Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  Asad stood at his side, reaching out a hand to help him to his feet. Drake took his hand, kicking him in the stomach before flipping him over his shoulder. Asad fell on his back with a thump, knocking the air from his lungs.

  “My lord, had I known following your orders would make you so angry, I wouldn’t have obeyed.”

  “Yes, you would. I want to be angry, and you haven’t made me angry enough. If we’re going to get out of this alive, we need Dracus to help us strengthen our odds.”

  “Ah, I see your point.” Asad pushed up to his knees. “You want me to make you angry because you think Dracus may be connected to your emotions somehow. You think the dragon won’t come unless you’re angry and that’s why you’re asking me to hit you.”

  “Your idle chatter is making me madder than that feeble attempt at a punch you dished out.”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth, than Asad’s foot came up and smashed into Drake’s jaw.

  “A sheik knows how to use his legs even better than his fists,” he told him.

  Drake rubbed his jaw, seeing this was true, having bit his tongue in the process. His mouth dripped blood.

  “Come, sirrah, is that the best you can use your legs? And you tell me you have a way with bedding a woman? I think it was all a pack of lies.” He gritted his teeth, feeling his anger growing with each punch from Asad, and every laugh from his former men. Brynn watched from atop the post, tears streaming down her eyes with every punch he took. Calais reached up to rub his hand up and down Brynn’s leg. He then looked back to Drake to make sure he’d seen his action.

  Thunder rumbled and lightning split the sky. The wind picked up and the waves rose higher on the ocean. Drake’s anger had awakened and so had the dragon.

  “I see it’s working, my lord.” Asad held out a hand to catch the first of the raindrops that fell. “I do believe Dracus stirs.”

  “You do realize that when this is all over, I’ll have you shining the dung off my boots with your tongue for what you’re doing.”

  “Oh, really?” Asad punched again, but Drake dodged it. “I don’t think you realize that when this is over, I’ll be taking your place as Lord of Thorndale Castle. And of course that means I’ll be laying with your voluptuous wife, showing her the ways of a sheik.”

  Drake didn’t want to think of Asad laying with Brynn. That bothered him more than Asad’s threat to replace him as lord.

  “You touch her and I’ll castrate you.”

  “A sheik knows ways in bed that’ll make any woman cry with pleasure. You’ll be hearing Brynn cry out, but it’ll be my name on her tongue, not yours.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Drake’s anger overflowed and he drew his sword on Asad. Asad drew his as well. The Klarens looked on in confusion as Drake and Asad fought each other. Swords clashed and they parried back and forth. If he, himself, hadn’t trained Asad to be such a mighty warrior, Drake knew his anger would have killed the man by now.

  “What are they doing?” Calais spoke to Stig, the leader of the Klarens.

  Brynn watched as Asad and Drake fought each other. She’d never seen Drake so mad before.

  “The fool Drake asked his squire to hit him,” replied Calais. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Brynn pulled at the ropes that bit into her flesh, holding her hands above her head. She knew exactly what Drake was doing, and she admired him for his cleverness. He not only confused the Klarens and amused them, but he worked up his anger to call forth the dragon to help him.

  She looked out to the sea, watching the waves getting higher and higher, crashing against the shore. Her head still spun from the herbal potion, and when she looked down, the blackness of the sea had her reeling in fear.

  “We’ll just let those two fools kill each other and we won’t have to do it,” said Stig.

  The rain fell in torrents now, and the dark clouds rolled in angry turmoil above their heads. On the crest of a wave she saw the infamous Dracus raising his head from the sea, welcoming his next meal. Drake’s plan had worked well, except he’d forgotten she was the one on the sacrificial post. In his attempt to rid himself of the Klarens, he was going to rid himself of her, too.

  “Drake!” she screamed, just as Dracus lifted his serpent head and roared loudly. The Klarens scattered among the cliffs as the dragon rose from the sea and spread its powerful wings - both sets, behind him. Dracus had grown in size since the first time she was to be sacrificed. Every time Drake had struck the dragon with his sword, his anger had fed the beast and made it even more powerful. If only she’d had time to tell this to Drake. He had no idea his own vengeance would soon consume him. He thought he was going to be killing off the father he always hated, not knowing that Dracus was really a part of himself.

  Brynn thought of Hermod, the chief Elder, and the rest of the Elders back in the dungeon. They’d be happy to know she was about to perish at the jaws of Dracus. This is what they wanted all along. They hadn’t only wanted her as a sacrifice to rid them of the dragon, they wanted her gone because they’d feared her - the witch as they’d called her. If she truly was a witch, she’d do something about setting herself free. Once again she found herself tied to the sacrificial post. She’d come full circle in her walk of life. Only this time, she didn’t know if she’d be so lucky. It didn’t look as if Drake would save her in time. The odds were against him, though he tried his best.

  Dracus hovered in the air above the sea, streams of water flowing off its body and hitting the jagged rocks at the shore. The water splashed up on Brynn, totally drenching her hair and clothes. She gasped for breath, already feeling her strength leaving her.

  “Draaaake,” she yelled once more over the noise of the wind and beast, only hoping that he had heard her.

  Drake and Asad fought so expertly with their swords, that neither of them had gotten the advantage. Drake knew the weather had changed around them, but he was so intense on punishing Asad for his comment about Brynn that he didn’t even see Dracus rise from the sea.

  “My lord, I say,” shouted Asad as he parried. His long hair dripped water down his neck, clinging to his bronzed skin. “I say mayhap I should have suited you in armor before we came.”

  “You’ll not get a swipe of your sword to hit my flesh. I don’t need armor to fight you.”

  “Nay, my lord, not me. I’m speaking of armor to keep you from burning from the dragon’s breath.”

  “Dragon?” Drake lowered his sword, and so did Asad. Dracus rose high above the cliff, clawing at the air as it made a wide circle around Brynn.

  “Nay” he screamed, realizing Brynn was about to be eaten. He grabbed for Gollimer’s reins, but the horse was spooked and took off without him.

  “Take my horse, my lord.” Asad handed him the reins.

  Drake jumped atop the horse and climbed the cliff to try to reach Brynn. He made it to the top to find Calais leaning over the dead body of Stig, a dagger embedded in the man’s back.

  “You’d kill your own mother,” said Drake, not a bit surprised Calais had killed the man who’d helped him by stabbing him in the back. “Now get out of my way, so I can save Brynn.” He kicked Calais in the teeth, and the man fell to the ground.

  The dragon came closer, and Brynn screamed as its fiery breath shot out and charred her. The flames were hot and the horse struggled against Drake’s hold. He jumped off the horse, tying it onto a charred tree.

  The dragon made another circle in the air, giving Drake the time to run over to Brynn. He took his sword and severed the ropes that held her hands above her head.

  “Drake. I know I was wrong,” she cried out. “I never should have tried to trick you into drinking the potion.”

  “I was wrong about you, too,” he said, slashing the ropes at her feet. “You didn’t let the prisoners go after all.”

  “I couldn’t. I respect you, my lord. I want another chance at proving my loyalty to you.”

  “You already have, Brynn. You never would have tr
ied to find me otherwise.”

  “I have to tell you about the dragon. I went to Dracus in my dreamwalking state. I wanted to ask your father to spare your life.”

  Drake and Brynn ducked as the dragon flew so close to them that the bottom of its scaled tail grazed them.

  “Can’t this wait until later? I think there’d be a better time to chat about my father.”

  “Nay, Drake! It can’t wait. I have something I need to tell you.” She leaned into him as he cut the last of her ropes, the ones holding her wrists together. Her body was black with soot, and he saw her hands trembling as she grabbed him by the front of his tunic. “I didn’t see your father while dreamwalking, because he is not Dracus. I saw you, Drake. You are the dragon. Dracus is every evil thought you’ve ever had. He is the manifestation of your hatred for your father. He is your anger in physical form. Don’t you understand, Drake? You’ve created this dragon. Now you have to stop him, or else he will consume you.”

  “My father,” said Drake. “The same thing must have happened to him. Mayhap there is a spark of light in him somewhere. It seemed as if he was trying to warn me.”

  The horse neighed from behind them, and Drake turned to see Calais struggling with his hurt leg, trying to mount anyway. Drake lunged forward to stop him from taking the horse, but Brynn grabbed his hand to still him. He thanked her silently when he saw why she’d done it.

  Dracus swooped from the sky, eyes blazing red, a second pair of sharp horns growing from its head as it dove in toward Calais. Its huge mouth opened in a snarl, three rows of very sharp teeth dripping with saliva heading for its next meal.

  “Nooooooo!” screamed Calais, blocking his face with his hand, just before the dragon scooped up him and the horse and carried them up into the air.

  “He’s gone,” said Brynn. “He’s been devoured.” She hid her eyes in Drake’s tunic, and his arms closed around her protectively.

  “God help us,” he whispered, knowing now he had created the beast that had taken so many lives. This wasn’t about his father anymore. This was about him. He was turning into his father, whether he liked it or not. If he didn’t stop Dracus, they would soon all be dead.

  “I’ve got to stop him.” Drake released Brynn and drew his sword, looking up to the sky to summon the dragon. He held his dragon-hilted sword above his head, the heat from the metal burning into his hand.

  “You can’t kill the dragon with your sword or any other weapon,” Brynn screamed into the storm. “If you do, it’ll consume you. Don’t you understand?”

  “I understand only too well,” Drake shouted back. “I need to kill the monster I’ve created before it hurts anyone else.”

  The shine of the hilt’s jeweled dragon’s eyes glowed, catching Dracus’s attention. He saw the Klarens running, and his own men approaching. The archers rained arrows against Dracus, but the weapons only bent and ricocheted off the beast’s chest. Asad was climbing the sacrificial rock to help him. They would all die now, and it was all Drake’s fault.

  “Drake,” warned Brynn. “Think of what the old man said. “The dragon’s fed, the dragon grows. Starvation is the dragon’s foe.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, Brynn. I don’t understand it.”

  “I think I do.”

  Drake never had the chance to hear Brynn’s explanation. With Dracus’s next attack, he raised his sword and swiped, planning on cutting the dragon’s belly. But his sword never made contact. Brynn jumped forward, knocking it from his hand. Drake grabbed her, but the motion set them off balance. They both plunged over the cliff and into the dark, cold, churning water below.

  THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Brynn felt her lungs exploding as she held her breath under the water that threatened to consume her. She’d never forget Drake’s expression on his face when she threw her body against him to knock the sword from his hand. Disappointment, shock, anger. He just didn’t understand any of it, and now it was too late for second chances.

  She opened her eyes and realized Drake’s hand was still holding on to her. His eyes were closed and he looked to be sleeping. His head bled, and she knew he must have hit it on the rocks when they fell over the cliff. He didn’t look good. She had to try to save him. She had to get him to the top of the water before they both drowned.

  Her own fear consumed her as she felt the burning in her lungs. She pulled at Drake, but his boot was tangled in a weed, holding him down. Even unconscious, his fingers remained clenched in a protective grip on her gown.

  She knew she could have removed his hold and tried to make it to the surface, but not without leaving Drake behind. Suddenly, nothing mattered. If Drake would die, she would die with him. She closed her eyes and willed herself out of her body, so as not to feel the pain as her lungs exploded when they filled with water.

  She was in the dreamwalking state once again, and it felt comfortable and right. There was a mist all around her, much like the one she’d seen under the pool when Drake’s father pulled her under. She should have felt fear, thinking she may meet up with this man, but she didn’t. Instead, she felt love - the love she held for Drake.

  Drake’s etheric form was there instantly, standing before her. He smiled and held out his hand to her. “I’m sorry it had to end this way.”

  “So am I,” she said, reaching for him.

  “Brynn, nothing call kill our love for each other. Our love will live forever. We’re safe from Dracus now, nothing can hurt us. Love is more powerful than even the strongest forged sword.”

  “That’s it!” Suddenly she knew the answer to the riddle the old addlepated man was trying to tell them all along. What didn’t make sense before, did now. Now she knew how to stop Dracus. While all along, the villagers of Lornoon thought a virgin sacrifice would suffice Dracus, they were wrong. Giving an innocent’s life had nothing to do with stopping the dragon.

  “What do you mean?” asked Drake, taking her into his arms.

  “Love is the answer. Your weapons and hatred only feed the dragon, making him stronger. To kill the dragon, you need to release your hatred, your fears, your weapons. We can only rid ourselves of Dracus by sending love.”

  “That can’t be, Brynn. That wouldn’t stop him.”

  “Please try, Drake. For me.”

  Drake nodded, and kissed her on the forehead. “For you, love.”

  “Call forth the dragon. Summon Dracus,” she instructed.

  “Here? We’re dreamwalking, or have you forgotten?”

  “Do it, Drake. He’ll come. Thoughts and emotions exist on the dreamwalking plane. He’ll be here, you’ll see.”

  Drake called forth the dragon, and Dracus showed its ugly head, coming right for them in his wispy etheric form.

  “Hold my hand, Drake. Use your other hand to send the love forth from us into the dragon - into every evil thought or murderous deed you’ve ever done in your life.”

  A white light went forth from them, encompassing Dracus. The dragon reared back in agony. His eyes glowed and smoke encompassed him, and his wings disintegrated as it shrunk in size, but didn’t disappear completely.

  “’Tis not enough, Drake. There’s something bigger you need to release. A thought that’s bigger than everything. The feelings that make up the core of the dragon.”

  “My father,” he said. “It must be my hatred for my father for killing my mother.”

  “Forgive him.”

  “I can’t.”

  Dracus snarled and grew larger.

  “You’re feeding the dragon. You must forgive your father or you’ll be consumed by your own hatred.”

  “I do hate him.”

  Dracus was back to its original size. The stream of white light dissipated from their hands.

  “He’s a lesson to you, Drake. Don’t let the same thing happen to you.”

  “’Tis too difficult. I can’t forgive him.”

  As Dracus reared back, ready to strike, Aurelius Pen
dragon’s form made its presence known. Standing before them was the dreamwalking form of Drake’s father.

  “I was once a good man, Drake. But I let hatred and greed rule me. It eventually turned me against my own wife. I didn’t want to listen to her telling me my anger would consume me. You have a good wife, son. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. If I could, I’d live my life over differently. Because of my mistakes, I’m trapped between two worlds. I’ll never even have the piece of mind of being with your mother in the afterlife. She awaits me, but I’ll never get there. Instead, I’ll spend eternity being my own dragon that I’ve created by my thoughts and actions.”

  “Father.” Drake reached out his hand, but then pulled it back.

  “Listen to Brynn, son. Love is the answer. Give the Dragon’s Son a new image. Let your son walk in your footsteps proudly. Let him be the product of your love.”

  Then he was gone, and Dracus was back. Bigger and bolder than ever.

  “I forgive you,” whispered Drake, reaching out for the father he had once loved as a child. Brynn could hear his thoughts. He chose to remember his father as the loving man who once knew right from wrong. The man who fell in love and created a son to walk in his image. The Dragon’s Son was not to be feared. The Pendragons from this day forward would walk in honor and love.

  Drake joined hands with Brynn and together the white light of love shot forward to encompass Dracus. The dragon screamed, and shriveled up into a ball of red light which when encompassed by the white light of love, turned white itself.

  “We did it,” said Drake, only wishing he could have vanquished his father’s dragon as well.

  “Yes, we did,” said Brynn.

  Then the burning was back in Brynn’s lungs, and the world went dark before her. Her body was void of energy, and she knew she must be dying, if not already dead.