Resurrection Of The Fallen

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “You do not?” Drystan countered.

  “Did you note his odd coloring?”

  “In fact, I did. Most astounding, is it not? I daresay King D’Vaire will become all the rage at the fair,” Conley said. “The other dragons will line up to see him.”

  “Some might say it is a curse to have such odd eyes.”

  “Those would be fools,” Drystan replied. “We need talk no more of curses. Are you familiar with King Ethelin? I know the name from the registry of courts, but I do not know of him personally.”

  “A most powerful king; we corresponded with regularity during Emperor Erhard’s reign. Has he some connection to King D’Vaire?”

  “Not anymore,” Conley retorted.

  “Your Majesty, we have only recently replenished the coffers of Court Draconis. How can we spare gold to set up a new kingdom for only six dragons?”

  “It matters not how many dragons are ruled by King Aleksander. He is new to his title, and there will be many more who wish to join him. And we have funds for them, we shall take them from the monies set aside to benefit small kingdoms,” Drystan said.

  “But that would be taking away coin from already established kingdoms.”

  “What would you have me do, Bernal? Defy Fate and ignore she has chosen King Aleksander for this duty?” Conley asked.

  “In this case, a delay might be permissible until it can be reasoned out why he is so different.”

  “That is not how Fate works. We do not question her dictates. We do as we are bid,” Drystan stated.

  “You are the Emperors of the dragon realm. You make the laws.”

  “In that respect, you are quite wrong. We were chosen by Fate to lead the dragons. Our duty is to see to those dragons. We are not given the power to set aside Fate’s desires at a whim simply because she has selected a new type of beast to lead a kingdom. Perhaps there will be more dragons of more than one color. King Aleksander should not be punished due to his differences,” Conley said.

  “I fear you may be making a grave mistake in this regard.”

  “I appreciate your concern Bernal, but I believe we are all quite safe from King Aleksander. He is a newly shifted dragon searching for a home for himself and the five others who chose to be D’Vaires. It is our job to see to finding that home,” Drystan responded.

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  “We will need the recent maps of dragon lands,” Drystan stated.

  “You will find upon seeing them that all our current lands have been allocated.”

  “Then we will have to take some of Court Draconis and gift it to King D’Vaire,” Conley retorted.

  “You wish to put this insignificant D’Vaire next to the most important dragon court?”

  “No court is more important than any other just as no dragon is more valuable than another. Get the maps, Bernal.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Several charged minutes later, Imperial Duke Bernal produced the maps and all but stormed out of the study.

  “That man is a menace,” Conley remarked.

  “For fifty years now, we have done our best to give him and the others the time and space to become acclimated to our presence. We have made little progress,” Drystan said.

  “Aye, but what choice do we have? They are nobles and we cannot force them upon any unsuspecting king.”

  “I do not know, but this cannot continue.”

  “I agree. After the fair, we will have to figure out a solution,” Conley replied.

  “Think you if Imperial Duke Bernal were gone, the other dukes would be more agreeable?”

  “It is a possibility. They do not outright defy us, but they do seek him out for leadership. Though if I had the choice, I would wish to be rid of all of them. We would have little trouble finding dukes willing to serve us and aid in bettering dragonkind,” Conley said.

  “Were you as unsurprised as I he was an associate of King Ethelin? He seems just the type to find a friend in a parent who would toss his only child out on his ear.”

  “Interesting he knew King Ethelin but did not recognize his son,” Conley commented.

  “Aye, was it the eyes and the hair that blinded him, or has he truly never met the young Aleksander?”

  “His appearance is a unique one, but I cannot see it would mar his ability to recognize him.”

  “What do you make of his having gold rings in his eyes?” Drystan asked.

  “I cannot make sense of it, but I find myself thinking Fate must have some great purpose set out for him.”

  “Mayhap he can be convinced to take over as Emperor.”

  “And where would that leave us, love?”

  “I have often said we need do nothing but shift into dragon form and find an isolated spot where we would lie about and spend our days loving,” Drystan replied.

  “As tempting as your words are, I would not wish this title of Emperor upon my worst enemy. Not with the state of this court. I simply could not do that to a newly shifted dragon like King D’Vaire.”

  “We shall give him a year or two to acclimate.”

  Conley laughed. “You are ever trying to be rid of your responsibilities. I am afraid Fate has stuck us with these titles, and we are to make the best of them until death finds us.”

  “Mayhap death will and we can find our new friend Simon de Traylly to turn us into warriors with strange glowing daggers.”

  “An excellent plan. Then we shall return to this castle and rid all dragons of Imperial Duke Bernal and his band of merry men,” Conley said with a grin.

  “It is settled then. I have a plan for our deaths as well.”

  “How shall we go about it?” Conley asked as he leaned close for a kiss.

  “This is the best part of the plot. We will retire to our bedchamber and copulate until we can no longer draw breath,” Drystan suggested.

  “A clever strategy.”

  “You had no clue Fate had given you a mate with such a cunning mind when we first met.”

  Conley grinned. “I feared you were little more than an overgrown oaf with nothing but air between your ears.”

  “I turned out to be full of surprises, did I not?”

  Conley stole a kiss. “I daresay.”

  “All good surprises.”

  “Like it or not, you snore something terrible in the fall and spring months. That was not a happy discovery,” Conley remarked.

  “Yet you endure it because your love for me is enduring.”

  “It endures beyond all good sense.”

  “Love is not intended to be sensible,” Drystan replied.

  “It can still catch me unaware at times, my feelings for you.”

  “I know well what you mean as I have the same difficulty. I would trade it for nothing.”

  Conley kissed him again softly. “All this talk of love has given me quite a hunger.”

  “For me, I hope.”

  Drystan’s mate hopped to his feet. “Perhaps later. I am off to the Great Hall to find my supper.”

  “You are most unbeaten when it comes to unraveling a tender moment.”

  Conley, who was halfway across the study, turned back to say, “I shall endeavor to make up for it in our bedchamber.”

  “I shall see that you do,” Drystan said before following him.

  Chapter 21

  Drystan lay over his mate, his weight upon his elbows, and kissed his man’s well-pleasured lips. Conley was still searching for breath after their lovemaking. The fire crackled and Drystan was glad of it, for there had been a chill in the air all day.

  “I found your body most welcoming this eve,” Drystan confessed.

  Conley’s lips turned up as a ghost of a smile crossed his face. “I daresay you did. I was terribly anxious for you to be inside me.”

  “I near expected you to grab your sword and demand it,” Drystan teased.

  Lifting his head from the pillow Conley kissed Drystan’s lips. “The thought did cross my mind. It
was torture plain and simple to make me wait thusly.”

  “A bit of a wait only adds to the pleasure, I have found.”

  “A small delay, mayhap, but that did not seem your intent at all,” Conley said.

  “You are most impatient.”

  “I still say your preference is to see me tormented.”

  Drystan opened his mouth to reply when there was a hard banging on the door.

  “Who dares disturbs us?” he roared. Everyone in the castle was aware the emperors were not to be bothered after they retired in the evenings.

  Instead of receiving an answer, the loud pounding continued.

  “For Fate’s sake, be gone,” Conley growled and Drystan rolled off him to knock some sense into whoever was interrupting them. Before he gained his feet, the thick wooden door was thrown open so hard it banged against the stone wall.

  A dense wall of men, all human, began piling into their bedchamber.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Conley thundered. Drystan did not hesitate, he stood and grabbed his sword from where it rested against the wall. He saw Conley roll across the bed and snatch up his own weapon.

  “Lay down your swords, perverts,” one of the humans yelled.

  “We will not. How in the hell did you manage to bypass our guards and enter our bedchamber?” Drystan demanded.

  “It matters not,” another one answered.

  “The hell it doesn’t. You will answer before you lose your lives for daring to enter the castle of dragons,” Conley shouted before calling out for Imperial Duke Bernal to attend them.

  “The only ones that shall die this night are the two of you,” the human replied.

  “No need to continue shouting for your guards. They allowed us to pass,” another added.

  Drystan, heedless of his nakedness, lifted his sword, ready to take on as many as necessary. There were close to a hundred men already inside their vast bedchamber but all he need to do was to get to the tiny window so he could crash through it and switch to his dragon form. To shift inside the room might cause the entire castle to crumble upon their heads. “Dragons are born with too much honor to commit the treason you speak of.”

  Several of the men advanced slowly, their weapons also raised. “Apparently not or we would not be here.”

  “Why would you seek to harm us?” Conley challenged as he readied his blade.

  “As if being so unnatural to shift into a beast weren’t enough, you also pervert nature by lying together and fornicating. Two men should never share a bed,” another human said.

  Drystan had heard enough. He took two steps forward and struck out with his weapon. As if they were of a single mind, a dozen or more crowded him. He could see Conley, out of the corner of his eye, who was similarly surrounded. Dragons were stronger than humans and Drystan took out two of the men near him with a single blow. It seemed as if ten more took the place of two, but they could not overtake one so powerful as Drystan.

  The clanging of metal rang in his ears as he began hacking away at the intruders. Conley was a blur on the other side of the bed, and Drystan knew he need not fear for his small mate. He had always made up for his size with unmatched speed. Thrusting forward, Drystan tried to take a step closer to the edge of the bed so he could retreat to the small window, but the crowd of men would not allow it.

  Slicing his weapon through the air, he assaulted three more humans and they fell to their deaths. In just seconds he’d wiped out several more, but it seemed as he was fighting a hydra. For each he cut down, there were many more to take his place. Looking toward the door, he saw it was like a spigot of men flowing into the room. For the first time, he feared for his life and for that of the man who held his heart.

  He heard a shout and whipped his head over to see Conley had been wounded. Blood spilled from a wound in his upper arm and Drystan noted with unease it was his sword arm. From his side, he saw a human try to take advantage of his distraction, but Drystan countered his attack and the man was dead before he hit the wood floor beneath their feet.

  For what seemed like a lifetime, he fought. Sweat beaded out on his forehead and traveled down into his eyes, but he took no heed of it. He was in a battle that was looking more and more like a slaughter and not only of humans. It was likely he would not survive this and yet he would not allow his resolve to leave him. He continued to use his weapon to make space for him to move down the length of the bed. So far it had gained him only two or three steps. He cursed the enormous piece of furniture and the stupidly large room with a mere slit of a window.

  From where Conley stood, he heard shouting but Drystan had no time to check on him. A sword sliced across Drystan’s thigh, and he held back a yelp of pain. The sight of his blood seemed to embolden his attackers and they struck at him more aggressively. He continued to exchange blows, but he knew weariness was closing in. To fight so many men at once while worried about the man he loved was asking too much.

  Then Drystan heard someone call out and like a lodestone, his eyes were drawn to the side of the bed. The sight that greeted him stopped his heart. His breath caught. Across the room was Conley, standing still across the large expanse staring at Drystan with pain-filled eyes wide with shock. But it was not his beautiful golden eyes that tore through Drystan’s soul. It was the sword buried in his chest.

  A roar that arose from somewhere so deep and vast Drystan could not name it tore through his body. With a strength he did not know he possessed, Drystan shoved aside the men closest to him so he could get to his mate. Drystan made it two steps before Conley crumpled to the floor. He shouted out his name, and pain like he had never known ripped down his spine.

  From some far distance, his mind registered he had been severely hurt. Indeed, when Drystan’s knees hit the floor, he was no longer capable of feeling it. Oblivious to everything but the need to get to Conley, Drystan braced his body down on his elbows and began to half-crawl, half-drag himself to him.

  As he forced his body forward, he felt the sting of cuts and knew the humans had not finished their foul work. He did not care. All that mattered was Conley. The world around him had narrowed to only him and finally, he made it to his mate’s feet. He hauled his own mutilated self onward and looked up at Conley’s chest.

  He was grateful the sword was no longer buried there. Regrettably, the instrument of death had been replaced by blood pumping out of it in a pool. Drystan could see Conley still breathed, though barely. Drystan raised his eyes to Conley’s face and it was then he heard the gurgling. Conley was moments away from his death, and Drystan could barely see him for the tears falling from his eyes.

  “Conley,” he whispered as he got almost close enough to touch his beloved’s face.

  He watched as blood dribbled from the lips he had kissed with abandon less than an hour before. Drystan’s vision began to dim and he knew he did not have long. This was not supposed to be his destiny. He should have had several thousand years more with his beloved, not minutes. Heaving his body forward, he found himself flush against Conley and he lifted his hand to place it upon the cooling cheek of the man who had been his companion…his true love since he was a boy of seventeen. Conley had been his true vocation, the light of his heart, and the entirety of his soul. Gazing into the stunning golden eyes of a dragon so beautiful it defied all sense, he saw the orbs were cloudy with pain but they still held the devotion of all they’d shared together.

  “Con, I love you,” Drystan managed. Conley moved his lips as if to reply, and a spray of blood flew from them. The life in his eyes dimmed and his lashes fell across the gold. As Drystan’s own ability to see diminished further, he kissed Conley’s bloody lips. A great gust of breath lifted, blew out of Conley’s mouth and then he fell still. Conley was gone from this world and there was no longer any reason to linger here without him.

  Tears clouded what was left of Drystan’s ability to see, and his soul had been torn asunder. He was glad of his multitude of injuries for he welcomed death. Lowering his
head, he laid it down upon the blood-soaked chest of his mate and with a whisper told Conley again of his love for the very last time. Drystan’s view of the world went black and then gratefully, he knew no more.

  * * *

  Imperial Duke Bernal was sorting through the contents of the desk used by the Emperors when his young son popped his head into the room.

  “The humans are coming down the stairs,” the boy said shyly.

  “Thank you, Zane, that is good news. Let us hope they have completed their task,” the duke replied and motioned for his child to enter the room.

  A few moments later a rather grizzled looking human was in the doorway. “Your Grace?”

  “Is it done?”

  “Aye, the men upstairs are dead.”

  Imperial Duke Bernal smiled. “Wonderful. There is a chest there full of gold. It is for you. Take your army and leave.”

  “And the villagers will meet with us to repent and give up their beasts?” the man asked.

  “Do not be ridiculous. The ability to shift into a dragon is not something to feel shame about.”

  “But you said—”

  “My good man, I lied. Now begone before the dragons here decide to dine on human meat.”

  Bernal was more than satisfied when the men retreated from the room with a great burst of speed.

  “Father, will we still have the fair?”

  “Of course.”

  “I only asked because I heard you say it was a bad idea.”

  “Only while the Emperors still lived, Zane. Should they begin discussing things with the kings of the realm, they would come to realize we had been collecting extra taxes to line our own pockets.”

  Zane looked a bit confused; he was much too young to understand the greed of grown men. “Will we have a new Emperor?”

  “Indeed, Fate will likely select another lamb to the slaughter. Now follow me, we have one last task to perform before we retire.”

  “What is that, Father?”

  Bernal didn’t respond; Zane would see soon enough. He crossed the expanse of the castle and found the rooms currently occupied by the D’Vaire dragons. Banging on the first door, he waited until it opened.