Dragon Fate
Page 42
“But why keep him sterile? If she bore him an heir, wouldn’t she be able to govern the child and raise him to be a good king?”
“Possibly, if they didn’t produce another idiot. The adage ‘like father – like son’ is what the Queen is afraid of. You see, where you come from, promiscuity is the accepted norm, but the people take pains to avoid inbreeding. Here, promiscuity is less acceptable, but inbreeding has been regularly practiced to keep the ‘royal lines’ as ‘pure’ as possible. According to Brock, the Queen believes that Norton’s low intelligence is the result of that inbreeding. In her line, the line my family comes from, inbreeding is much less common. Still, an heir from the two of them would be little more than a toss of the dice as to the child’s competency, so the Queen is unwilling to risk the future of the country to such chance. That is why she has been taking the same herbal formula with her husband every morning for years; it has the same drawback, or in this case, advantage, for both sexes.”
Rita shook her head as if it hurt. “So why doesn’t the Queen just conceive with another man? And don’t tell me she hasn’t been lying with Brock since he arrived.”
“Oh, I believe that she and Brock have been having an affair for years. It’s probably the only thing that has kept her sane living here with an idiot husband and a bunch of scheming advisors. As to your question though, she can’t have a child now; she’s well past the age: she’s sixty-three. As to why she didn’t do so before, that’s actually pretty simple. Before an Heir of the Blood can be confirmed, he or she has to be proven by a dragon.” At her puzzled look, he added, “You do realize that dragons can smell your lineage, don’t you?”
There was a knock on the door, and once Rita had thrown on Delno’s shirt, they opened it, and Brock walked in. He apologized and started to leave, but they asked him to stay. He poured himself a glass of wine and sat in a chair near the bed. Delno then brought him up to speed on their conversation.
“Brock had mentioned it to me, but I didn’t realize it was literally true,” she replied.
“And here I thought you were really paying attention to my lessons,” Brock teased.
“Oh, yes, it’s true; that’s why Geneva’s mother smelled me so carefully and then pronounced me a Rider after she had heard my mother’s name. She knew I was Corolan’s grandson, and that her daughter was fated to be my Partner.”
“I’d forgotten about that part of the story,” she said.
“I hadn’t,’ Brock spoke up, “I suspected when I saw your face—you really do look like him—and once I heard that part of the story, I was almost certain. I didn’t tell you because at the time there was no point, and I wanted to make sure you had enough training before you found out so you wouldn’t get cocky.”
Delno smiled at Brock, and then turned to Rita, “Don’t feel bad, Beautiful, I’d almost forgotten it, too, until I read my mother’s letter. So, anyway, according to tradition, the heir would have to be smelled by a dragon and confirmed as the King’s offspring. Since lineage is so important to dragons, no dragon would lie about such a thing. That option just wasn’t open to the Queen, and she wants to do what is right for the country, even though it has meant not having children of her own. Lark knows where her duty lies, and she really is a good queen.”
“So, why don’t the King and Queen just abdicate in favor of a more parliamentary government?” she asked.
“These things take time, my dear. From what I have been able to gather from bits and pieces I’ve picked up here and there,” he looked at Brock and the older Rider nodded, “it was Corolan himself who started subtly manipulating the politics of this and other countries over two thousand years ago to get to the point we are now.”
“Corolan? But why? I thought Dragon Riders were not supposed to get directly involved in such things?” she asked.
“Don’t misinterpret that; Corolan never directly got involved,” Brock said. “He simply made suggestions here and there. He would spend time with the children of royalty and earn their trust, and then be around to advise them occasionally once they had reached adulthood and taken power. People resist change, so what he did was very subtle. He would make suggestions that would take several generations before the actual change he was looking for took place. To the people involved, it seemed like nothing more than a natural progression.”
“I still don’t understand why he didn’t just let the political system evolve on its own, though,” she responded.
“I’ll let Brock answer that question; he knows the story, and I’m just learning the whole tale.” Delno replied.
Brock took over the narration. “Corolan, as you know, was the oldest Rider alive. He was alive when all of the kingdoms and large cities we have now were nothing more than dozens of city-states. Those city-states were ruled by families, houses that controlled them. Then came the Clan Wars. The city-states fought horrendous blood feuds over the slightest provocation. The world hadn’t seen war on that scale in a long time. The houses were bankrupting themselves, and people were being slaughtered wholesale. Finally, with the aid of a few Dragon Riders, Corolan among them, two houses were able to take control and declare themselves kings. It looked as if the world would then settle down and have a chance to recover. However, a son from each of the two houses was captured, and their minds were wiped clean and their memories replaced so that they could infiltrate their own families and assassinate the rulers. The two houses were devastated, and, eventually, with the help of Corolan and the other Riders, they managed to relocate to the north. Otherwise, they may have been destroyed completely.”
Rita nodded and said, “I remember this lesson: The Exiled Kings.”
Brock nodded, “The exiled kings wanted nothing further to do with magic; even the Riders who helped them weren’t welcome, but Corolan never gave up on them. He went back as often as he could and checked on how the Northern Kingdoms were doing, and that is what brings us to the last part of the saga of Corolan. He was over three thousand years old, and figured that he wouldn’t live many more years than the normal life span of a human being, so he married a young woman he had fallen in love with.”
Delno said, “I’ve got a feeling you are about to tip my world on its side again, my friend.”
“Oh, yes,” Brock replied, “Your grandmother was a daughter of the royal house of Corice, a direct descendant of one of The Exiled Kings. You are part of Corolan’s grand scheme to bring the world under parliamentary rule to prevent something like the Clan Wars from ever happening again. He had hoped that by marrying your grandmother, he could bring Corice into a more active role in Southern politics. Unfortunately, your grandmother died in childbirth and Corolan, partly due to the need for a wet nurse, left your mother with one of his cousins whose wife had just had a baby, but he also figured that no one would look for a child of the royal house of Corice among the vanners. Just when he was beginning to make new connections in the north again and was preparing to present you and your mother to the King up there, everything went sour in Horne, and he ended up dying in the south, instead.”
All three companions were silent for several minutes. Finally, Rita asked, “So what does all of this mean for us?” meaning all three of them.
“I don’t know,” Brock answered.
Delno said, “It means that for now we stick to the original plan. We stay here for a while and recuperate while I train and Geneva matures. Then we settle accounts in Horne, which, I’m still certain, is where all of this trouble has come from in the first place.”
He let them digest that for a few moments before he added, “If we survive all of that, then we can decide what we will do about Corolan’s grand scheme and his plans to bring home The Exiled Kings.”
They considered that for a few moments, and then Rita said,
“Well then, since the plans are made, and our survival is not certain, I think it is time for Brock to return to his room, and you to take decisive action right now.”
The three friends laughed
and Brock got up and walked to the door. As he left, Delno said, “We’ll see you at breakfast, my friend.” Brock smiled at them as he closed the door.
About the Author
J.D. Hallowell has been, among other things, an automotive mechanic, a bouncer, a soldier, a dog trainer, a cowboy, a jeweler, a tow truck driver, a stereo installer, a battery salesman, an after-school program counselor, a psychiatric technician, an EMT, a phlebotomist, a paralegal, a medical coder, a photographer, a self-defense instructor, and a massage therapist. He lives and writes on the Space Coast of Florida.
A Portrait of the Author with Indie the Wonder Dog and a Hawk
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
About the Author