by Megan Derr
Immediately Troyes stopped moving and sat back on his haunches, making several more of those odd, barking sounds. His tail smacked the ground hard once, twice, and then went still.
Devlin eyed him suspiciously, but when Troyes only yawned and lay down upon the ground, he moved away from Midnight and toward the sound of the voice.
He stood at the edge of the incline and looked down.
At the bottom of the hill, he could just see Barra and another figure tangled together in the shrubbery. To judge from the curses now reaching his ears, it would seem the two were losing a battle to get free of the shrubbery.
They managed it a moment later, after a great deal more profanity, and both began to slowly climb back up the hill.
"I confess I am shocked, sir knight. I had not thought we mongrels and misfits worthy of your time."
Neirin regarded him coolly as he reached the top of the hill. "You should be grateful I did lend my assistance, rune master, else your mongrel here would be lying at the foot of the hill with a broken back—at the very least."
"Yes," Barra said, flinching at the word 'mongrel'. "I thank you for saving my life." He looked at the slowly dying orange flames. "Indeed, I think you saved us all."
"Quite," Neirin said. "Why has a dragon become a walking dead?" He looked around the clearing, and his eyes landed on Midnight. "What is that abomination?"
Devlin moved before he thought, grabbing Neirin by the neck of his shirt. "I tire of you, knight," he snarled. "Their names are Barra and Midnight, not mongrel and abomination. You saved our lives, I concede that point, but it is the very least you owe us when it is one of your own that attempted to kill us this night. If you damnable knights—"
He let go at the sound of a deep, angry growl, turning even as he pulled out runes.
"Enough," Neirin said sharply. "Troyes, it is quite all right. I know you would never let real harm come to me. These fools could never match your strength." He knelt as the dragon drew close and stroked his hands along the sleek scales.
His face softened as he petted his dragon, and Devlin thought for a moment he was seeing a man who was not the infuriating, arrogant bastard he would quite like to toss back down the hill.
Ignoring them for the moment, he turned to Barra. "Are you all right?"
"Quite, Your Grace. Nothing a good bit of rest won't fix right up. The knight saved me, sure as anything." His eyes flicked to the kneeling Neirin, something in them flashing, but then he looked at Devlin and smiled again. "Sorry I missed the fight; I hear that to see a dragon fight is a wondrous thing."
Devlin nodded. "It almost makes up for the fact they are quite unbearable otherwise."
"Enough," Midnight said, head tilted thoughtfully to one side. "The siren song has subsided. I think our enemy has once more retreated."
"No doubt all the angrier that we once more overcame his challenges," Devlin said grimly.
He turned as Neirin stood up, one hand still resting lightly upon his dragon. "By your leave," Neirin said stiffly, "I would like to hear whatever explanation you can offer. Whoever this person of whom you speak is, he is harming the clans now. That makes this dragon business."
"Why should I?" Devlin replied. "You have been nothing but rude since the occasion upon which we met."
"I saved your lives," Neirin snapped.
"Learn their names," Devlin retorted. "Treat them with the accord they are due, and perhaps I will see fit to tell you what you have until now deemed beneath your notice."
Neirin glared, his dragon growling. "You, rune master, have no business calling anyone insufferable."
Devlin started to snarl a nasty reply, but he was prevented by bright, rippling laughter. He turned to glare at Midnight.
Midnight only laughed again and smiled at him. "Devlin, stop making friends and let us adjourn to our lodgings. Barra, are you all right to walk?"
"Fine," Barra said.
"You," Devlin said, glaring at Midnight.
Midnight merely smiled and led the way down the hill.
Apple
"Barra, tea and whatever food you can steal from the kitchen," Devlin said as they reached their rooms once more.
"Of course, Your Grace," Barra replied, but he lingered long enough to take their coats and see they were properly hung, his gaze slipping more than once to the figures who had taken up seats near the fire.
Devlin quirked a brow but did not ask, relatively certain Barra did not want to be caught staring. He had not realized Barra was so fascinated by the clans; maybe he was simply keeping watch over a possible enemy.
Midnight brought two more chairs close, making a loose circle of four, and sat down in the one opposite Neirin, leaving Devlin to take one of the chairs immediately next to him.
Devlin studied their silent guest surreptitiously, not quite certain what to make of him. Dark gold hair gleamed in the firelight, and though it was pulled severely back, Devlin could see a hint of curl to it. His eyes, a deep brown, were focused on the dragon. He sat rigidly in his seat, almost reminding Devlin of a schoolboy who knew he was about to receive a dressing down and possibly a thrashing. He idly stroked the dragon's head, which lay in his lap, the dragon making low, soft rumbling noises.
Then it struck him.
Despite his posturing and arrogance, the knight was nervous. About what?
It was, predictably, Midnight who broke the silence. "You do not often leave your lands, do you?"
Neirin looked up, hands resting heavily on the dragon, as though seeking comfort. "I have never left them, save for an hour or so at a time, and always in the company of older, wiser knights. This…" He motioned to them, the room, "I do without permission."
"Oh?" Devlin asked, surprised. He was prevented asking further questions, however, as Barra returned carefully balancing a heavy tray.
Troyes gave a sudden growl. Not a threatening sound, more like one of interest. Sliding from Neirin's grasp, Troyes prowled over to Barra, who had set the tray down upon a large table and was busily pouring and arranging things.
He paused as Troyes drew near and watched in puzzlement as the dragon pushed against his thigh, then sat back on its haunches and stared at Barra.
"What…" Barra trailed off.
Devlin looked at Troyes, suddenly reminded of a puppy begging for scraps.
They all turned in surprise at the sound of laughter to see Neirin staring with fond amusement at his dragon. He stood up and crossed the room, joining Troyes and Barra at the table. "Aha," he said softly and reached out to pluck up a bright red apple.
Troyes growled low, butting against Neirin's thigh.
"Apples are his favorite treat," Neirin explained, realizing suddenly that all eyes were upon him. He smiled hesitantly—Devlin would almost say shyly, except even hesitant there was an arrogance to Neirin—at Barra and lifted the apple he held. "May I?"
Barra's cheeks flushed faintly, and he nodded, ducking his head to busy himself with the tea. "Of course." His fussing ceased as Neirin held out the apple, tea forgotten as he watched the dragon delicately pluck the apple from Neirin's hand and crunch it down in a matter of seconds.
"Say thank you," Neirin said sharply when the dragon would have wandered off.
Troyes growled and turned back to Barra—and suddenly was human, as easy as that. "Apple," he said. "Thank you, wolf-elf."
Barra blinked, eyes wide as he stared at the tall, broad dragon. "Um. You're quite welcome."
Making a sound remarkably similar to the growls of his dragon form, Troyes reached out and abruptly ruffled Barra's hair.
Yelping in surprise, Barra stumbled back, foot catching on a table leg—but he was snatched back from falling over completely by Troyes, who frowned at him. "Not hurt. No fear. Troyes good."
"Yes," Neirin cut in before anyone else could speak. "Troyes good. Now get over here before you give the poor thing an apoplexy."
"Good," Troyes repeated, then awkwardly patted Barra's shoulder before turning and slinking
back to Neirin, where he dropped to sit on the ground with his head against Neirin's thigh.
Devlin started to say something about the miraculous display of manners, but a warning look from Midnight made him reluctantly keep his mouth shut. Instead, he accepted the tea Barra gave him with a murmured thanks and watched their guest do the same.
"So why do you never leave the clan?" Midnight asked.
"I thought we were here to discuss the draugr," Neirin replied stiffly.
Midnight shrugged. "I meant no offense. Certainly we can move on to the draugr, if you prefer."
Neirin looked at him, then back at his tea. "The dragons," he said softly. "Everything we do is for the dragons." He dropped one hand to comb through Troyes's thick hair. "They can look human and act human, but to mistake them for human is a fatal error. They are living weapons and should always be treated thus. They act human only in the barest sense of the word." He hesitated. "There are other reasons the dragons must be guarded, secrets I cannot discuss." He shot a glare at Devlin. "I know the popular belief is that we do not care, but it is not true. It is simply that we must put our dragons first, in all things."
"Hmm," Devlin murmured noncommittally. "So if you must put them first and should not be here, why did you help us and then ask to learn more of the draugr."
"I heard the wolf," Neirin said, flicking a glance at Barra, who stared in surprise, then dropped his own gaze to his tea. "We were on night patrol and heard him howl for help. I did not think he would do such a thing idly, knowing full well he was in clan territory." He frowned. "I did not expect to see a draugr dragon."
Midnight nodded. "Someone is using a siren song to wake and control the dead around here. We cannot find the source. The song seems to come from nowhere and everywhere."
"A siren song to control the dead?" Neirin repeated. "Then, unless I am mistaken, should it not be controlling you?"
"It should, yes," Midnight said with a smile, "but I was always an odd draugr, and am now only odder still. No voice controls me but that of my Heartbeat." He touched the space over his heart. "Devlin."
Refusing to look at Midnight, knowing he'd just get caught staring and smiling like a fool, Devlin focused on Neirin. "So the dragons will help us now? It is possible, after all, that the sorcerer we seek is hiding on dragon lands."
Neirin frowned and shook his head. "I doubt it," he said. "If such a magic user was hiding on our lands, we would know it. Dragons are sensitive to magic."
"It is still possible," Devlin replied stiffly.
"It is not impossible," Neirin replied, just as stiff. "However, he would have to be supremely clever to avoid the greater part of two clans, since most of my own Clan du Lac resides with the Holy Pendragon right now."
Devlin snorted. "Of course no mage could fool that many. Whatever was I thinking?"
Anger flashed in Neirin's eyes. "You asked for my help, rune master, and I am giving it. I say only what I know—that it would be incredibly difficult to hide such powerful magic from so many knights and dragons. Surely the energy it would take to hide from so many would not be worth expending for a mage who is already casting a siren song."
Devlin scowled as he realized Neirin had a point.
Midnight snickered.
"It concerns me he managed to stir a dragon," Neirin continued, though the glint in his eye said he knew he had scored a point. "If he managed it with one dragon—"
"He will take others, or has already," Devlin finished. "I do not want to think about what manner of harm could be inflicted should several of those things attack at once."
Troyes growled low in agreement, and Neirin looked as though he would like to growl.
"If you like," Neirin said slowly, "tomorrow I can show you where our dead are buried. Perhaps we might find some clue there?"
Devlin quirked a brow at him. "Forgive me my suspicious nature, knight, but only a day or so ago you all but threw us off your lands. You insulted Barra then, and only an hour ago your manners had not shown much in the way of improvement. Now you are offering to show us a dragon graveyard? That sounds to me like a serious breach of clan protocol."
"It is," Neirin said levelly, but his temper was in his eyes. "I do not break rules casually, rune master. My decisions are not easy ones, and I did not make them lightly or hastily. You cannot possibly begin to understand the full consequences of my actions, so do not condescend to me." He hesitated and looked down at Troyes.
Who, Devlin noted with interest, was watching Barra, who did not notice the dragon's staring because he himself was watching Neirin.
Devlin looked back at Neirin. "Yes?" he said, when Neirin continued to hesitate.
Neirin sighed softly. "Sometimes life does not go according to the plans we make, or those made for us. When faced with the unexpected, a man can choose to bemoan his fate and do nothing, or accept it and forge the new path offered. I am offering my aid, rune master. Do you accept it or not?"
"We accept, of course," Midnight said before Devlin could speak.
Troyes growled low, nuzzling against Neirin's leg.
"Tomorrow, then," Devlin said, not quite able to dismiss the stiffness in his voice. "Where shall we meet you?"
Neirin smiled, all charm, and spoke with exaggerated cordiality in his voice. "At the location of our first meeting, shall we say? For the sake of fond memories."
"Fond indeed," Devlin replied with equal politeness, though his smile was all teeth.
Midnight rolled his eyes. "It's like watching two cocks strut around the yard, except there are no hens to impress."
Barra choked on his tea, setting it hastily aside, but did not pull a handkerchief out quickly enough to entirely muffle his laughter.
Devlin shot Midnight a withering look. "Why could you not remain at home like I told you?"
Midnight smiled sweetly. "If not for my presence, people might be impressed by your posturing, and we certainly cannot have that, Heartbeat."
Devlin frowned. Midnight never called him 'Heartbeat' unless they were alone or amongst trusted friends. Otherwise it was only 'Devlin.' If he was saying it in front of Neirin and Troyes, that meant he considered them…
Not trusting himself to speak, Devlin expressed his feelings by giving Midnight another glare, then set aside his tea in favor of fetching the brandy.
Troyes rumbled something indistinct and was immediately soothed by Neirin, who looked up after a moment. He turned to Barra. "I do not suppose you might tell me how to find the kitchens? We are out far later than we would ordinarily be, and by now Troyes is usually fed."
"What does he eat?" Barra asked, setting aside the tea he had only just picked up again.
"Meat," Neirin said. "Raw is preferable, but I'm certain whatever I might find would more than suffice."
Barra was at the door before he had even finished speaking. "Back in a moment, then," he said and did not wait for a reply.
"I did not—" Neirin frowned. "He need not have done that. I was perfectly capable of fetching the food myself."
Devlin sipped his brandy. "Barra likes to help." Not strictly true—Barra liked to help him and Midnight. Beyond that, he did not much care. It was more than a little peculiar that he had leaped so quickly to help Neirin feed Troyes. Devlin didn't like it, but he had no intention of saying so. "Stopping him is quite impossible. I think he is also anxious to prove he is more than a lowly mongrel."
Neirin's mouth tightened. "I apologized to him for that, rune master. You need not—"
"Enough," Midnight said, rolling his eyes again. "It is past. If Barra and I are not upset, you have no right to be, either."
"I'm a duke," Devlin said, knowing he sounded petulant but not particularly caring. "I have the right to be as upset as I please about anything and everything."
"You are quite intolerable tonight," Midnight said, shaking his head back and forth, looking more amused than put out.
Devlin said nothing, merely sipped his brandy.
Neirin looked as
though he would like to express his own thoughts on Devlin being intolerable but was choosing to keep them to himself. Instead, they simply glared surreptitiously at one another until the opening of the door finally forced a stalemate.
Troyes immediately stirred, shifting to his dragon form as he padded over to Barra, who held a platter piled with chunks of roasted meat. "This was the best I could find," he said anxiously, looking at Neirin. "Will it suffice?"
Neirin nodded. "If you set it by the fire, he will see to the rest."
Smiling faintly, Barra moved to obey, hesitating a moment after setting the platter down before finally backing away.
"You may not want to watch," Neirin said, smiling faintly. "He never could be bothered to learn table manners."
Troyes growled at him, amber eyes glinting, but was too busy decimating the meat to argue further.
Barra laughed and picked up his teacup, sipping at tea that likely had gone tepid. If it bothered him, though, he gave no show of it.
Devlin amused himself by thinking of all the lovely ways he would kill the bastard if he brought any manner of harm to Barra, who clearly had more than a passing interest in the obnoxious knight.
A soft laugh drew his attention, and he turned his head just enough to see Midnight regarding him fondly and far too knowingly. He was prevented from speaking by the chiming of the hallway clock, which rang only twice before falling silent.
Neirin frowned and set down his own tea. "We had best go. If I am gone much longer, they will come looking for me, and that will not end well. I thank you for your time. Unless something goes wrong, I will see you tomorrow to visit the graveyard. Three thirty, shall we say?"
"Three thirty, then," Devlin said.
"Then I bid you all a good night and peaceful dreams," Neirin said, standing and shaking out the folds of his coat, smoothing it out. He motioned to Troyes, who licked himself clean and padded over to push against Barra.
Midnight spoke up. "Barra, escort them to the pond, how about? If dragons do come searching, perhaps you can offer some alibi? We must do all we can to assist our new ally."
Barra nodded and set his tea aside again, moving to fetch his coat. Neirin looked as though he were going to argue, but in the end simply gave a nearly inaudible sigh. Troyes moved back toward him, and he stroked his dragon slowly, a frown on his face, looking rather more troubled than Devlin thought the situation warranted.
