The Crown and the Dragon

by John D. Payne

  Elenn didn't reply.

  The Leodrine squeezed her hand. “May the Gods help you find your path.”

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “And now you must be tired,” the Leodrine said. “The acolytes will show each of you to a room where you may rest.” She stood and gestured toward the door. Elenn curtsied deeply, Aedin managed a bow, and they left the Leodrine's office.

  As she was ushered down the corridor, Elenn turned back. Aedin stood gazing at her, as a young nun tried politely to lead him away in the opposite direction. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Abruptly he reached into his shirt and pulled out the chain from which hung her mother's gold ring.

  “Your collateral,” he said, tossing it to her.

  “You got it back?” Elenn asked. “How?” She didn’t know why, but it felt somehow both good and bad to have it returned.

  “Doesn't matter,” he said, shrugging.

  “Thank you.”

  He cleared his throat. “Four days, four hours. Don’t think I forgot.”

  Elenn smiled, sadly. “I never thought you would.” Then she turned and walked with the young nun to her chambers.

  Once alone, Elenn didn't know what to do with herself. What was she going to do with the rest of her evening, let alone the rest of her life? A knock on the door heralded the delivery of a simple meal of soup and bread. She sat down on the bed and ate, but in a few minutes she was done.

  Tired and sore, she decided that turning in early would be wise. She undressed and lay down in bed, but her mind kept running through the same questions. Even after she succumbed to exhaustion and slept, restless dreams disturbed her.

  She awoke. It was night, but she was unable to return to sleep. She put on her borrowed dress and wandered the halls of the Leode, unsure what she was looking for—someone to talk to, perhaps.

  One of the nuns led her quietly to one of the upper halls. Elenn walked past several tapestries, lit by torches, displaying scenes of Deira’s triumphs and tragedies. At the end of the hall, she saw a man whose posture had become familiar. Aedin.

  He was looking through a narrow arched window and did not turn as she approached. Elenn drew near and looked over his shoulder. Below them, in the courtyard, were three acolytes holding hands and standing in a circle.

  The moon was bright, but torches still burned in the courtyard. Two of the nuns faced inwards, and one turned her back on them, facing toward the main gatehouse and its heavy iron portcullis. They were surrounded by a ring of small white stones set into the ground. She could not hear it, but Elenn knew the women would be softly chanting prayers. In the distance, there was a flash of lightning. Several seconds later, Elenn heard the rumble of thunder.

  “They pray for the return of the Paladin,” Elenn said. “A hero of great faith, with the power to walk through fire.”

  Aedin nodded, still not turning around.

  “The prophecies of the Elders say that the warrior will manifest at the mid moon,” Elenn continued. “He will enter the circle and save the Deirans.”

  “You know this place pretty well?” Aedin asked.

  “It’s like a second home,” said Elenn. Maybe more like a third or a fourth home. Her adopted father had many manors. But there was no sense complicating things.

  “My father liked to say that the courtyard is the heart of any castle,” Elenn continued, “and so as a little girl I spent hours sitting in this very hall, looking down through these windows, just watching everyone come and go.”

  Aedin laughed, and then turned to her. “Did you?”

  Elenn shrugged. “A little.” She smiled. “Not really.”

  She noticed that he had a large book in his hands. “Is that the prophecies of Enid?”

  He handed it over. It was.

  “My mother used to hold me on her lap and tell me the stories as I turned the pages,” said Elenn, wistfully.

  Elenn opened the book and began to turn the pages. Aedin came and stood close behind her, looking over her shoulder.

  “Over here is Anyon,” Elenn said, pointing to an illuminated illustration.

  “First king of the Deirans,” said Aedin. “What’s he doing here? Being struck by lightning?”

  There was another flash of lightning outside, followed by another crash of thunder.

  “Sort of,” said Elenn. “As he stood before his victorious army, Anyon raised his sword aloft. Ollatha and his children the Gods sent the lightning and filled him with power. His boots melted the stone beneath his feet.”

  “That’s not how I heard that story,” said Aedin. “Suppose every telling is different.” He fell silent for a moment. “Ever wonder if these things really happened? Like the All-Father sending his lance of fire down from the heavens. Do you really believe that?”

  Elenn looked away from his gaze. “My father said these were just stories.” She traced the illustration of lightning with her fingers. “But the footprints of Anyon are still there on Mount Iliak. Since then, each Deiran king since has stood in Anyon's footsteps while being crowned.”

  Aedin grunted.

  Elenn searched through the book for another of her favorite illustrations. “Here sits Enid,” she said, pointing. “She awaits the hero.”

  Aedin reached out, and their hands touched. Elenn quickly pulled her own hand back and let him turn the page.

  “Here,” said Elenn, turning the page, “a Paladin enters the circle of fire, filled with power and light.”

  “The Falarica,” said Aedin, tapping his finger on an object painted in the figure’s hands. He took the book from her hands and flipped the pages until he came to another illustration. In this one, a young woman was surrounded by demons. In the sky above her, one dragon consumed another.

  “Two dragons,” said Aedin.

  “One poisons the land; the other heals it,” said Elenn.

  “Never seen a healing dragon,” muttered Aedin, closing the book. “About flaming time for it to show up, if you ask me.”

  They were both silent for a moment.

  “Time for me to go,” said Aedin.

  “Not tonight, surely?” said Elenn.

  “Not leaving, just heading to bed,” he said.

  “When do you… ?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Aye,” said Aedin. “Job’s done. My oath is fulfilled. Your debt is paid. You don’t owe me a thing. The Leodrine Mother took care of all that. With what she's paying me, I can buy land wherever I want. So you get to keep your lands, dragon and all.”

  “That was very… considerate of her,” said Elenn. She was furious.

  “She’s a fine woman,” said Aedin. He took a deep breath. “So, will you be joining the Sisters, then?”

  “I think they’d like it if I did,” said Elenn, “and sometimes I think I would, too. I reach the age of inheritance later this year. Thinking of all the Lairds who will come sniffing after my family’s lands and titles—” she shuddered. “—it makes the prospect of leaving my name behind rather tempting.”

  “Tempted, myself,” Aedin said with a laugh.

  “But in the end,” Elenn said, “I’ll probably go back to Anondea and see if I can set things in order. And who knows, maybe I’ll find someone I wouldn’t be so sorry to settle down with.”

  “Aye,” said Aedin with a sad smile. “Someone nice. Very nice.”

  He handed her the book and moved to go.

  “And you go make some girl happy,” said Elenn, clutching the book to her chest, “with your gifts of beautiful clothes and jewels.”

  Aedin stopped in his tracks, but did not turn around.

  “Those things you found in my cache,” said Aedin, “were for my wife, Nywen.”

  He was married? Elenn’s heart sank. Then fuzzy memories of their night in the cave under the waterfall began to return. She had opened this wound before.

  “I was busy with war and campaigns,” Aedin said hoarsely, leaning up against the wooden doorf
rame.

  “You don’t have to talk about this,” Elenn whispered.

  “When I finally did head home,” Aedin continued, “my village was gone. I looked for her, and I did find her—eventually. Thought she’d still be waiting, looking for me like I was looking for her.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “Been away a long time,” Aedin said, heavily. “She’d started another family with another man.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Aedin nodded, silently. Then he pounded his fist on the wooden doorframe. “Every confounded time I have something in my hands it slips away.”

  He strode quickly back to her and took her in his arms. He looked into her eyes for the briefest of moments and then kissed her once, gently, on the lips.

  Elenn heard the sound of footsteps behind her.

  “My Lady of Adair?” said an acolyte.

  Elenn turned, and Aedin released her. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his expression so sad it broke her heart.

  He walked away, and Elenn watched him, her fingers touching her lips.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Elenn watched Aedin leave, walking so swiftly he almost ran. Why was he so eager to leave? What was he afraid of?

  “My Lady of Adair?” asked the acolyte again, standing waiting behind her. “I am sorry to interrupt. But the Leodrine Mother is down in the courtyard for the Vigil of the Paladin. She saw you watching from the window and asked if you would like to come down and join her.”

  “That’s very kind,” said Elenn, “but I will be returning to bed shortly. Will you please convey my regrets to the Mother?”

  “Of course,” said the young nun, and she departed with a curtsey.

  Elenn returned to the window, still holding the book Aedin had handed her. As the sisters below performed the ritual, lightning flashed and thunder crashed. Elenn sighed. Half of her was angry at Aedin for kissing her, and the other half was angry at him for not staying to kiss her more. It was all so confusing.

  Elenn looked down at the book in her hands, the book her adopted mother had read to her. She ran her hand over the cover and smiled. Just touching it made her feel better. Maybe she could find an answer inside. Elenn closed her eyes and opened the book to a random page.

  She opened her eyes. The illustration was one of ravens swirling in the sky, which reminded Elenn uncomfortably of the monster she and Aedin had faced above the Cataracts. What had it wanted with them? Where had it come from, and where had it gone? Would it come for her again? Elenn shivered and flipped the pages.

  This time she stopped on a picture of a rocky beach. In the sky, a dragon lurked. Below the monster stood an armored Paladin atop the rocks, reaching out toward the sea. Below him in the water were nymphs, holding up the Falarica, their mouths open as if to speak. Or to sing.

  Elenn frowned. What had she seen in the water, while she was drowning? Were they water nymphs? Or had it all been the imagination of a dying girl? She closed her eyes, trying to remember. The faces and forms were vague and elusive, but the song was nearly within the grasp of memory.

  It had been a divine blend of harmonies, intricate counterpoints woven together in a complex pattern. Was there a single melody at the center of it all? She hummed, trying to find the tune. In her mind, she could almost hear the nymphs joining in.

  A terrible, inhuman scream shattered her concentration and her eyes snapped open. Where had the sound come from? No one was in the hall with her. Looking through the window to the courtyard below, she saw nothing unusual, and no sign of distress. Nothing but the Sisters, and the storm.

  A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, as the boom of thunder shook the Leode. For an instant Elenn saw the head of the dragon, filling her whole field of vision, its mouth agape as if it would swallow her whole. Elenn dropped the book, but the image was gone faster than the blink of an eye.

  “Something is wrong,” Elenn whispered to herself.

  Someone behind her whispered an inaudible reply.

  Elenn whirled around, but no one was there.

  “Who’s there?” Elenn said, her voice shaky. “Show yourself!”

  In the patter of the rain, Elenn heard more whispers. But no matter where she turned, she saw no one.

  “Leave me alone!” Elenn cried.

  The whispers increased in number and in volume until they filled her ears, like the roar of the sea.

  “What do you want from me?” Elenn hissed.

  The whispers stopped abruptly. Then Elenn heard Ethelind as clearly as if she were standing in front of her.

  “You are the Paladin.”

  “I must be dreaming,” Elenn said, “or going mad.” She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. As she did, the lightning struck again, and she saw more images—ravens cawing furiously, the Leodrine telling her to have faith, and herself holding the broken pieces of the Falarica. The images were gone before the thunder.

  Elenn sank against a nearby wall. Her legs would no longer hold her. Her vision was fading to black. As she lost consciousness, the last thing she was aware of was the distant sound of that same inhuman scream. For some reason, it made her think of the sea.

  Back in his chambers, Aedin angrily struck the stout wooden door with his fist. It hurt even more than when he had punched the door frame upstairs in the tapestry hall.

  “What is wrong with me?” he asked himself, shaking his painfully bruised hand.

  Stealing that kiss had been a mistake—sweet and tender, but foolish. A high-born lady was not going to give her heart to an outlaw. When the thrill faded, she would realize that he couldn’t offer her comfort or security. She would return to her own kind, and he would be nothing but a memory of youthful adventure to savor on rainy days, lounging in silks in one of her husband’s palatial estates.

  So why hadn’t he just left her alone? It was so stupid. Aedin blew out his breath in frustration. He pulled back his foot to kick the bed, but remembered his aching hand and thought better of it.

  Instead, Aedin packed up his meager belongings. He put on the quilted Sithian jack, and shoved the Sithian dagger in his belt. The Halsing’s great sword he strapped to his back, trying not to think about how very many of his possessions were stolen from dead men.

  Aedin paused as he looked over the ragged clothes he had worn to the Leode. The clothing had been cleaned, but none of it was better than what the Sisters had given him to wear. He held up his old jacket, now missing the lace which he had wound around Elenn’s arm when they danced.

  Aedin tossed the ragged clothes on the floor and shoved the last of his food into his leather sack. The last thing in the room was a letter of credit from the Leodrine Mother, who had convinced him to abandon his claim on Elenn’s lands in exchange for a small fortune in silver. All he had to do was get back to Heortigsport and he could claim the silver from a merchant bank. He folded up the letter of credit and put it in a small leather purse he carried on a string around his neck.

  Throwing his sack over his shoulder, Aedin walked out of the chamber. He closed the door quietly and hesitated. He glanced upward. One floor up, Elenn might still be in the great hall.

  Aedin shook his head. “You already said goodbye, idiot,” he muttered to himself. “And then some.”

  He walked to the door which led to the courtyard and the main gatehouse. As he reached to open it, the door flew wide and he had to jump back to avoid being struck.

  “Watch it!” he growled. “What’s the big rush?”

  “I’m sorry, my child,” said the Leodrine Mother, who bustled past him, her long robes gathered in her hands so she could run. “It’s Elenn.”

  “Elenn? What?” asked Aedin, dashing after her.

  “There’s no time to explain,” the Leodrine said breathlessly, as she hurried up the narrow stone stairway.

  They rushed together to the great hall, where Aedin instantly saw Elenn collapsed in a heap near the window where he had left her. He ran to her side and picked he
r up, cradling her head in his arms.

  Elenn did not seem aware of him. She looked pale in the torch light. Her head tossed restlessly, and her mouth worked as if she were trying to speak. Aedin put his ear to her lips but he could not understand her almost-inaudible mutters.

  The Leodrine Mother reached him and knelt at his side. “Not as light on my feet as I used to be, I’m afraid,” she said. “How is she?”

  “Don’t know,” said Aedin. “What’s wrong with her?”

  The Leodrine Mother placed her hands on Elenn’s face, feeling her forehead and cheeks. She gently opened Elenn’s eyes, and Aedin could see that the girl’s pupils were dancing about wildly.

  “She is in the Glyderinge,” the Leodrine pronounced, “the world of spirit.”

  “But that’s for Elders and … prophets with … long beards,” said Aedin. “She’s barely at the age of inheritance.”

  “And yet she is the Paladin,” said the Leodrine soberly.

  “What, Elenn?”

  “Yes,” she said. “She will deliver us through the power of the Gods. But while she is lost in her dream quest, she needs our aid and protection.” She looked deep into his eyes. “Aedin Jeoris, will you help her?”

  “Whatever it takes,” he said.

  “You’re ready to travel, I see. Good. Take her immediately to Lough Aislinn. There’s no time to spare.”

  “At once,” said Aedin. “But why?”

  “There is a hermit there,” she said, “on the northeast shore, close to the Narrows, south of a ruined monastery. He is the last member of a dying Order. He will guide her through her anointing.”

  Aedin nodded. “I’ll get her there, even if I have to carry her every step of the way.” He stood, lifting Elenn in his arms. “A horse would help.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Come with me to the stables.”

  Aedin shifted his grip and nodded. Before he could take a step, he heard a scream from the courtyard below.

  More screams followed as the Leodrine Mother rushed to the window.

  “This can not be!” she cried. “Vitalion soldiers inside the Leode? How is this possible? Who let them in?”