strong, there will be no chance of ever stopping it.”

  She hurried to the door and he followed. One of his guards opened the door for her to leave, but Drake stopped it with one mighty grasp of his hand.

  “And how am I supposed to convince Brynn to lay with me of her own accord?”

  The old woman laid a hand on his tunic. She shook her head once more. “First you’ll have to convince her that she doesn’t want to kill you. But by the looks of that scalding hot dagger clasped in her hand a few moments ago, I’d say you haven’t got much of a chance of convincing her of anything.”

  Drake lay his head against the door, closing his eyes in aggravation as Juturna disappeared into the storm. He was so close to stopping the dragon, but yet so far. Brynn would never even consider coupling with him of her own will. She hated him, and it would be a chore enough holding her down and forcing her to say the vows needed to join them in marriage. He hadn’t planned on this. This would surely slow him down. He was running out of time, and needed to think of some way to convince her that she wanted him.

  “My lord?”

  His eyes sprang open to see his squire, Asad, standing in the open doorway. His hair dripped water down the front of his soaked tunic, and his shoes sloshed as he walked.

  “Are you feeling ill?” asked Asad.

  “Ill-willed is more what I’m feeling at the moment, Asad. And there is only one woman to blame.”

  “Ah, I see.” Asad looked to the stairs, obviously understanding his meaning. He used his hand to swipe a stray, wet hair from his eyes. “Then I don’t suppose you’ll be heeding the request to meet with the Elders in Lornoon anytime soon.”

  “Meet with the Elders?” Drake’s curiosity peeked. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “They’ve sent a messenger from the village. He awaits your answer at the castle gate.”

  “In this weather?” Drake looked out the door toward the gate which was guarded by his men not only on the battlements but down below as well. The wind whipped his dragon pennants atop the towers and rain pelted down over the cobblestones of the courtyard, clicking off the stones and puddling in the low spots causing a small lake to form around the well. “What is it that’s so important it couldn’t wait until the sun comes out?”

  “It seems the Elders are demanding you return Brynn to them.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “She was their virginal sacrifice to Dracus,” he explained. “Without her, they fear the dragon will not be sated, and therefore destroy and consume their village and all within it.”

  Drake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Brynn was nothing more to them than an answer to a problem. They wanted to kill her needlessly, and he couldn’t allow it. He was here to stop the dragon and save lives, not bring people to their demise.

  “Well, they can’t have her.”

  “I agree, my lord, but the messenger is very persistent and said he’s been ordered not to leave without her.”

  Drake pushed past him, heading for the dryness and warmth of the great hall. Asad followed, shoes squishing in the process. Dinner was to be served soon and Drake didn’t want to be late. Saving damsels from dragons worked up a man’s appetite.

  “Well, tell them they’re going to have to find another virgin, as this one is not available. I plan on marrying her at daybreak, and she’ll no longer fill her virginal qualifications anyway.”

  “Sir? You are marrying the woman you rescued today?” Asad asked in surprise.

  “Aye, that’s what I said.” Drake looked to the ground. A puddle of water surrounded Asad, running right under Drake’s feet.

  “And I should tell them your message - about you planning to take her virginity and all?” Asad continued with his questions.

  “Egads, Asad, you are worse than a little old woman at times badgering me with all your questions. Now remove your dripping body from here at once and tell them to find another virgin if they really feel they need a sacrifice. But warn them I won’t be in a rush to save her if they’re only going to demand I return her afterwards.”

  “I will, my lord. Is there any other message you’d like to relay?”

  “Just the one to my squire to change into dry clothing before he sits at my table to sup.”

  Asad smiled, and turned to leave. Then, stopping in the doorway, he turned back one last time. “My congratulations on your betrothal, my lord. I wish you luck.”

  “It’s not a betrothal, Asad, as there are no promises involved. And for your information, I don’t believe in luck.”

  He shook his head and headed to the great hall. If there was such a thing as luck, he was sure his was going to be bad, where Brynn was involved.

  THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Drake finished his meal and watched the minstrels and performers without really seeing them. His mind was elsewhere. Such as on the feisty witch in his chamber who’d refused his invitation to dinner. Brynn already made him look like a fool to the rest of his men by not obeying him.

  “Shall I bring her meal above stairs?” Asad stood with platter in hand, at Drake’s side. Drake took one look at the tray loaded down with food and decided it was too good for the woman who disobeyed his orders.

  “No, Asad. If she insists on calling herself a prisoner, than I shall feed her like one.” He picked up a stale trencher of bread and a jug of ale. “I’ll take the prisoner something to eat, myself.”

  “But she refuses to let anyone into the room, my lord. She’s locked herself in and won’t come out.”

  Drake stood up from his meal, towering high upon the dais. The music stopped and all the castle’s occupants’ eyes were upon him.

  “Carry on,” he said with a wave of his hand. On command, the festivities continued. “Nobody, especially a woman is going to keep me out of my own bedchamber.”

  He left his squire and took the steps two at a time. He met the guards outside the chamber door.

  “Milord,” they greeted him with a bow of their heads.

  “Has she had any requests?” he asked.

  “None, other than she be left alone,” answered a guard.

  Out of courtesy, Drake rapped his knuckles upon the door.

  “Go away!” her voice shouted from inside.

  “’Tis Drake,” he told her. “Now at the request of your lord, I suggest you open the door, anon.”

  “You are not my lord,” came her muffled reply.

  “If you’re in my castle, then I am your lord.”

  “I think you’re forgetting that it is really my castle, not yours. Killing and pillaging doesn’t qualify as earning the title.”

  Impatience won once again. No woman should talk this way to her lord and not be reprimanded. And no wench, witch or not, was going to stop him from entering.

  “I’ll not be locked out of my own bedchamber. Now open the door before I knock it down.”

  “’Tis my bedchamber, and you have not been invited in. I suggest you find a whore’s bed to occupy if you’re in need of some merriment.”

  That was all he was going to take from the little chit. With one powerful leg he kicked in the heavy oaken door and stomped into the room. She stood at the fire, her back toward him, and turned around quickly at his entrance. Dressed in a blue velvet gown, and with her hair brushed and fanned out loose and silky down to her waist, he momentarily forgot everything except her beauty.

  He turned back to see his guards standing in the doorway, swords raised to protect him.

  “There is no need to protect me,” he told them. “And no need to guard the door anymore tonight. I’ll be with her till morning.”

  “Yes, milord,” one answered. They backed out of the doorway, and he closed the door, the broken bar hold swinging on the inside.

  “What was that you said about a whore’s bed?” he asked, holding the jug of
ale and trencher of bread under his arm as he strode forward.

  Brynn didn’t like the look in Drake’s eyes. It was dark, and frightening, but not from anger. This was the look of lust. She regretted now ever having spoken to him so boldly. He came toward her, his presence dominating the room, choking the breath from her body as her space was invaded by his form.

  “I - I will not lay with you, no matter what you say.” She held her father’s dagger, red hot behind her back. She’d been heating it in the fire since she heard his knock on the door.

  “I never said I wanted to lay with you, did I?”

  He put down the bread and jug of ale on the trunk at the foot of the bed.

  “If that’s for me, I am not hungry.”

  “If I say you’ll eat, you will. And what are you hiding behind your back?”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” she retorted.

  He took a step forward and reached out for her. She thrust the hot dagger at him. He caught her wrist, but she managed to lay the hot metal against his inner arm. She could smell his skin burning beneath it, and watched as his face scrunched up in pain.

  “Arrrgh!” he growled in protest. “What are you doing?” He ripped the dagger out of her hand and flung it across the floor. That’s when his eyes settled on her father’s banner hanging on the wall instead of his own.

  “What have you done with my banner?”

  “I shredded it and burned it in the fire,” she answered smugly.

  His eyes narrowed and his brows dipped. His gaze clouded over and a dark shadow fell over his face. He took a step toward her, his fists clenched in rage. She backed away, toward the fire.

  “You had no right to do that. And if you don’t stop trying to kill me, I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

  The window coverings blew relentlessly as the wind suddenly picked up outside. Brynn heard thunder rumbling in the background and saw the flashes of lightning illuminating his dark face. She felt a coldness she had only felt once before. A fear inside herself that wasn’t unlike that of being tied to the sacrificial stake and waiting for the dragon to consume her. Drake’s eyes burned with anger, and she stepped farther back as he stepped nearer.