The Dragon's Queen (Dragon Lords)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “I think maybe we should rethink our positioning next time.”

  Llyr opened an eye. “Next time?”

  “I need a new adventure,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss the tip of his nose. “Until we’re forced to go to the Breeding Ceremony to look for mates, you’re it.”

  “So you are going to the ceremony?” He let his hands move up her hips.

  “I have to attend. I don’t have to marry.” Mede moved to stand. She winced as her legs straightened. Her knees were scraped from the fall. She silently offered to help him up.

  Llyr reached to brush the sand from his ass. The flesh stung. “There’s a medic unit in the bag.”

  “Clean up first,” Mede said. She walked to the water and skimmed a toe over the top. “You don’t want the medic healing bits of sand into your flesh. I like your ass as it is. No need to morph that pretty finish into something resembling a shaved yorkin.”

  “As my lady wishes,” Llyr answered.

  Mede arched a brow, but this time she didn’t correct his use of the title.

  Chapter Nine

  “The king sent a runner to summons you back to the palace immediately,” Tomos said. He kept his eyes averted from Mede as he looked at Prince Llyr. “He did not say why, only that there is a royal matter requiring your attendance.”

  “Was there no hint?” Llyr asked.

  “None,” Tomos said. “Only that you are to make the trip immediately.”

  Mede watched the two men with interest. Llyr had managed to lead her out of the cave without incident. The miners could be heard working in a different chamber, away from where they walked. When they’d emerged, Tomos had been lounging against a boulder waiting for them.

  Llyr nodded and then turned to her. “Join me?”

  “At the palace?” Mede shook her head in instant denial. “No.”

  “Tomos is staying here with his family,” Llyr insisted. “I’d like the company.”

  Mede glanced at Tomos who seemed surprise by the plan. Her voice a little too high, she answered, “No. I think I’ll go home to help my mother…do…some things. It’s not a long run to the palace. The paths are easy. You’ll be fine.”

  “As prince, you shouldn’t travel alone,” Tomos said. “Burden of the crown.”

  Llyr nodded at him. Mede gave Tomos a hard look. The man lifted his hands and backed away from her. He walked several paces ahead on the path, leaving them to some privacy.

  “Are you scared of the palace?” Llyr arched a brow.

  “I’m not scared of anything.” Mede stiffened.

  “I’m not so sure. You’ve been avoiding royal invitations for some time now.”

  Mede bit her lip. Lowering her voice, she asked, “So they’ve noticed?”

  “My parents? Yes, of course the king and queen have noticed the only female dragon on the planet has slighted the queen’s invitation by sending excuses in her stead. Repeatedly.”

  Mede stepped closer. One of her boots had been tossed into the pool when they undressed and now it squished every time she put weight on her right foot. She turned her head away from Tomos’ direction, to whisper, “Was the queen upset?” She thought of her mother, crying in disappointment at something Mede had failed to do.

  Llyr didn’t answer and she couldn’t read his expression.

  “If you insist I make an appearance at the palace, I will go.” She straightened her shoulders and tried to act unconcerned. They had bathed, but her clothes weren’t really fit for the royal court. Maybe if she made a bad impression, the queen would not invite her back. That thought didn’t make her as happy as it should have. She wanted them to like her. Not simply because they were the king and queen, but she wanted Llyr’s parents to like her.

  “Wonderful.” Llyr grabbed her elbow gently urging her to fall into step beside him. “The queen will be very pleased.” He dropped her arm and patted Tomos on the shoulder as they moved past him. “See you at the festival, Tomos. Good luck finding a bride.”

  Mede gave Tomos a strained smile. The water-logged boot made an audible squish-squish-squish noise as she walked after Llyr. The palace? What had she gotten herself into?

  * * *

  The run to the palace was easier in shifted form. Llyr wouldn’t admit it, but the summons worried him. His parents hadn’t called him back to the palace since he was a child. He checked in regularly, knew his diplomatic schedule, and sneaked away during his free time to hunt or camp, or more recently to pursue his future bride. Needlessly glancing over his shoulder, he confirmed what he already knew. Mede was there, shifted and running barefoot over the rough terrain. He’d offered to find her shoes but she’d just laughed at him, saying her boot would dry faster if she carried it.

  There were no clouds in the green-tinted heavens and the suns shone bright and hot, but Mede did not complain—not that he expected she would. The wide red and gray path they traveled was a direct route to the palace near the base of the mountains. Spear-shaped peaks shot up from the land behind them like a warning from the earth, becoming gentler as they headed south into the foothills. The farther they traveled, the redder the ground became, until the gray disappeared altogether.

  The feelings of dread did not dissipate as he neared the palace, though he could not fathom why he should be apprehensive. He wanted Mede to meet his parents. By all rights, he should be excited by the fact. Instead, he had the most overwhelming urge to order her home.

  “Someone’s coming,” Mede said, slowing her run to a walk. When he glanced back at her, she’d shifted to human form but her eyes glowed as she listened to the distance. “One man.”

  Llyr heard it as well. “We’re near the palace. It’s probably a guard.”

  “No. It’s Rolant,” Mede said. “I spent hours running with him during my initiations. I know his stride.”

  As if to prove her point, Llyr’s brother appeared on the path. Mede had a good ear. Llyr nodded, impressed.

  Rolant gave him a tight smile and nodded in greeting before turning to Mede. Instantly, he froze. Charging to Llyr, he demanded, “Gods’ bones, Llyr, why did you bring her?”

  Mede gasped in obvious shock.

  “I’m taking her to the palace.” Llyr glared at his brother in warning. Rolant glanced at Llyr’s neck where he still wore the wrong stone. “The queen has wanted to meet her for some time.”

  “Don’t you know what’s happened?” Rolant asked, his body remaining tense. “I thought you came back for—”

  “Father sent a runner to find me. He just said there was an important matter that I needed to attend to,” Llyr answered.

  “What’s going on, Rolant?” Mede inquired, coming to stand beside the brothers.

  “Cynan is gone,” Rolant said. “Two days now. Saben and Dylan found his abandoned campsite and Saben tracked a party of Var shifters into the shadowed marshes near Lord Myrddin’s fortress.”

  “What you’re suggesting is an act of war,” Mede said. “Do you think Lord Myrddin had anything to do with this? I know he hates us, but would he dare?”

  “We have no proof beyond his men patrolling closer to our borders since your run,” Rolant said. “That blond fur had to come from someone at the palace. I don’t know why, but most of the blond-furred cats are recruited as palace guards. I suppose it’s to match the décor?”

  “Did the catshifter give you any clue as to his identity?” Llyr thought of what she’d told him, of how the man had taken liberties and kissed her. The primal dragon in him wanted to find the palace guard and beat him for it. The more logical, albeit barely, male in him held the dragon back from such possessively dominant shows of love.

  Mede shook her head. “He was just a Var running in the forest near the marsh farmer. He was well groomed and spoke eloquently, but after Owain anything would have looked well groomed. He might have been protecting someone else in the forest. I heard a woman and man…”

  “What?” Rolant demanded.

  “They were coupling,” she
mumbled weakly. “Maybe the guard was there as protection? He said the woman was an offworlder and they weren’t married. Maybe the prince was running around the forest with someone who was not his wife? I heard married Var men often sleep with women they’re not married to.”

  “It’s called half mating.” Rolant frowned. “But the royals don’t half mate, not that I’ve ever heard of. Is Prince Attor even married?”

  “I don’t believe he is.” Llyr turned to Mede. “I don’t see the prince leaving the luxury of the palace to have a liaison. I have heard he is a bit…”

  “Delicate,” Rolant supplied.

  “Yeah, delicate,” Llyr repeated, though that was putting it nicely. By all accounts, and by the few meetings he’d had with the man, the Var prince was a spoiled child. King Auguste had even indicated in conversation that Attor was a weakling. “Gods help the cats the day that man comes into power. You might have heard an old house noble. They are the true threat. The king is more of a figurehead.”

  “That’s all that happened.” Mede gave Llyr a pleading look. He wasn’t about to tell anyone about the kiss. “We heard the couple. I got the fur. I left. Now what is this about Cynan?” Mede brought the subject back around to the missing dragon. The worry was evident on her face. “And why don’t you want me here?”

  “The king has assembled the Dead Dragons. Since Cynan is one of our own we are to go after him. Any of us within a five minute run of the palace is to be gathered for the search party.”

  “Yes, of course,” Mede answered. “Let’s go now.”

  “Mede, this isn’t a run to skin a cat,” Llyr said. “This isn’t going to be friendly. We don’t know what’s happening.”

  “More reason for us to get going,” Mede ground out tightly. “I’ve trained my whole life for battle. I’m not scared. I don’t want war, but if I’m called to battle I’ll go. I will not dishonor my family name.”

  “I forbid it.” Llyr knew the mistake of his words the instant he said them, but he didn’t want to take them back. “It is too dangerous.”

  “You have no right to forbid me from going. You’re not my parent and I’m not a child. You’re not my king. You’re not my anything. You’re the prince who should be more worried about answering your father’s summons to the palace than lecturing me on what I can and cannot do. I am a Dead Dragon. I have rightfully earned my place. And Cynan is not only a brother dragon, he is my friend.” She turned to Rolant. “And you, how dare you try to leave me behind in the mountains. I’ll find the others and ready myself.”

  Mede stormed away from them. Llyr moved to follow her but Rolant grabbed his arm and jerked him back. “She’s right, you know. You have no authority to stop her now that she is here.”

  Llyr reached into his pocket to hold up the stone. “This gives me the authority. She’s my—”

  “Your what?” Rolant demanded. “You haven’t even told her. And you are not her husband. She has to choose you first.”

  “Send her home,” Llyr commanded.

  “I told you not to let her get marked. I warned you to stop it when you had a chance. Now it’s out of my hands. She’s one of us and I can’t play favorites. Ancient tradition and the king’s decree dictate otherwise.” Rolant placed a hand on his shoulder. “She is here. She is coming. I’ll protect her as I would any of my brothers.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Llyr made a move to follow Mede.

  “No.” Rolant grabbed his arm hard and squeezed. “You go to the palace. I have the impression there is more happening here than just Cynan. Find out what. Protect our people. Do your duty.”

  “If she goes, I go.” Llyr jerked his arm from Rolant’s grasp.

  “You know it is not the same for you. You’re our future king and commander and are needed at the palace. This is one mission you can’t join us on.”

  “I’m not scared of the Var,” Llyr denied, even though he knew is brother was right. He’d earned his mark into their order, but he was held to a higher duty first—ruling a planet. Unless they were to go to actual war, he was not to participate in fights. No one would think less of him for not going. In fact, if he did go they might think he didn’t care about his people’s future. But what of his future, his Mede?

  “You know better than to think like that.” Rolant frowned. “Our father would not have sent the order unless the situation was serious. There has to be more to this than Cynan going missing.”

  Llyr hated his current circumstances.

  “Go to the palace and find out.” Rolant shoved his shoulder to get him moving.

  Llyr slowly nodded. “Find Cynan and bring him home. And, Mede, please…”

  Rolant nodded. “If necessary I’ll give my life for hers, Llyr, I swear it.”

  Llyr already knew as much. Rolant ran after Mede to where the Dead Dragons would have gathered. He stared at the place where his brother had disappeared into the tree line. Everything inside told him to go after them. But if he did, he’d dishonor himself by defying their laws. And, worse, he’d dishonor Mede by implying she didn’t deserve to stand alongside men.

  “By all the gods, keep her safe,” Llyr whispered after his brother. Is this how wives felt when the Draig soldiers went off to battle? The gripping fear and panic he couldn’t show the world? The desires of the man warred with the duty of a prince. “I beg you, whatever it takes keep her safe.”

  * * *

  Crossing the border into Var land for the second time was nothing like Mede’s first run. Before, it was only her pride that mattered. Now, Cynan’s life was on the line. The man might already be dead. No one knew why the Var had taken him. Cynan often camped in the woods outside the palace, living off the land and always opening his tent to a friend.

  She couldn’t think about Llyr, or how frustratingly mad he’d made her when he’d doubted her abilities in front of Rolant. He’d actually tried to order her home because it was too dangerous.

  “Save your anger for the Var,” Rolant whispered, coming to a stop near her. He didn’t shift back to human, instead speaking to her in the Qurilixian language. They ducked behind a tree, waiting for the signal to continue forward. “I know my brother can be a pain but he means well.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Mede lied, also not bothering to shift back. She needed her senses on full alert.

  “Then you weren’t just cursing him under your breath just now?” Rolant gave a small laugh. He was trying to lighten her mood, but she saw the worry around his eyes.

  “Perhaps I was.” Mede held up her hand to end the conversation and then nodded to the far brush where she saw a flicker of movement within the leafy cluster.

  Rolant followed her gaze. For a long moment, they held still. Someone ahead of them made a small whistle and a bird flew from the brush. She relaxed her guard and stood to continue forward.

  The green of her clothes blended with the surroundings, as did the brown of her armored skin. Var were at a disadvantage when shifted in the marshes, for their colorful fur didn’t always lend itself to hiding. So far they had traveled with little incident, following Saben’s lead to where the trail ended.

  They were close to the marshes, so close there were times they were forced to step into the putrid water. Nests of snakes squirmed in muddy burrows, warning them of how dangerous the water really was. Mede leapt over a particularly thick grouping, vaulting over the red and black tailed givre only to slide upon landing across a muddy plateau. Luckily, she retained her footing and didn’t make the journey on her backside.

  “Careful marking the ground.” Rolant commanded. Mede grimaced. She already knew, but couldn’t say anything to dispute his reprimand. The slip had been an accident. He nodded over the swamp to where she could just make out a stone wall rising up over water. “Myrddin’s fortress.” Moss a sickly shade of yellow-green that reminded her of puss and infection clung to the castle. From what she’d heard of Myrddin, it was a fitting scene for the man was a walking infection.


  Rolant led her away from the fortress. Seeing the other dragons gathered next to a small outcropping near drier land, they moved to join them.

  “I smell wet cat.” Arthur touched the tip of his crooked nose.

  “Myrddin’s castle fortress is right over there,” Rolant said.

  “Whoever took Cynan camped back there,” Saben pointed north from whence they’d come and then moved his fingers to point southeast, “but they continued on that way.”

  “That’s away from the fortress.” Rolant frowned. “So we are not blaming the old house nobles?”

  “What about the marsh farmer?” Mede asked. “The still I found wasn’t too far from here. He was angry that we kept knocking over his batch of liquor. I don’t see him being able to formulate the plan, but if he has friends…”

  “I thought the same thing,” Saben answered. “I checked the stills after the trail went cold. There was no evidence those drunks did anything more than pass out somewhere in the forest.”

  “Myrddin could have left the trail to throw us off and then doubled back here to the fortress,” Arthur said.

  “I don’t trust Myrddin, but we follow the trail,” Rolant said, his decision made. “If we storm the gates now and Cynan is not there, we lose any chance we have of finding him.”

  “Agreed.” Saben nodded once and stood to lead the group away from the fortress.

  Not much was said as they traveled on, deeper into Var land. Mede kept sharp eyes on the ground and trees, looking for clues that a group had passed. It was Dylan who finally picked up several tracks. The footprints were easy to follow but there was no guarantee it was the right group of Var.

  “Drag marks,” Saben pointed out.

  “Could be a hunting party,” Arthur said.

  “No prey in this marsh is that large. This has to be it.” Rolant didn’t wait for an agreement as he quickened their pace through the trees. Mede followed without question. The apprehension she felt was shared by all, she saw it in their unusually serious expressions. But not a single person showed their fear, not a single warrior hesitated.