Flight of Dragons
Page 20
Daisy wasn’t so cautious. Shortly after the beast locked the door, the child flung herself on the bed and began to jump. Not wanting to ruin the her fun, Freya stood guard at the door, ready to throw herself on the beast’s mercy.
With each minute that passed in peace, Freya breathed a little easier and finally allowed herself to enjoy her baby’s laughter.
“Come and play too, Mama,” Daisy ordered.
With one last worried look at the door, Freya joined her daughter on the bed. She slipped the back hem of her skirt between her legs and under the ankle chain to hold it up and out of the way. Then she and Daisy jumped and laughed until exhaustion finally took over.
They were laying quietly, snuggled together on the bed when Daisy voiced Freya’s thoughts. “Something is different, Mama. The beast was almost…nice.”
“Yes, he was.” And she didn’t trust it. She kept her thoughts to herself, though. There had already been too much fear in Daisy’s young life and Freya was determined to shield her sweet baby from as much nastiness as she could.
She dozed off and the next thing she knew, the key was rattling in the lock. She grabbed Daisy and shuffled to the far corner as fast as her hobble would allow. Daisy took up her usually position on the floor behind her.
The dragon slowly entered the room and placed two dishes heaped with food on the table without so much as a glance at his prisoners.
Freya didn’t know what to make of this new behaviour at all. It made no sense. Was he planning to kill them and lulling them into a false sense of security, first? Was the food poisoned? It smelled delicious.
Stew. It had been so many years since she’d had stew. The beast never let them go hungry, but their meals tended to be what she’d consider the bare minimum to sustain life.
She eyed the door warily before she approached the table. She would take a small taste and wait. If it was poisoned, she should know fairly quickly and be able to warn her daughter off. If she were dead, perhaps the beast would let Daisy go. She wouldn’t allow her delusions to get to the point of hoping the beast would go so far as to return her daughter to Graeme.
The stew tasted heavenly and it was hard for her to stop at just the one spoonful. “Be patient, my lovely. A few minutes more. And if all seems well, you may eat it.”
Freya made herself silently sing every lullaby she knew twice before she allowed herself to believe the food hadn’t been poisoned.
She sat Daisy down to eat from the dish she’d already sampled, then ate a spoonful from the other dish and silently sang lullabies. After all this time, she wasn’t about to let her guard down over a few nice gestures.
“This so good, Mama. How come we’ve never had this before?”
“I don’t know, my lovely. Enjoy it now, but remember it is probably only a very special treat and everything will be back to the way it was tomorrow.”
“I like very special treats.”
Freya groaned inwardly even as she agreed with her baby. The last thing she needed was for Daisy to expect their lives to now be filled with comfort and delicious food. It will be all the harder for her to cope when it was all yanked away.
For the moment, Freya would gratefully accept any kindnesses the beast bestowed upon them. But she wouldn’t allow herself to take them for granted. If she ever escaped this place, she would take nothing for granted.
***
From the top step, the dragon sat and listened to Freya and the child. His guilt weighed heavy on his heart when the child had said she liked very special treats. When had he become such an evil creature? Being conscious of his irrational reaction the night before had been like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on his face.
From the beginning, he’d known he was being contemptible, but he’d justified himself by blaming Greymoor. Eventually his anger diminished, but by the time he’d calmed down, he’d established their way of life and he felt urge to disrupt the status quo.
When he’d heard the child ask about a man, his anger resurfaced with an intensity he hadn’t felt in years and he’d reacted without thinking. Of course there was no man up there and the realisation hit him square in the chest when he opened the door and surveyed the room.
After all these years, he knew there was no where for even the wee girl to hide except behind her mother. Unfortunately, by that point, the dragon was feeding off his anger and had taken over completely. And as hard as he’d tried, he’d been unable to stop it.
The child’s silent tears had been more than his heart could bear. No matter how angry he’d been at Freya and Greymoor, he had no business punishing the child.
He returned to his room and pondered the situation. Something had to change.
***
Walter still wasn’t sure how he would be able to ensure Eadlin’s safety if she were to agree to his hair-brained plan, but after watching the dragon transferring most of his furniture up to the upstairs room, he felt a little more comfortable with the idea.
He’d wanted to peek in on Freya and Daisy to see how they were doing with their new comforts, but it sounded like everything was fine and there was no point in taking a chance of being seen. He’d been surprised and pleased when the dragon sat on the stairs to listen to the goings on behind the locked door.
As they returned to room below, Walter had been struck by just how selfless the dragon had been. All that was left in the room was the chair by the fire, a desk and the shelves of books. There was no bedding and the fellow was still naked. He didn’t appear to have any clothing, either.
That would have to change. It wouldn’t do for the man to be naked the first time Eadlin met him. She was worldly for a virgin, but Walter didn’t think she was up for an eyeful of cock.
He gauged the man’s size and raced off. He found what he was looking for in fairly short order and he’d been careful to only pilfer from the wealthier homes. Even then, he’d looked for items that were rather generic and unlikely to be missed.
He laid the clothing outside the dragon’s door and waited, hoping the whole thing didn’t end in disaster.
The dragon was restless and it wasn’t long before he opened his door. The sight of the clothing stopped him short and he was clearly confused.
Walter decided to take a chance. He materialised in front of the dragon and pointed to the clothing on the floor. “I thought you might be a bit cold, so I brought you something to wear.”
The dragon stared for a moment, then asked, “Who are you?”
“I’ll tell you everything once you take the clothes and put them on. I think we’ll both be more comfortable once you’re covered up, don’t you?”
The dragon reached through the doorway and he partially transformed as he picked up the pile of clothing and returned to his full human state when he brought them into the room.
Walter floated over to the fireplace and hovered across from the chair while the creature dressed himself.
So far, so good.
The dragon sat on the chair and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. “I think it’s time you explained yourself.”
“My name is Walter Hampton. I was an armourer at Iron Hill until I died. Now I’m just a restless spirit wandering the world trying to do some good.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“Ah, yes. That. Well, I suppose I could start at the beginning, but it might be more expedient to start at the end. Which would you prefer?”
“Expedient sounds about right.”
The end it would be, then. “I’ve found you a flame-haired virgin who might be willing to assist you with your little problem provided you can make some assurances.”
The dragon sputtered and choked, then roared. “You what?”
Walter stood his ground and repeated himself.
“The flame-haired virgin who was supposed to assist me with my problem stopped being a virgin before she could do her job. I don’t know what you’re thinking by coming into my home and trying to fool me into believi
ng otherwise.”
“Bloody hell. I am so tired of being accused of trickery. Listen to me carefully because my patience in this matter is wearing very thin. As I understand it, the prophecy says you need to draw the virgin’s blood of a flame-haired woman. Not a specific flame-haired woman. I believe I have the key to your happiness, but she needs some assurances. Actually, she might also like to know your name.”
“What kind of assurances?”
This was promising. He hadn’t been told Walter to go to hell.
“Just two. You won’t keep her prisoner and if she’s not the right flame-haired virgin, you won’t take your anger out on her.”
“Where did she get the idea she’d need those assurances?”
“Look, you do have a bit of a temper, and the woman and child upstairs are testament to that. I was not going to ask Eadlin to consider involving herself without giving her an honest view of the situation.”
The dragon let out a long sigh. “What if I can’t give these assurances?”
“Then I will have to find another way to gain Freya and Daisy’s freedom.”
Taite Pendragon took a few moments to consider what the meddlesome spirit had told him. He walked over to the bookshelf and retrieved the parchment with the prophecy. The little bastard did have a point. It didn’t actually specify any particular flame-haired virgin.
Guilt overwhelmed him as he realised how badly he’d messed up so many lives.
“Oh stop with the self-pity. It’s tiresome and entirely not helpful. I’m still waiting for your name. Even if Eadlin doesn’t feel the need for it, I’m tired of mentally referring to you as the dragon, or the creature, or whatever else pops into my head.”
“Taite Pendragon.”
Walter chuckled. “Well, that’s appropriate, I suppose. I know Eadlin will find it amusing.”
This Eadlin was sounding more and more interesting all the time. “Tell me about her.”
“She’s not a woman you can push around. She’s older than your average virgin. By more years that she’ll want to admit.”
“If she’s getting long in the tooth, how can you be so sure she’s a virgin.”
“I will admit to delving rather deeply into the backgrounds of a number of virgins over the past few weeks as I searched for a suitable mate for an acquaintance.”
“I’m going to assume that acquaintance is Lord Greymoor?”
“You can assume as you like, but the identity of my acquaintance is irrelevant to the matter at hand.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, and let you pretend you’ve maintained a confidence. I will also accept your assurances that Eadlin is a virgin. However, if she proves not to be the innocent you both claim her to be, I will keep her here as my prisoner until you bring me another red-haired virgin to take her place. Regardless of the state of her maidenhead, I promise I will never raise my hand or my voice to her in anger. That is the best I can do with assurances.”
“And if Eadlin agrees, you will release Freya and Daisy?”
“Yes, they will both be free to return to Greymoor. I’m ashamed to say I hurt Freya quite badly in the beginning, but I’ve never forced myself upon her. She is Greymoor’s and his alone.”
“I’m sure he will be thankful for small mercies. If there is nothing else, I will go to Eadlin and present her with your conditions and assurances.”
“If she is agreeable, then I would like you to bring her with you. Too much time has been wasted already.”
“In that case, it will be a number of days before my return. I bid you farewell.”
***
Eadlin hadn’t expected Walter to return so soon and she couldn’t contain her excitement. “So?”
“There is one small wrinkle. If you prove not to be a virgin, then he insists upon holding you prisoner until I bring him a replacement for you.”
“Well, if there is one thing we can be sure of, there is no wrinkle as far as my virginity is concerned. What about his temper?”
“He’s promised never to raise his hand or his voice to you in anger.”
“That’s all I asked.”
“And his name is Taite Pendragon.”
Eadlin laughed long and hard before she could manage to speak. “Tell me you didn’t make that up.”
“No, I did not make that up. Damn it, how many times do I have to repeat myself to people. I am not one for jokes, jests, or trickery.”
“My goodness, I had no idea ghosts could be so sensitive.”
“Never mind that. I just wanted to give you his answer now so you could have the extra night to consider your decision.”
“I’ve already made up my mind. Truth is, it was made up before you’d even left this morning provided you returned with a favourable response from him.”
“There’s no need to be hasty, Eadlin. You should take some time to really think about what you’re getting involved with.”
“I’m a rapidly aging virgin and this is the best offer I’ve had since before my father died. I will ask that you check on me occasionally, just to ensure all is well.”
“That goes without saying. I don’t want your official answer now. I think you should at least sleep on it and if you still feel the same way tomorrow, then we can make travel arrangements.”
“That sounds good to me. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
As soon as Walter disappeared into the night, Eadlin pulled a book from the shelf on the wall and extracted a well-worn piece of parchment with a torn edge and held it to her breast. Finally.
***
Walter passed by the castle and resisted the urge to pop in on Lord Greymoor to tell him the good news. After the last visit, it would be much better to hold off and present the Marquess with his woman and their child.
Oh, what happiness that would bring. Walter did have concerns about how things would work out for Eadlin. Pendragon was still very much an unknown and while he appeared to be remorseful over his treatment of Freya and Daisy, Walter wasn’t willing to completely trust him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
In the meantime, he also had concerns about Eadlin. She’d been awfully quick to agree to give her virginity to Pendragon. If things went badly, it would be entirely Walter’s fault.
Maybe he should have stopped matchmaking once Thora and Martyn married.
***
When the ghost didn’t return with an answer by the next evening, Taite had taken to the skies many times each day to watch for his return, positive Eadlin’s answer must have been yes.
Early on the seventh day, he caught sight of a pony pulling a small cart. Walter was driving and there was a woman next to him. Her head was covered, but tendrils of flame-red hair had escaped and danced in the wind.
She was beautiful. He felt drawn to her with an intensity he never felt with Freya. His cock stirred. That was new.
He’d thought his lack of interest had been due to Freya no longer being a virgin. Now he wasn’t so sure. He forced himself to turn back home. He needed to prepare for Eadlin’s arrival.
She was still almost half a day away, but he wanted everything to be perfect. He didn’t want her to see him in his dragon form at all, which meant he’d have to remain in his room.
He probably should have told Freya what was happening, but he never saw her in his human form and it was best for the dragon to interact with her as little as possible. It was all Taite could do to keep him under control and he didn’t want to take any risk of something going wrong. Truth be told, he didn’t like being responsible for Freya and the child and lately he’d thought more and more about how he could free them with no consequence to himself.
The ghost appeared to be the answer to all his problems. He’d let Walter handle Freya.
***
After so many days of kindness from the beast, Freya no longer retreated to the corner with Daisy when the door opened. She only continued to watch him when he entered because she was curious to see what he brought. She’d failed miserably at not getti
ng used to his change in behaviour.
She’d been braiding Daisy’s hair and was just tying it off when the door opened.
She’d not quite finished when Daisy whispered, “The man is back.”
She looked up sharply and pulled her daughter with her as she scrambled away into the corner.
“Freya, please don’t be afraid. My name is Walter Hampton, and I’m here to take you back to Graeme.”
“What trickery is this?”
“Good grief. Not you as well. This is no trickery, I promise. We have a long way to travel and the sooner we get going, the sooner you will be with Graeme.”
Freya wanted to believe this Walter character with all he heart. After all, she’d been dreaming of this moment for years. “How can I be certain you speak the truth?”
“He has a small painting of you and a lock of your hair.”
She’d almost forgotten the painting he’d had commissioned. And she’d given him the lock of her hair the day he’d asked her to marry him. He’d given her a beautiful ring and when she’d expressed dismay over having nothing to give him in return, he’d asked for one of her curls.
While this was unlikely common knowledge, she wasn’t quite ready to trust this man with the safety of her baby. “How did you find me?”
“I had a conversation with a certain sellsword who’d had an unfortunate encounter with a dragon a number of years ago. Once I have you and the wee one safely in the care of Lord Greymoor, I’m sure he will want a chat of his own with the miserable whoreson.”
Freya eyed the open door weighing her chances of success if she just grabbed Daisy and ran.
The man held out a key and winked. “I think you’ll be needing this if you expect run with any speed.” He bent down and slid it across the floor towards her. “I’ll leave you to do the honours.”
Her fingers shook as she picked up the small piece of iron. She lost count of how many times it took before she was able to hold her hand steady enough to fit the key into the lock. Finally, the lock sprang open and the first shackle fell free. She looked at her ankle. It was all calloused from years of metal rubbing at it. More scars.