Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  “Don’t fret for me when I’m gone, Brynn. I never deserved someone as wonderful as you.”

  “Why do you sound as if you’re saying goodbye?”

  “Mayhap I am in a way. I have every intention of stirring up a dragon while I’m here. This time, I plan on killing the damned thing.”

  “Nay, Drake. You can’t kill the dragon. Your father warned me that a sword wouldn’t work. No weapon would. The old man says the same thing.”

  “That sounds like something that addlepated old man would say. And if my father told you I shouldn’t use weapons, then that’s just what I’ll do. He obviously is trying to trick me.”

  “I don’t think so, Drake. I think there’s another way to slay a dragon, besides to kill it with weapons.”

  “You’re starting to sound like that old man,” he said. “The only way to stop the dragon is to kill it. I’ll kill my father for taking my mother’s life.”

  “Then you’ll do it without me. I’ll not stay and watch as you’re devoured by the beast.”

  “As you wish.” Drake stood, helping her to her feet also. “I’ll take you back to Thorndale Castle and return without you.”

  Brynn needed time to think. She needed time to stop Drake from his death wish. She needed help.

  “At least allow me one more night with you, my husband, before you so foolishly throw away your life. Come back to the castle with me and let us spend the night together. Please.”

  “All right,” he agreed. “I suppose one more day won’t matter. I’ll come back right after the executions in the morning.”

  Brynn cringed when she’d heard that. She’d saved one man’s life for another day, but in the process doomed the lives of dozens. They mounted their horses and headed back to Thorndale Castle. She had one last night to think of a way to save the prisoners, as well as Drake.

  THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Brynn paced the floor of the bedchamber, waiting for Juturna. She’d sent for the old seer, hoping the woman could give her some insight of what to do. Drake would be here soon to spend the night with her, and then by the morning it would all be over.

  A knock at the door sent Brynn running. She threw it open, and scanned the corridor before pulling the seer inside. Once the door was closed, she bolted it and hauled the woman over to sit on the bed.

  “What is it, Lady Brynn?” she asked. “Is something amiss?”

  “Aye.” Brynn sat down and grabbed the old woman’s hands. “Drake is going to confront the dragon tomorrow. He’s convinced he has to slay it. He thinks it is his father, and his personal vendetta is getting in the way of his proper judgment and common sense.”

  “Oh, my. I see.” Juturna’s face wrinkled in worry. “I knew he was in grave danger when I looked into my gazing crystal this morning, but I had no idea he was going to do that. He was supposed to have you help him. That was his plan.”

  “Well, his plans have changed. Now that we’ve consummated the marriage, he is more protective of me. He doesn’t want me to help. He intends to conquer Dracus by himself.”

  “He’ll never do it. No one has been able to kill a dragon - a Pendragon, by himself.” Juturna let go of Brynn’s hands and started pacing the floor. Brynn jumped up and joined her.

  “We need to stop him until we can figure out what to do,” Brynn suggested.

  “I agree,” she said. “We need to figure out a way to keep him in the castle and away from the sea.

  “And from executing the prisoners in the morning,” Brynn added.

  “He’s executing the traitors?” Juturna was horrified to hear this.

  “He even intends on killing the woman they’ve captured.”

  “No. This isn’t good. If he does that, there’s no need to go after Dracus. The dragon will appear on his own.”

  “Do you know something that you are keeping from me?” asked Brynn. “How do you know the dragon will come?”

  “I’m not certain, but I have a theory. I need you to help me find out if I’m right.”

  “There’s no time for that,” said Brynn. “We’ve got to find a way to not only save the prisoners, but keep Drake here. There isn’t enough time in the day.”

  “That’s it,” said Juturna with a snap of her fingers.

  “What is?” asked Brynn.

  “The answer. We’ll conduct our little experiment tonight while he sleeps.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Brynn admitted. “What experiment?”

  “Yes,” said Juturna, her hand on her chin in thought. “I think it’ll work. Let me tell you my plan.”

  * * *

  Brynn waited nervously beneath the bedcovers, listening to the sound of Drake’s feet stomping up the stairs. She heard his deep voice giving Asad the order to check on Gollimer and to make sure the new boy was doing a fair job with the falcons. Drake cared about the animals, and because of this, Brynn knew Drake wasn’t all bad. Just like his mother had told her, there’s a spark of light even in the darkest of souls. She knew Drake’s rage for his father was blinding him. If she could remove all that, then he could be the kind, loving man she knew he really was inside, instead of the fierce, dark warrior everyone else saw.

  The door opened, and in the candlelight Brynn glanced once more at the two wine goblets sitting on the bedside table. Hers was the one on the right. His on the left. Juturna made certain to tell her this three times before she left. He closed the door softly, and stopped to look at her from where he stood.

  “Drake,” she said meekly. “Won’t you come join me?” She faked the sultry smile, knowing that she wasn’t the devoted wife she pretended to be. In a few moments she would betray him just as the conspirators in the dungeon had done.

  “Brynn. You are a lovely sight.” He walked forward to the bed and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her lips, his hand touching her leg through the coverlet as he did so. His long, dark hair hung down around her and she reveled in the smell of hay, woodsmoke and leather. He was her husband, and she loved him with all her heart. She wished to the heavens there was another way to stop him.

  “Are you tired, my lord?”

  “Nay,” he answered. “I doubt I’ll sleep a wink now that you await me with open arms.” He removed his sword and the belt that held his dagger, followed by his boots and tunic. His chest had healed nicely from Juturna’s care. The old healer had removed the stitches yesterday, and now all that was left were the dragon’s scars.

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to tire you,” she said, knowing it wasn’t a lie. The potion Juturna put into Drake’s goblet was going to make him sleep like a baby. Juturna said it’d keep him sleeping long enough for Brynn to help the prisoners escape. She didn’t like deceiving him this way, especially since she knew he’d be furious once he’d found she’d let the prisoners go, but it was something she just had to do.

  “Oh, it takes much more to tire me than it does you,” he said. He sat on the end of the bed and Brynn pulled the covers up higher to hide the fact she was half-dressed underneath. “Don’t be so modest, wife,” he said rubbing her leg through the blanket. “Do pull back the coverlet so I can view your perfect body.”

  “Oh, not before we partake of some wine,” she said, reaching out and grabbing the one on the left. “Here you are, my lord.”

  He took the goblet, and raised it to his lips. Her heart thumped so loudly she hoped he wouldn’t hear it. She watched him with wide eyes.

  “Oh, where are my manners?” he said, holding the goblet out to her. “Do go first, my dear wife. I insist.”

  “Oh, no. I have my own goblet right here on the bedside table.”

  “Allow me to get it.” He picked up his belt and dagger off the bed and walked around the bed to the table holding his wine. He sat next to her, his back blocking the goblet from her view. She heard the scraping of the goblets over the wood as he moved them aside. When he turned back to settle himself on the bed next to her, she realized h
e’d put the goblet down. To her horror, she no longer knew which was hers. Had he put it on the right or the left? He’d moved them to make room for his dagger. She looked wide-eyed at the drinks, wondering which held the sleeping potion.

  “This is cozy, isn’t it?” He leaned back against the headboard and stretched out his legs.

  “Aye, very.” She spoke to him but kept her eyes on the goblets. Now she wished she’d used two that looked totally different to tell them apart.

  “Ah, I see you eyeing the wine. Why don’t you have some, darling?” He reached out and handed her the one on the right. The one that should have been hers, and hopefully still was. But she couldn’t be sure. He’d moved them. She hadn’t seen where he’d placed his own. She couldn’t drink from the cup until she knew it wasn’t tainted.

  “A toast,” he said, holding his own goblet high.

  “Yes, a toast,” she agreed, touching her goblet to his.

  “To trust,” he said. “The trust that’s shared between a man and his wife. The kind that never dies.”

  Her guilt ran deep at his words, her gaze falling to the liquid before her. Juturna was a skilled herbalist. She’d strained the leaves so Drake wouldn’t know his drink had been tampered with. Now Brynn didn’t know either.

  She’d just wait for Drake to drink. Once she saw the effects, if any, she’d know which drink she had herself. Drake raised the goblet to his lips. She watched closely, her hand shaking a bit. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. But instead of drinking, he stopped and lowered the goblet.

  “Is there a reason you don’t drink to our toast, my lady?”

  “Nay,” she lied.

  “Oh,” he answered. “For a moment I thought you didn’t agree that trust between a man and his wife is so important.”

  “That’s not it at all,” she said, wondering if she sounded suspicious. “I just don’t believe I’m thirsty right now.” She tried to hand it back to him, but he wouldn’t take it. He sat before her looking better than he ever had. She ached to be in his arms, her heart wanting nothing more than to spend the night making love with him, and waking up in the morning together.

  “You seemed very thirsty a minute ago when you suggested we drink the wine,” he said. “Could it be there’s a reason you want me to drink first?”

  A chill went through her and her hand shook slightly, spilling a drop of wine on the coverlet. He knew. He knew she was going to betray him.

  “Why, not at all.” She tried to smile, but she knew he saw right through her.

  “Trust is important between a married couple.”

  “I agree.”

  “You wouldn’t be trying to deceive me by putting something into my drink, would you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then prove it.”

  “Are you saying you don’t trust your own wife?”

  “I told you I trust no one. When I said that, you were included.”

  “So the toast to trust was all a farce. You don’t believe the strong bonds of marriage at all.”

  “I only require proof of that trust before I’ll believe. I’m a warrior, remember. I was raised to be suspicious, even of those I love.”

  She suddenly felt her own emotions bubbling within her. In her attempt to prove there was a spark of good in him, she’d only brought out more darkness. To admit she betrayed him would make him the winner in this game. Darkness would not rule over her castle, and Drake would not prove to her that everyone has a seed of evil in them somewhere. Including his wife.

  “All right,” she said, flustered that he should even question her actions. “I’ll prove to you that you don’t need to be suspicious of even your own wife.” She took a defiant sip, hoping she had the right goblet. If not, her point would be moot. Even if he were the one to drink from the tainted cup, she knew his accusations would be correct in the morning. It saddened her to think she had to betray her own husband. It saddened her more to think of all the prisoners who would be killed come morning. “There,” she said smacking her lips together, “does that prove to you there is nothing in the wine?”

  “It proves to me that you’re stubborn and unwilling to admit you’re no better than the rest of those who betrayed me. After all, you, yourself, admitted you had planned on regaining the castle from me and turning my people against me.”

  “You’re wrong, my lord. I may have thought that at first, but you know I’d never do such a thing now. I may be stubborn but I am not as black-hearted as you portray me to be. I believe you are the only one betraying yourself with the vengeance you carry for you father.”

  “Take some more wine.”

  “I think I will.” Her fury was up and she took a full draw on the goblet, feeling confident. “You need to look within your own heart and see that you don’t want to be evil.”

  “So now you’re saying I’m evil?”

  “Nay. That’s not what I meant.” Her head started to spin from the conversation and the way Drake always turned it in the direction he wanted it to go. He was confusing her, and her confidence was fleeing. She was no longer sure what she meant. Her mouth went dry and she drank deeply from the cup.

  “That’s enough,” he told her, taking the cup away from her and throwing it to the ground. “I’m not sure what was in there, but I don’t want you to die trying to prove to me your loyalty.”

  “I am moyal, ly lord.” Something didn’t sound quite right and Brynn yawned, suddenly feeling very tired.

  “I told you that you would tire first.” Drake picked up her hand and placed a kiss on it.

  “How did you know?” she asked, slinking down into the pillows, more tired than she’d ever been.

  “Next time you think to poison me, make sure to remove all your clothes to make your seduction a bit more realistic. A woman’s leg feels much different, even through a coverlet when it’s fully clothed.” He yanked the coverlet away from her, exposing her body, still clad in street clothes. She’d untied her bodice and pulled the coat-hardie down her chest, but she still wore her hose and even her soft shoes, wanting to be ready to start her mission quickly, as soon as Drake had fallen asleep.

  “You were right, my lord,” she said, eyes closing in the process. “You shouldn’t have trusted me.”

  “I didn’t,” he said, pulling her bodice into place and tying the laces. “Your mistake was trusting me. Had you been more aware, you would have known I placed my confidante outside your door when you made your plans with Juturna.”

  “Ju . . . turna. Don’t hurt her, I bed . . . beg, you. ’Twas all my idea.”

  “I’m sure it was, my little witch,” he said as he tucked her in and placed a kiss on her forehead. “And I’m sure the big witch will be claiming that the idea was all hers as soon as I confront her.”

  Drake stood and watched his bride sleeping so soundly. She would probably still be sleeping when he confronted and killed Dracus. And if Dracus killed him first, he would never see her again. That was a thought that saddened him deeply. Something he wished would never happen. But he didn’t have a choice. He had to kill Dracus, even if it meant losing his own life in the process.

  “Goodbye, Brynn. If I die tonight, I hope to see you dreamwalking. I love you, my little witch. I’ll love you forever.”

  He walked to the window and looked out. Asad gave him the signal with the lantern that his men were ready. He was taking his best archers, and his best swordsmen as well back to Lornoon with him. He knew he wasn’t going to stop his father by himself. He’d given the men their choice if they wanted to come along, knowing they may not come back alive. Every one of his men agreed to go. That told him what he needed to know. There were no more traitors in his castle.

  He looked back at the bed, wishing Brynn hadn’t decided to betray him. He never intended to call in the executioner to kill the prisoners in the morning, but he had to make Brynn think so. He had to know if she respected him as her lord and husband. Now he could see that his suspicions were true. Brynn may n
ot have been a part of Calais’ attack, but she was still not to be trusted. His own wife went against him and it hurt deeply. If he died tonight, it would be admirable compared to the decision he had to make as of what to do with her now.

  He opened the door to find Birdie bending close to the keyhole. She fell into his arms and he stood her upright. Her body trembled and she jumped away from him. She wrung her hands in worry and looked at him with wide eyes.

  “Lord Thorndale!”

  He should have known she’d be listening at the door. Birdie was young and likable, but she had a habit of making other people’s business hers, and then spreading it throughout the castle. That’s how he’d found out Brynn called Juturna to her bedchamber in secret. That’s also why he instructed the girl to listen at the door earlier and report to him what had been discussed between Brynn and the old seer.

  Birdie was frightened enough of him not to object, not to mention her curiosity wouldn’t let her say no.

  “You’ve done well, Birdie,” he told her with a nod.

  “Yes, my lord,” she said with a nervous curtsy.

  “Now stay and watch over Brynn and tend to her needs while I’m gone.

  He left the chamber quickly and headed out to the courtyard. Tonight would be the final night his dragon father roamed the earth.

  THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Brynn felt herself floating, drifting in a sea of white mist. She felt warm and comfortable and lost within the midst of the most beautiful clouds she’d ever seen. She knew she was in the dream state and liked it. She didn’t care if she ever came back to waking life again.

  “Brynn. Brynn!” called a harsh, old female voice, disturbing her comfort. “Open your eyes, Brynn.” She felt as if the earth were shaking. The pounding in her head was louder than thunder.

  “’Tis no use,” she heard another feminine voice that sounded a lot like her handmaiden Birdie. “’Tis my fault she drank the potion. I never should have listened at the door for Lord Thorndale when you two were making your plans. She is my good friend, and I’ve deceived her.”