Resurrection Of The Fallen

by Jessamyn Kingley

  Drystan grabbed him and pulled him down onto his lap. “I do indeed,” he stated before he swept his own tongue into Conley’s mouth. Settling against Drystan’s chest, he prepared to spend the next several minutes indulging in the passion that always simmered just below his skin for his mate. It was the best way to spend a productive afternoon in his estimation and he dared anyone to gainsay him as he had yet to meet his equal in the lists.

  Chapter 19

  1369 AD, The Throne Room of Emperor Conley and Emperor Drystan, Castle Draconis

  “Your Majesties, there is a messenger at the gate,” Imperial Duke Bernal announced as he entered the throne room.

  “What tidings does he bring?” Conley asked as he stood up. He’d been bent over the long table they had placed in the throne room. Though it was still several weeks away, he and Drystan were busy overseeing the arrangements for the dragon fair. It was the first one of their reign and they were both overjoyed to finally be able to host it.

  “He claims to only be able to share his news with the leaders of the dragons,” Imperial Duke Bernal intoned in a bored voice.

  “From where does he hail?” Drystan asked.

  “He will not say. He will speak to the dragon leaders and no one else. It is most unusual. He asked many questions including what title you carry,” the duke said.

  “How can a dragon not know our title?” Conley asked.

  “He is no dragon. Nor is he human. I do not comprehend what he is,” Imperial Duke Bernal revealed.

  “Not dragon and not human?” Drystan asked

  Conley met his man’s dark eyes. “And a message for the dragon leaders only?”

  “Shall I send him away?”

  “No, we would be most interested in speaking to him,” Drystan insisted.

  “Your Majesty, it would be most unwise to invite this person in. He may have foul deeds in mind.”

  “We are well able to see to this castle’s defense. You have your orders, Your Grace,” Conley said.

  “Very well, but do not say I failed to warn you should he do anything untoward.”

  Conley ignored the haughty duke as he left the throne room. “Drys, think you he could be a sorcerer of some kind?”

  “We shall find out soon enough, love.”

  Several minutes later, Imperial Duke Bernal returned with a short man—no, he was more boy than man. Conley doubted the youngster would come to his shoulder and he was of a smaller stature than many dragons. His hair was blond and he had a dark cloak decorated in a most unusual embroidery of skulls. When he got further into the room, Conley took note of his gray eyes. They unquestionably were not those of a dragon, and he’d yet to see a drakeling with a color so pure of gray.

  “Your Majesties, may I present the messenger who refuses to give his name,” Imperial Duke Bernal announced in a most disapproving voice.

  “Thank you, Your Grace, you may go,” Drystan ordered.

  “Your Majesty, I could not possibly leave you with this person alone.”

  “What do you suppose I could do to them? You are all giants,” the messenger remarked and earned a glare from Imperial Duke Bernal.

  “You see, Imperial Duke Bernal, we have nothing to fear from our guest,” Conley said without revealing the smile fighting his lips.

  “Very well,” Imperial Duke Bernal replied and stormed out of the room.

  “He is very unpleasant,” the young messenger declared.

  “By what name do you go by?” Conley asked.

  “Your Majesties, I am Simon de Traylly,” the boy announced and swept down in a courtly bow.

  “Simon de Traylly, you are either very brave or very stupid for walking into a castle full of dragons,” Drystan observed.

  “It is bravery, I assure you for I am not alone on this journey.”

  “Unless you have a man concealed beneath your cloak, you appear to be very much by yourself,” Conley said.

  “He would not fit under my cloak. You may show yourself, Gerard,” Simon invited.

  Conley’s eyes widened in his face when out of the shadows a tall man in a dark cloak emerged. He wore a hood that covered his head, and at his sides just beneath his voluminous cover were two strange green orbs of light which appeared otherworldly. Licking his dry lips, Conley asked, “Who is your companion?”

  “Your Majesties, this is my sentinel. He is called Gerard. Should anyone attempt to harm me, he will most eagerly kill them dead.”

  Gerard gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head as Simon introduced him.

  “What is a sentinel?” Drystan asked as he sat heavily onto his throne. Conley walked over and perched on its arm.

  “A sentinel is an assassin, Your Majesties. Every necromancer has one available to them.”

  “A necromancer?” Conley asked, the mystery of their messenger continuing to deepen.

  “Aye, I stand before you, a humble necromancer. I am a sorcerer capable of, among other things, raising the dead. My sentinel here is a fine example of what a necromancer can do, for he is quite dead himself.”

  “He appears well enough to me,” Drystan insisted.

  “The spell that was cast to allow him to slay throats for me sprung him from death. He is much like me and you today. Perhaps more like me as he cannot transform into a dragon,” Simon revealed.

  “I see,” Drystan replied, though Conley could hear the confusion still in his voice.

  “You said you are a sorcerer?” Conley asked.

  “Indeed, I am.”

  “We had not believed sorcerers to be anything other than fantasy,” Drystan confided.

  “We thought dragons to be much the same until some years past.”

  “You have known of dragons for many years?” Conley asked.

  “Aye, the warlocks told us of your kind. They used to watch you from afar. They had an ability to scry to see the past, present, and future.”

  “They have lost this ability?” Drystan asked.

  “Aye, for they are quite dead.”

  “Dead like your friend Gerard here or dead as in no longer walking around as the living dead?” Conley asked.

  “Dead and already roasted in funeral pyres, I am afraid.”

  “How does an entire race die? Or were there only a few of these warlocks to start?” Conley asked.

  “Oh no, there were many of them. They fair dwarfed the number of necromancers. Alas, how else could an entire race perish but through war.”

  “Were these warlocks not keen warriors?” Drystan asked.

  “One need not be a warrior if one has magick. They were fair skilled at that, but an evil tribe of elves calling themselves the Cwylld happened to possess a kind of stone which could absorb their power.”

  “Elves?” Conley asked.

  “Aye, surely you have heard of them?” Simon made a motion with his hands near his head. “Pointy ears. Tall. Most of them are peaceful. Not the damnable Cwylld, though.”

  “So, it was the warlocks, who are now dead because of evil men with pointed ears, who told you of dragons?” Drystan asked.

  “You have the right of it, Your Majesty. I did not believe the stories when I heard them but then in the sky, I saw a great beast I had only read about in books. You are a fearsome lot.”

  “What exactly is your purpose here, Simon?” Conley asked.

  “I am here because of the dead warlocks.”

  “If you wish to raise them from the beyond using your magick, I fail to see how we could be of aid to you,” Drystan said.

  “Should we do that, they would be little more than warriors like Gerard here. No, I am here on behalf of the Council of Sorcery. The leaders of our Council wish an audience with you to confer about methods of defense. None of us wish to wind up as the dead warlocks.”

  “Council of Sorcery? There are more than just necromancers then?” Conley asked.

  “Aye, the Council of Sorcery was created by Grand Warlock T’Eirick and his mate Grand Summoner Saura before their deaths.”


  “So, sorcerers have mates?” Conley asked.

  “Of course, Fate has given us the gift of them as it appears she has gifted them to you.”

  “I am most gratified to hear you follow the dictates of Fate. We feared if sorcerers were genuine, you would live as humans,” Drystan said.

  “Hmmph, humans. They are an unenlightened lot. They consider us all evil. We steer clear of them. I suggest you do the same.”

  “Thank you, Simon; we have already learned to give them space,” Drystan commented dryly.

  “Most wise, Your Majesty. Most wise indeed.”

  “Who else belongs to your Council of Sorcery?” Conley asked.

  “There is my leader, Arch Lich Chander Daray of the Order of Necromancia. The Circle of Druids is represented by Killian the Dwyer; the wizards are governed by Arch Wizard Egidius and the mages by Magus Superus Jurdann. The Arch Lich wishes to see more races join.”

  “And these men wish to discuss defense with us? Why?” Conley asked.

  “Your Majesty, have I not mentioned all the warlocks are dead? The Cwylld elves can steal our magick. Who knows what other group is capable of the same? The Council of Sorcery wishes to enlist the dragons to protect us.”

  “If they were concerned with gaining the help of dragons, why did they not appear at the gates themselves?” Conley asked.

  “Your Majesty, they could not predict the type of reception they would find at your castle. They wished to send someone like myself to test the waters.”

  “They were astute enough to consider it was unlikely we would harm a youth like yourself,” Drystan remarked.

  “Just so, and the Arch Wizard said if you were, then they would know not to trust you.”

  “Was he not concerned for your well-being?” Conley asked.

  Simon shifted his weight from foot to foot. “We are on friendly terms, are we not? Then I shall confess I find the Arch Wizard rather unpleasant. The others are good men.”

  “Did your Arch Lich not wish to protect you?” Conley asked.

  “Aye, that is why he suggested I call upon Gerard to see to my safety.”

  “He has much faith in Gerard,” Drystan stated.

  “Gerard spends much of his days training with his weapons. They are coated with magick of a deadly poison. It is that green glow you see emanating from his cloak.”

  “I see. Well, what say you, Drystan? Have you a desire to meet with the men of the Council of Sorcery and discuss the possibility of military alliance?” Conley asked.

  “Simon, you may tell your Council of Sorcery the dragon emperors would be most pleased to meet with them. However, we offer no guarantee we will be able to come to an amenable treaty,” Drystan cautioned.

  “Wonderful, Your Majesties. I thank you for agreeing to see me.”

  “It was most instructive meeting you. You may tell your Council of Sorcery we shall host an audience with them three days hence here at Castle Draconis,” Conley replied.

  “I shall be happy to extend your invitation,” Simon said, and they bade the young necromancer and his friend good-bye.

  As soon as the doors to the throne room were closed behind their visitors, Conley jumped to his feet and gave Drystan a smacking kiss. “Sorcerers, Drys. Sorcerers!”

  “Aye, it is most exciting. I look forward to making the acquaintance of the Council of Sorcery.”

  “What did you make of the sentinel? Gerard?”

  “He spoke not a word.”

  “I should like the ability to call forth an assassin at a moment’s notice,” Conley remarked.

  “A most useful skill, to be sure.”

  “The sorcerers wish to come here to speak of defense, but I fear it will take all my concentration not to pepper them with all the questions forming in my mind,” Conley said.

  “I am unsure if we can aid them. We have only recently come up with enough coin to salvage our annual fairs.”

  “Aye, but perhaps they are rich in gold. They may be willing to offer us coin to protect them,” Conley suggested.

  “It would give all of our aimless dukes something to oversee.”

  “Dragons are most adept at defense.”

  “What think you of the ability to raise the dead?” Drystan asked.

  “It seems to go against the way of Fate.”

  “And yet the sorcerers trust on Fate to give them mates.”

  “Most unusual,” Drystan replied.

  “Do you think these undead have memories of when they were living?”

  “How am I to answer that?” Drystan asked with a chuckle.

  “I was not truly expecting you to. My head is fair full of so many different things I cannot seem to keep my thoughts from lighting the path to my lips.”

  “I am as excited as you.”

  “I can barely wait for the next three days to pass so I might meet these leaders of sorcery.”

  “I find myself most annoyed that these elves destroyed an entire race, which is strange as I did not even know they existed when I opened my eyes this morning,” Drystan said.

  “Aye, an entire race does not die accidentally. These Cwylld must have sought out each one. It is beyond cowardice to make women and children pay the price of war.”

  “I agree.”

  “It is for that reason I wish to see us form an alliance of sorts with this council,” Conley replied. “If they are unable to see to the safety of their people, I am happy to offer them the aid of our fierce beasts.”

  “If their terms are reasonable, we will be more than willing to negotiate.”

  “Aye, in the intervening time, I shall scribble down all the questions I have for these sorcerers.”

  Drystan let out a chuckle. “A noble quest.”

  Chapter 20

  Two days later, Drystan found himself ensconced in his study with Conley when a knock sounded upon the door. They were busy looking over the ledgers as the taxes would all be brought when the dragons began arriving for the fair. Both Drystan and Conley wished to disperse gold to the kingdoms that needed it before they headed back to their homes.

  “Enter.”

  The door opened to reveal Imperial Duke Bernal. “Your Majesties, there is a young king asking for an audience.”

  “From which court does he hail?” Conley asked.

  “He has given his name as King Aleksander D’Vairedraconis.”

  “We do not have a Court D’Vaire,” Drystan replied.

  “It would appear King D’Vaire had been newly granted a kingdom by Fate.”

  “See him in,” Drystan ordered.

  “A new king? What a week we are having,” Conley remarked, his golden eyes alight with joy.

  “Sorcerers, newly begun kingdoms. I should say so.”

  This time when the door opened, a man who had an inch or two upon Drystan stood in the entryway. “Your Majesties, this is King Aleksander,” Imperial Duke Bernal announced.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. We wish to be alone with D’Vaire,” Drystan stated. They rarely allowed the nosy Imperial Duke Bernal to attend their meetings.

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” he replied before exiting.

  “Thank you for taking time to meet with me, Your Majesties. I am honored to be allowed this audience,” King Aleksander said with a bow.

  “Your eyes are most unusual, Your Highness,” Conley commented. Drystan looked to their visitor and saw what Conley had referred to. Instead of a single color of scales, there were two in his eyes. Both blue and black shimmered in their depths. If that were not strange enough, in addition to the silver line near each iris to denote his rank, there was also a ring of gold.

  “Aye, my father believes me to be cursed.”

  “And who might your father be?” Conley asked.

  “King Boian Ethelindraconis. After my first shift when it was revealed my dragon had more than one color, he bade me leave his court. Once I left the confines of the castle gates, I received the silver and gold as well as seeing the name of
my kingdom on my arm,” King Aleksander said.

  “Are you a kingdom of one?” Drystan asked.

  “No, Your Majesty. Five dragons followed me from my father’s castle. They are now enjoying a repast in your Great Hall.”

  “Are you prepared to add more dragons should they wish to join your court?” Conley asked.

  “It would be an honor to see to the lives of all those that find faith in me.”

  “Your hair has some blue in it too, does it not?” Drystan asked. The young king had raven hair, but there was blue mixed in.

  “It does.”

  “Do you believe yourself to be cursed?” Conley asked.

  “I do not.”

  “I am glad to hear it as I daresay curses are no more than an imagination gone wild,” Drystan said.

  “I am of the same opinion, Your Majesty.”

  “It would seem you and your followers need land and shelter.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. My father’s first, Duke Drogo, advised me to travel here when my father asked me to leave. I was headed this way when Fate made her decision to make me a king.”

  “And your mother? Was she also ready to see the back of you?” Conley asked.

  “My mother is long dead, Your Majesty.”

  “My condolences.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Have you siblings?” Drystan asked.

  “I do not, Your Majesty.”

  “King Aleksander, you may join your court in the Great Hall to partake in the refreshments. You shall join us for supper. We have ample space to house you until arrangements can be made to find a permanent home for Court D’Vaire,” Drystan invited.

  “You have my thanks; we will endeavor to not be irritants to Castle Draconis.”

  “I hope you find your stay at Castle Draconis a pleasant one. Will you ask Imperial Duke Bernal to come in? He is likely just outside in the hall,” Drystan said. The truth was, the duke was always doing his best to eavesdrop.

  “Of course, Your Majesty, thank you again for your kindness.”

  The exotic looking King D’Vaire left the study and was soon replaced by the much more repulsive Imperial Duke Bernal.

  “Bernal, we will need to find a kingdom for Court D’Vaire,” Conley declared.

  “You think that is wise?”