Dragons and Destiny

by Candy Rae

  “Deal,” pronounced Danal.

  * * * * *

  Elliot and Robain

  “Did you managed to speak to Rilla?” asked Elliot of Robain two days later, the day before they were due to leave Vada.

  “Yes I did,” replied Robain. “I feel like a member of the Express. I’ve got letters from her to her family in Stewarton now.”

  “She’s not like her sisters is she?”

  “Now that I think of it, no, but life would be dull indeed if everyone was the same. Rilla’s quiet but nice in her own way.” Robain looked at Elliot, “you liked Zilla, didn’t you? More than you should.”

  Elliot sighed. “I can’t get her out of my mind,” he admitted, “I try but her face haunts me.”

  “I’d say you’re showing the classic symptoms of young love.”

  “Even if I am it can’t go anywhere,” said a morose Elliot.

  “Because you’re a prince and she’s the daughter of an innkeeper?” Robain’s voice was tinged with scorn but Elliot didn’t respond,

  “That might have been the case before I came on this trip but not now. If I really wanted to marry her my Father could probably have arranged it, though the Dukes in Conclave would have had collective apoplexy.”

  “Could have? Past tense?”

  “I am betrothed,” answered the despondent Elliot and with a sigh that travelled all the way down to his boots. “The betrothal is sanctified. In the sight of God I am already married.”

  “I didn’t know,” said Robain, placing a comforting hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “Is she a nice girl this fiancée of yours? Do you love her?”

  “I hardly know her,” Elliot replied, “but James has told me about her. She’s his sister.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Isobel. Margravessa Isobel Cocteau. She’s a bit younger than me, never been at Court and is convent educated. I suppose I’d rather her than a complete ignoramus. At least we’ll be able to talk about books and things. James says she enjoys reading. I like to read too, much of what you read about is jolly interesting. All Zilla could be is a mistress and I couldn’t do that to her, not that we had long together, not long enough to really know, not deep down.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t take long,” observed Robain.

  “I’m all mixed up inside. Is it love Robain?”

  “Or infatuation. Is that what you’re asking?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Either, both,” Robain answered. “I certainly fancied enough girls when I was your age. Never felt that I was falling in love with them though. So there’s no easy answer I can give you. You’ll have to work it out for yourself. It’s a part of growing up.”

  “How do I work it out?”

  “You looking for advice?” Robain sat down beside Elliot.

  “Yes.”

  “Then my advice to you is to carry on with the tour. Don’t try to forget about Zilla. Let your memories flow. Try to enjoy yourself and if at the end of your tour, if you still feel the same, make your decision then. You might decide that duty to Isobel comes first, perhaps you won’t. As you say, you were only in Zilla’s company for a few days and I agree that it’s not long enough.”

  “Philip would say duty first.”

  “Perhaps Philip would be right, you’re a prince, a future king, you’ve been taught duty first, self second right? Rather like an officer is taught to put the men and women under his command first. A good officer always sees to their comfort before his own. Also, time is a great healer, I should know. You don’t forget but time blunts the pain.”

  He sighed, memories of his childhood on Hallam coming to the fore.

  “I spent longer with her than I did with Isobel,” said Elliot.

  “True, and you are formally betrothed to the girl. You also have to remember that she is of your class, brought up to know her duty.”

  Elliot nodded.

  “Brought up to know her duty,” repeated Robain, “what is expected of her. Zilla has not been brought up so. Perhaps in the long run you’ll be happier with Isobel, Zilla might not be happy with life in the south.”

  “You think that’s important?” Elliot asked, “surely if we love each other?”

  “I do. Anyway, how do you know that she is thinking of you as you are of her? She might have forgotten about you already.”

  “I never thought of that,” gulped a stunned Elliot. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “Takes two to make a relationship and neither of you made any promises to each other did you?”

  “Well, no.”

  “So let’s get on with the tour, things might look different by the time you head for home and, and, cheer up for lai’s sake.”

  “I’ll try,” said Elliot, “and thanks.”

  “Good lad, and if you need to talk come and ask. I’m a good listener.”

  “I will,” promised Elliot.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 8

  AL607 - Second Month of Winter (Vadthed)

  Elliot

  “It was pretty decent of Merchant Urquhart to offer to put us up like this,” announced Elliot to James. “They didn’t need to either, we could have found rooms at one of the hotels, there are plenty of them.”

  “This is better than any hotel,” said James, lounging in one of the comfortable chairs in their host’s drawing room. “It’s far nicer than even one of our manors though the rooms are so much smaller.”

  “I’d like a house like this,” admitted Elliot, “a real home and I might build one. Even grandfather escapes from the palace to that hunting lodge of his at least once a year, though that’s a place which takes uncomfortableness to its absolute limits.” Elliot suppressed a shiver. “That winter when he took us, do you remember? I’ve never felt so miserable.”

  “It was cruelty to dumb children,” agreed James.

  Elliot laughed, “well you’ll never have to go there again. Trip over and you return to Cocteau and Katia. You staying there?”

  “That largely depends on you. If you want me to continue to attend you, you only have to ask.”

  There is a position open for a gentleman of the bedchamber,” twinkled Elliot, “would that do?”

  “Perfectly and you know it, now let me cuddle down into the cushions of this oh so comfy chair and have a nap. It’s so wonderful to feel warm again.” He closed his eyes with a theatrical gesture.

  Elliot continued to sit on one of the other chairs, dreaming into the fire.

  The journey to Stewarton had been an unpleasant one. As Robain had predicted, the delayed winter rains had arrived, turning the West North Trade Route into a seething mass of mud and running water. From sixteen miles a day, their previous average, they had been lucky to do six and often much less.

  Cold, wet and miserable, they had struggled on. Behind them Danal and Asya had been just as cold and wet and Danal had cursed these crazy southerners for wanting to travel in the middle of the rainiest months of winter.

  It was now well into Vadthed and they had arrived at Stewarton well behind schedule.

  Philip had gone to make his report to the Murdoch Ambassador in Argyll. Robain was in the next room (there was a connecting door) sorting out his uniform which had been sent on from Settlement. He had been told that he would be starting a temporary assignment as aide to the Garda General commanding in this area as soon as Philip and the others were ready to leave Stewarton for Port Lutterell on the eastern coast. Derek Merriman, recovered from his injuries had rejoined the party and would resume his protection duties.

  Elliot didn’t want Robain to leave them, he had asked him to stay but Robain had reminded the prince that he was a serving officer and that the decision wasn’t his to make but if it could be arranged he would to go with them to the port where Elliot would take ship for home.

  Home - to Court - to his marriage with Isobel. Elliot had not managed to forget Zilla. As the days passed he realised he didn’t want to.

  Love at fir
st sight. I used to laugh when I heard people say it.

  The four southerners and Robain were staying at the home of the triplet’s eldest sister Zala and her husband Matt, who Elliot had found out was one of the richest, if not the richest merchant in Argyll.

  The Urquharts had five children, who unlike Elliot who had been kept in his own rooms of the royal nurseries as a child, roamed the house almost at will, much as Elliot would have liked to have roamed the palace. They didn’t have tutors or governesses either. The Urquhart children went to school, even the youngest, who was four and who attended a small nursery establishment every workday morning.

  Also residing there was Tala, Zala’s younger sister, a Journeyman Technician and as Elliot had realised, a very clever and independent young woman. She worked at the main Technician’s Guildhouse in the business quarter of Stewarton.

  She had promised to take Elliot and James for a visit during the next few days. Matt, Zala’s husband had also offered to take the four to the Council Chambers to see Argyllian government in action. They had also been promised a sail round Lake Stewart. Even lazy James was looking forward to that.

  Elliot wondered sleepily how long it would be before Philip returned. He was to bring back any letters the Ambassador had been keeping for them, together with news from home.

  Home. Why is grandfather standing on his head?

  Elliot had succumbed to sleep and was dreaming of a blond girl riding her pony through the mist. However hard he tried to catch up with her she stayed out of his reach.

  He was wide awake the next morning and sitting with the family at breakfast; crisp fried tranet with equally crisp buttered wheat-toast, an expensive luxury, when Matt turned towards his guests and asked what they were intending to do that day.

  “Tala and I will be off to work presently and I wondered if later some or all of you might like to visit the House?”

  “The House?” queried Elliot, confused.

  “Where I work,” explained Matt. “Our main offices are here, also a small warehousing facility. We have larger warehouses on the outskirts of town and others dotted round the country, mostly at the docks of Port Lutterell, Port Wylie and Settlement. Makes for easier transportation. No point bringing the goods we trade in here only to send them back out again.”

  “That makes good sense,” Elliot observed. He had received a fair grounding in economics from his tutors. “Transport is very costly.”

  “Incredibly so,” agreed Matt, eyeing his young guest with interest. “It’s nice to meet someone with an appreciation of what its like to be in merchanting. Would you like to come and see us in action today?”

  “Very much sir,” Elliot answered, “if its not too much trouble and I won’t be in the way.”

  “I’d like to go as well,” volunteered Derek who knew that at least one of them would have to go with Elliot.

  Philip had brought back disquieting news the previous evening.

  The attack on Elliot at Settlement had not been an isolated incident. There had been two others.

  The first had been an attempt on the life of Elliot’s father.

  Prince Paul had gone riding in the forest that surrounded one of his manors with only a few attendants and the party had been ambushed by a group of ruffians. In the short but bloody fight had ensued the prince had been wounded, although not seriously and two of his bodyguards had been killed. The surviving attackers had fled into the forest when they had realised that their attempt had not been successful and so far had not been caught.

  The second attack on the royal family had been less direct.

  It had been poison. Fatal doses had been found not in one but two of the dishes intended for the three princesses, Elliot’s sisters. The poison hadn’t been distributed evenly inside the dishes and an attendant had died after one spoonful. The princesses and another attendant had been ill but had recovered.

  “I’ll go along,” offered Philip. “I’m interested too.”

  “That’s settled then,” announced Matt. “James, what about you? I know Robain is going in with Tala. His General is out of town.”

  James had no desire to see any workplaces, interesting or not.

  “If you don’t mind sir,” he said, “I’d prefer not.” Indolent by nature, James had decided that a lazy day in the comfort of his present surroundings was the preferred occupation.

  Philip had other ideas.

  “You can go to the horse fair if you’re not planning anything else,” said Philip. James hid a groan. The weather outside was inclement to say the least and a trip to the fair would take the entire day.

  “Well?” asked Philip, a warning note in his voice and James bowed to the inevitable.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good. You’ve a good eye for horses. I want you to get another two, one riding and another pack-mare. You know what we are looking for. Reserve them and I’ll go along and pay for them tomorrow.”

  “Yes sir,” repeated James with false brightness though his thoughts were lightening as he thought about the challenge. The day might not be so bad after all, the rain might clear and perhaps a few candle-marks spent at the fair would be better than being cooped up all day inside a building.

  “The day after tomorrow I’ll take the day off and we’ll go for that sail round the lake. I’ve been told the weather will be brighter then,” said their host, “you did say you were going to the museum tomorrow?”

  Philip nodded.

  “Can we come too, the boat trip I mean?” asked an excited young voice from the end of the table where the children sat. It was Matt and Zala’s eldest, Mathieu.

  “All of us,” promised his father, “a day off from your studies won’t harm you for once.”

  Blissful sighs and grins of pure delight!

  “I’ll sort out a picnic,” their mother said.

  “Now we’d best be off,” said Matt, “the carriage will be at the door before we know it. Those coming with me best get ready. Tala?”

  “We’re going by omnibus,” she said, “they pass by the bottom of the hill every half bell. I know your carriage is big but it’s not an expanding one.”

  “And you,” said Zala, turning to the children, “had better get yourselves off to school or you’ll be late.”

  There was a general scrimmage as everyone rose from the table to prepare for the day although Mathieu did so with some reluctance. He had taken quite a shine to James and had been hoping for an invite to go with him to the horse fair. Like James as a boy, he was no student.

  “Never mind,” whispered James to him as the left the dining salon, “don’t push your luck. It doesn’t pay. I’ll show you my sword this evening and might even let you hold it.”

  Mathieu went off to school, partly mollified.

  A day later the weather remained dull and wet. Philip was glad they had made arrangements for the museum visit. For all James’s words and theatricals about enjoying lazy days he was apt to get restless if cooped up inside and a restless James was not an easy James to have around.

  * * * * *

  The curator of Stewarton Museum enjoyed taking foreign visitors on conducted tours. Unofficially, these well-to-do young men, often accompanied by their tutors or family retainers would give the curator a tip as a reward for his time. The salary the curator earned was not a large one and he had a family to support.

  Thus he approached the group who had arrived in a suitably deferential yet knowledgeable manner and asked if the young gentlemen would require his services.

  “Yes we would,” answered Derek. “How much?”

  The curator shrugged, a clear indication if one was needed that there was no set fee.

  Derek understood and brought from his belt pouch a silver florin and added another.

  The curators eyes gleamed bright as stars, “for that young sir,” he said, “I will give you and your friends my special tour.”

  “Great,” said Elliot with a thanking glance at Derek, “where do we start?” />
  “At the beginning, it’s in the room here on the left” the curator answered. He indicated the open doorway with a wave of his hand. “We have a lot of memorabilia from our earliest days on Rybak and some from before. We can look at that first then we can move on to the area devoted to our Lind friends if that is your wish?”

  “It is,” affirmed Elliot.

  He led Elliot, Derek and Philip, with a reluctant James at their heels, through the red door way into a long narrow room with display cabinets on either side. It was lit from above via large skylights and as Elliot was quick to notice, the objects would even be able to be seen when it was dark outside because of the lighting bars, electric lights Robain had called them, set high on the walls. Stewarton was connected to the hydro-electric plant up in the hills, the only one on the continent so far.

  “This cabinet,” began the curator, “houses our oldest home exhibits except those directly relating to the Lind. The items we brought with us are housed through the archway at the far end of this room.”

  “Can we see them too?” asked Elliot.

  “Don’t see why not, they’re on open view, they’re not a secret, few visitors want to look, they’re not interested. That’s why they’re tucked away.”

  “Strange,” mused Elliot.

  “Many of them are incomprehensible to us,” the curator explained, “things which don’t work any more.”

  They walked down the narrow aisle looking in the cabinets and asking the curator questions. He could answer every one and explained each and every one in great detail, much to everyone’s enjoyment but James who would have preferred a much quicker tour.

  “This,” he said impressively, stopping before a portrait of a young woman with an abundance of curls framing her elfin face, “is Tara Sullivan, the very first human to bond with a Lind. She and her Lind Kolyei were authors and their books are still read today and this,” he pointed to an old, yellow-paged book sitting open in a nearby cabinet, “is, we believe, the original handwritten copy of volume one of their Tales of Rybak.”