Fire and Chains (Dragons of Galicia Book 2)
Page 7
After they slowed down between bites, Doran said, “I wanted to be close to you, my lady.”
“Pardon me?” Evelyn’s mouth was full.
“Hence, staying in the village closest to the castle.”
He gulped back his cup of water and poured some more. Evelyn watched his hands, struck with the sudden urge to feel the ruggedness of them caressing her skin. She wanted him to wrap her into his strong embrace so she could feel his heart throbbing against her bosom. She longed to feel the tips of his fingers touching every part of her body. Doran peered over at her, his green eyes blazing with something Evelyn could only label as intense desire. He reached across the table and clasped one of her hands in his and without a word he assisted her out of the chair.
“I … You …” Evelyn tried to speak, but Doran’s lips were on top of her own.
He walked with her across the room, their lips still locked and his hands groping her arms and waist and the slender curve of her back. They collapsed onto the bed and Doran pressed his weight on top of Evelyn. She loved the way he felt pressing against her in all his manliness and strength. He didn’t hold back his emotions and this made her insides catch on fire. She couldn’t resist him another moment and ripped the tattered nightgown straight down the middle and unlaced the undergarments until she lay purely naked across Doran’s bed.
“You, my lady, are art of the heavens.”
Doran began kissing her from neck to toe, taking his time, until neither of them could stand another moment. He stood up and tore off his shirt and was about to remove his britches when they heard a thump at the door.
“Thought I’d check in on you both,” Aine’s voice called out from the other side of the door.
Evelyn sat up, pulling one of the blankets around her shoulders and leaping off the bed. Doran snatched his shirt from the floor and quickly buttoned it. Evelyn scurried to his dresser drawers and dug through the linens and other blankets, not finding anything to throw on. Doran held up the nightgown she’d been wearing, but the garment was destroyed. He shrugged with a grin.
“What’s going on in there?” Aine banged again.
“Just trying to find some clothes for Evelyn,” Doran called back.
“I’m coming in …”
The door opened and Aine entered the room. She eyed the scene, noting Doran’s shirt. In his haste, he had buttoned it crookedly. Evelyn stood by the table eating an apple with a heavy wool blanket draped around her shoulders.
“Did you get enough to eat?” asked Evelyn, doing her best impression of acting casual.
Aine tossed a stack of clothes onto the table and grabbed a piece of the bread. “Here you go. They’re men’s clothes, but I figured you’d have a lot more luck fighting dragons in dungarees than a silly frock.” Aine glanced around and saw the torn nightgown on the floor. “Or a nightgown …”
Embarrassed to be nearly caught in the act of, well, something she might not be ready for, Evelyn took the clothes and smiled graciously—not just for the proper garments, but for Aine’s good timing. “Thanks, my friend. I see you’ve suited up too. Where in Galicia did you find a vest of armor to fit your frame?”
Aine took another huge bite of bread. “I have my ways.”
Doran faced the wall while Evelyn put on the clothes and Aine helped loop a rope around the waist of the dungarees to keep them from falling down. The leather vest was sturdy and solid and so were the boots. Evelyn felt like a real dragon slayer. Almost … She just needed to study her father’s journal to get a more thorough history of what exactly she was supposed to do when it came to the actual slaying part.
“Do you have my travel bag?” she asked Doran.
He rummaged through one of his drawers and tossed her the sack. She emptied out its contents, finding only a dress and a few ribbons. Her father’s journal wasn’t among her belongings.
“Where is it?” she asked.
“Where is what?”
“The journal. My father’s brown journal that recorded all of the legends of his encounters with dragons and how he killed them. I’d like to read it before we go into the mountains.”
The look on Doran’s face was scrunched and puzzled. “But didn’t you receive my package?”
“What package?” Evelyn asked, but the second the words escaped her mouth, she knew. Her heart began thudding louder and heavier. She had an idea where the journal might be … Ciara hadn’t been to see her that morning. In fact, Ciara hadn’t made an appearance in quite some time.
“Ciara …” all three of them said in unison.
“There’s no time to go back to the castle and retrieve it from the shrew,” said Evelyn. “Sunset is quickly approaching and we need to get organized. I’m going to trust that the spear of Gorias will guide us as it did in the caves with the zeevils.”
Doran and Aine nodded in agreement.
“Let’s prepare food and water for our journey. And Doran, I’ll need a horse.”
Aine stepped forward. “You can have Tynan.”
“I couldn’t possibly take your horse, Aine. I’m sure Doran can round up another.”
Doran remained silent, which wasn’t the response Evelyn was hoping for.
“No extra horses?” asked Evelyn.
“Many ran off during the fire last night,” he said. “Why don’t you take my horse, and I’ll ride with Aine on Tynan. If that’s okay with you, Aine?”
Aine smiled and patted Doran’s brawny arm. “Yes, and I promise to protect you.”
They gathered up their sacks. Doran secured his crossbow over his shoulder, and Evelyn tucked her spear into the rope around her waist. Aine had garnered a hatchet from one of the villagers and had fastened it to her belt. They left Doran’s room and met up with the group of villagers in front of the lodge. It was time to do some dragon slaying.
11
Ciara and Kateline sat in the chambermaids’ dining area sipping tea and finishing off the last of their ham and cheese sandwiches. With Lady Evelyn missing, all events at Verubri Castle had been cancelled and the ladies-in-waiting were sent to their rooms. This meant the chambermaids had the day off, as long as their chores were finished.
“Are you ever going to fill me in on this plan of yours?” asked Ciara.
“It’s a bit complicated,” said Kateline.
“Most good plans are simple. It’s the people who make them complicated.” Ciara rose from the table, wanting to show Kateline that she wasn’t dependent on her, though she was out of her own ideas.
Kateline reached for her wrist. “Wait … the plan isn’t complicated, but the background story is.”
Ciara rolled her eyes and huffed as she sat back down. “We don’t have all day. Either get to it, or I’m going forward with my own plan.”
“You have a plan?”
Kateline’s look of surprise gave Ciara a charge and made her feel in power again—a position she was far more familiar and comfortable with than the meek one who needs help. She thought rubbing it in just a little more would put Kateline into her place and keep her there for good. Then she’d hear out the girl’s plan and if it held any water, she’d consider it.
“I do,” said Ciara, sharply.
“Well, are you going to share it with me, you coy little fox?” jeered Kateline.
The way she leered at Ciara with her bewitching dark eyes put a hitch in Ciara’s heart. Damn her for being so divinely beautiful, Ciara thought.
“I have evidence against the goat girl that will most definitely get her into deep water with the prince.”
“What kind of evidence?” asked Kateline.
“Let’s just say, it proves that she’s not worthy of the prince. That she’s not a May Day baby. And that her bloodline shouldn’t mix with royalty.”
Kateline tilted her head, waiting for more. But Ciara had shared enough information for the time being. She didn’t want to give away too many details. Information is power, and Ciara liked having more of both.
“I su
ppose that’s good, but I still think you must appeal to what is most important to the prince, which is gaining more power. What if you could give the prince information that would help him expand his father’s—one day to be his—kingdom beyond the northern and southern regions of Galicia?”
Ciara had to admit, expanding the kingdom sounded extremely intriguing. What prince wouldn’t be awed by the idea of more power or more people to reign over? The thought of sitting next to Prince Kieran as he took over more territory sent a surge of satisfying delight up her spine. But Ciara remained calm and didn’t reveal any emotion, hoping to get more out of Kateline.
“You don’t seem impressed …” said Kateline.
“It sounds great in theory, but it’s, well, theory.”
“What if I told you I had the resources to conquer the southern empire of Russex?”
Unable to conceal her excitement, Ciara let out a gasp. “Did you just say resources to conquer Russex?”
Kateline nodded as she beamed a bright smile. “Do you remember what I told you of my brother, Clovis?”
Ciara tried to recall their conversation in the hallway, but the details were spotty at best. She’d only been half-listening to Kateline’s story because the details seemed superfluous at the time. But now they sounded vitally important. Kateline had mentioned something about her family coming from a southern region … Levant. Her country was defeated in some war and something happened to her brother. He was a warrior or something of the sort.
“Yes, of course, I remember every detail,” Ciara lied. “Your brother is a warrior.”
“Clovis is a legendary warrior from the Oxybii tribe. He and his men were captured by King Oren of Russex and sent to a country called Eshlan. If you can convince Prince Kieran to travel to Eshlan and negotiate with the leader to free them, Clovis and his men will fight for him in taking down the Russex empire. They will be unstoppable.”
It sounded like an interesting strategy: the enemy of my enemy is my friend … but something stirred inside Ciara.
“And why haven’t you gone directly to the prince with this information?” she asked.
Kateline smirked and elbowed Ciara lightly. “You don’t remember our conversation, do you? As I told you, the prince won’t see me. My lady-in-waiting is low on the priority list, therefore, I’m invisible. But you, my little fox, are not. You’ve already been into his chambers. He already knows you. Don’t you want to help Prince Kieran become more powerful than any man alive?”
Ciara stared at Kateline a moment before asking the most important question. “This is all well and good, and I believe it will work in getting the prince’s attention. But my question to you is: what’s your part in all this?”
Kateline took a sip of tea and set down the cup; her methodical precision was not lost on Ciara. “My brother will finally be free.”
Ciara scoffed. “Please, I’m no fool. That can’t possibly be your only motivation.”
“I’m afraid it is. I’m a simple girl from the country. Family is most important to me. I live to see my brother free. And to see my country of Levant free from the chains of Russex and King Oren.”
Ciara thought quietly and absorbed the information. Was it possible that some people could be satisfied with so little? She’d never understand the lack of passion in others. But this wasn’t her concern. She now had a strategy and would prove to the prince that she was valuable. More importantly, she had the dragon slayer’s journal which would provide evidence that Evelyn was a liar and a detriment to the kingdom. After she presented her case to Prince Kieran, he would have no choice but to dispose of the goat girl and promote Ciara from a chambermaid to his most desirable lady-in-waiting.
12
Outside the lodge, Evelyn counted twenty-one people suited up to go after the dragon. This included Doran, Aine, and herself. It was a small party, but she preferred to think quality over quantity. The team of men and women mounted their horses and at fifteen minutes before sunset, they rode through the village toward the Vindius Mountains. The trek to the foothills would take about an hour.
Evelyn expected their journey wouldn’t be pleasant as she recalled the treacherous mountain slopes and the wretched caves they’d have to enter. And then facing the fire-spewing dragon was another factor she’d have to contend with eventually. But what she hadn’t expected was turning a bend and happening upon Prince Kieran’s knights blockading the path.
“Dammit,” she muttered, immediately returning the spear of Gorias into its crystal stone form and shoving it into her leather vest pocket.
“Disarm yourselves and dismount!” ordered one of the knights.
Doran and Aine rode up next to Evelyn. “Let’s turn around. We don’t want any trouble.”
Ignoring him, she shouted ahead, “I’m Lady Evelyn and I forbid you to address me in such a manner.”
“Disarm and dismount, before we do it for you!” shouted the knight.
The knights sat atop their enormous black stallions, wielding swords that shined in the twilight. Though there were more villagers than knights, Evelyn knew it wouldn’t be a fair fight. She might’ve been new to the dragon slayer role, but she knew when she was out-classed.
She turned around to face her group. “Go back to the village. I’ll handle this matter.”
“But what if the dragon strikes again?” one of them yelled out.
“As I said, I will handle this matter. Go on before this gets messy,” Evelyn repeated.
The head knight rode forward and addressed Evelyn. “You have no authority here!”
“It’s me you want, not them,” Evelyn told the knight, then turned back to the villagers and shouted again, “Now, go!”
The flummoxed group of villagers turned their horses and retreated back to the village.
A couple of knights started to go after them, but the head knight commanded them to halt. “The lady is right, we’re here for her and the horse. Not the villagers.”
Doran and Aine dismounted from Tynan. “You can have the horse,” said Doran, handing the reins to the head knight.
The man glared at him through his helmet. “As I said, we’re here for the lady and the horse—both being the prince’s property. I suggest you walk away before you get hurt.”
Doran started to speak, but Evelyn addressed the knight, “As you can see, we’ve returned Tynan, but I will not go back to the castle. I have business in the Vindius Mountains.”
The head knight motioned to a few of his men and they surrounded Evelyn and yanked her from Doran’s horse. Within seconds, they bound Evelyn, Doran, and Aine together with a chain, then tied their hands with rope. One of the knights jerked the chain and pulled the three of them along, attaching the end of the chain around the neck of Doran’s horse.
“Please don’t harm my horse,” Doran pleaded.
The head knight rode up next to the three and lowered his head to Evelyn. “My apologies, Lady Evelyn, but I was ordered to bring you back to the castle. I’ve never failed the prince in the past, and I don’t intend to now.”
Evelyn studied the knight, hoping for a clever burst of inspiration before they started the grueling journey to the castle. But she was out of ideas and far more concerned about the fate of Aine and Doran.
“Sir, I beg you to let my friends go. It’s me the prince wants.”
The knight looked away without another word and proceeded forward with his men following behind. Someone smacked the hind end of Doran’s horse, causing the chain to jerk Evelyn, Doran, and Aine forward. They were forced to jog to avoid being dragged along the dirt path. If this was her treatment now, Evelyn couldn’t fathom her punishment when they reached the castle. Aine was squished between Evelyn and Doran and tried wriggling her way out.
“Be patient,” whispered Evelyn. “When we stop to rest, I want you to make a break for it and run as fast as you can back to the village and wait for us. You take the crystal stone with you and keep it safe.”
Doran glanced
at Evelyn. “Don’t you think you should keep it close at hand?”
“For the prince to take away the moment we arrive?” said Evelyn. “All of us can assume Ciara has told him about the journal and the spear of Gorias by now. I cannot risk him searching me and finding it. The stone is safer with Aine.”
“But what about protection against the bastard?” he asked.
“The spear will come if I call for it.” Evelyn grinned.
“You seem awfully sure of yourself, my lady.”
“At the rate things are going, I don’t have much of a choice, now do I? It’s either fight or burn …”
Doran smiled and leaned over and kissed Evelyn’s sweaty cheek.
“Gross!” Aine groaned with feigned dramatics.
“Apologies, I couldn’t stop myself,” said Doran, winking.
After an hour of light jogging through the dark woods, the head knight ordered the men to stop. All the horses came to a halt and the knight trotted back around to the end of the line and stopped before the group of three.
“Checking in on your condition, Lady Evelyn,” he said.
Evelyn laughed. “How very dutiful of you, sir. We’ve been running for over an hour. Both the girl and I must relieve ourselves. If that’s permitted by the prince …” Evelyn added an extra sneer to add emphasis to her displeasure.
“Trellox! Get down and assist with the ladies,” shouted the knight.
Trellox, the youngest and lowliest of the men, ambled his way to the back of the line. When he got closer to loosen the chains around the girls, Evelyn noticed he looked to be only a few years older than Aine. He was a boy and far too young to be fighting in battles for the prince.
“Can you untie our hands too, please?” asked Evelyn.
Trellox was about to call up to his boss, but Aine grabbed his wrist with her bound hands. “Please, this is already embarrassing as it is, sir. Can’t you just quietly untie the ropes and let us go about our business?”