The Dragon’s Treasure

by Caitlin Ricci

  “I understand, I was having one with my mother, too, when he came to find me. Come, let’s go back before it gets to be much later,” he said as he gently began to lead her away from her mother’s grave.

  “One more moment please,” she quickly replied as she pulled herself away from him. He nodded and she sank to her knees in the soft ground.

  “I miss you very much, Mother. I promise, as always, to look after Caden and to take care of him as I have since his birth. When he is better I will tell him of you and make sure that he knows what a wonderful woman you were. Rest peacefully, Mother, and thank you for watching out for all of us,” Isabelle said gently. She wiped a few tears from her cheeks and kissed the cold stone of her mother’s name. She brushed her fingers over a few of the pale yellow roses before picking a small one. The stem broke off easily in her fingers. She met Andrew’s gaze and he helped her up with an outstretched hand.

  “Will your mother mind that you picked one of her roses? I’ve never seen you do that before,” he asked as they began walking back toward the palace.

  “You usually aren’t out here when I am,” she replied. “The rose is for Caden. I think she’d like for him to see her flowers, too. I bring him one every year.”

  “I believe you’re right. Your mother would want him to have one. She did love her flowers. And she loved you very much, Bella.”

  Isabelle smiled and nodded as more tears spilled over her cheeks. “She loved you, too, Andrew. You were not her son by birth, but she did not love you any less because of it.”

  “Thank you, for saying that. My mother, well, I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about her and…” his voice trailed off as he faced the familiar struggle of how to speak of the woman he was supposed to love, but couldn’t bring himself to.

  Isabelle put a hand gently on his arm. “I understand, Andrew. You don’t have to say anything about it to me.”

  “Thank you, Bella,” he said as he patted her hand.

  Chapter Two

  Isabelle awoke slowly and, with a slight groan, disentangled herself from the sheets that had tried to strangle her in the night. For a moment she was disoriented in the plain room, so unlike her lavish bedroom a few doors down the hall. But the sight of the warm body beside her quickly brought her back to the present and reminded her of just why it was that she had spent the night wrapped around him. She again took up the same position she had adopted throughout the night and for many nights previous, pressing her body against her brother’s small back, molding herself into place behind his small frame.

  Isabelle took this chance, one of the rare opportunities she was allowed, to see him in such a natural, vulnerable state. Her younger brother, the child she had raised since birth, with his large emerald eyes and mess of brown hair, was the perfect copy of their father’s good looks. Certainly their mother helped to smooth out the harsh lines of their father’s features, adding her own sort of roundness that was just shy of chubbiness on him, but there was no mistaking the boy’s parentage. Instead of admiring his looks and thinking of the handsome man her brother would one day become, Isabelle looked intently at his pale skin, noticing the subtle changes that had appeared overnight.

  To say that her brother was not well would have been a gross understatement to be rewarded with nothing but contempt and loathing. Ill since birth, the sickness that had started off as nothing but a cough and a bit of a fever had ravaged the boy’s body, leaving a frail five year old in its wake. How something had ravaged his young body so quickly was too much to contemplate. Too weak to move or stand without assistance, Caden now relied on his sister for even the smallest of tasks.

  Soon though, she would come of age and no longer be able to care for him as she had been. She wondered if there was a husband somewhere, a lord perhaps, that would allow her to bring her brother with her to his home. She sighed miserably into the boy’s protruding shoulder blades. Probably not.

  It was at this moment when her contemplations couldn’t seem to possibly get any worse when her older brother Andrew decided to make his appearance. Without bothering to knock, he swept into the room. “The boy is old enough to sleep by himself, Bella. You should not be here,” he scolded.

  She pressed herself tighter against the boy’s small frame and glared angrily up at him at him.

  “Don’t give me that look, girl. You are not the spoiled child any longer and so will not be endured as one.”

  Sitting up swiftly, her eyes narrowed on her brother. “If I am no longer a child, Andrew, do not call me girl. And my name has never, and will never be Bella,” she challenged back.

  He merely rolled his eyes at her and cast another scornful look at their brother. Or rather, his half-brother since he and they had different mothers. It was something he never let her forget. “How is he today?” His voice softened slightly, but it was still not enough to shift her attention from the glare she had fixed him with.

  “No better, no worse,” she answered quickly.

  “I don’t like this, Bella. You should not be so attached to him. No good will come of this,” he said gently but in a voice that allowed no argument.

  “And what would you have me do, oh brother dearest? What in your twenty-four years of infinite wisdom would you ask of me? Do you wish me to move on? Forget him? Let him die and hope that he finds peace in that?”

  Isabelle bit back the tears, forcefully shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts. She would not think on this today or any other day. Her brother would get better.

  “Yes,” Andrew admitted quietly. He pressed on, despite the building anger and resentment in her eyes. “He is beyond hope, Isabelle. The last healer, the one that has been with our family for countless numbers of years, finally left today out of sadness and frustration. Surely with all of the healers that have seen him, all the sorceresses that have spoken over him, all of the wizards that I paid sufficient sums of money to, you can see that by now? Every one of them, every last one, has come up with the same conclusion. Whatever this illness is that Caden has, we have learned very few things since discovering that he was sick shortly after birth. It has been years since he was born and we are no closer to finding out what this illness is, much less a way to cure it. I think it is safe to say that there is nothing we can do for him anymore. I am sorry,” he finished softly.

  She continued to glare at him, though her eyes were growing wetter by the moment. “We can get more people to see him, I’m sure more will come. There is always hope,” she said quietly.

  He sighed and shook his head, gently trying to convince her of a fact he was so sure of. “There is no one else to ask, Isabelle. Please learn to accept this. Don’t make this harder on yourself than necessary.”

  “I’m sure there are other people to ask! You haven’t asked everyone yet have you?” she shot back at him. She spared a glance for the silent body under her trembling palm. Caden became more comfortable in the bed, but had not yet woken. It was a miracle really, considering how loud they were being.

  “There is no one left to ask. The faster you accept this the happier you’ll be.”

  Isabelle searched her mind frantically for an answer, something, anything that would give her hope and make her brother see the truth of Caden’s condition. “What about the mountain people? You know that they are powerful, Andrew! They could help us! I’m sure they could! The healer said that they have cures for almost everything. I know that they could help him! All we’d have to do is ask. Please let me ask them, Andrew. Please?” was her impassioned plea.

  His eyes grew wide at this and his thin lips turned into an uncharacteristic sneer. “Murderers and rapists, the whole lot of them. You would trust him to those types? Do you care so little for him that you cannot let him die in peace with what little dignity he has left?”

  Isabelle chose her words carefully, biting them out between labored breaths. “If there was a chance…If they could fix him…”

  “There is no c
hance, Isabelle! No one can fix him! The boy’s already half dead as it is! Let him finish it!” Andrew yelled as he gripped her arms and shook her.

  “Get. Out.”

  He blinked quickly, his arms falling limply to his sides.

  “What?”

  Her eyes remained intent on him, rage boiling just below the surface. “Get. Out. Now. I don’t want to see you again.”

  “But…”

  “I said get out.”

  Her brother wisely shut his mouth and quickly left the room. Only once the door was closed did she let out her inhaled breath.

  Isabelle curled up against her brother, holding him tightly to her as she wrapped her arms around him. Warm tears began to flow down her cheeks in silent rivers to slide over the boy’s pale forehead. Within moments though, her body had relaxed along with his, her tears ebbing to mere sniffles, as a restless sleep welcomed her into its grasp.

  It was a rash decision to leave, which Isabelle knew as she hurried through the palace. Her pace was brisk, but not fast enough to alarm the few guards that she passed. They would just assume she had gone out for a late night stroll. Only Andrew would question her at this hour and thankfully she had heard the sound of his loud snores as she passed by his bedroom on her way out of the palace.

  Isabelle stepped out into the night, the drizzling rain chilling her to the bone as she pulled her cloak tighter around her shivering body. She had changed her clothes, opting instead for a loose tunic over an old pair of Andrew’s pants. Her long brown hair was tied back and knotted low at the base of her neck. Her transformation into a young man for the night had been completed with the addition of her brother’s short sword, taken from his room earlier that evening. He hadn’t touched it since they were children so she doubted that he would miss it. Though she had some experience with it as well as other weapons she knew that if a fight tried to find her on this night the blade would be for little more than show. Her nerves were wound far too tightly from worry over her brother for the clear, calculated thinking that a duel would require. She would be dead before her body hit the rain soaked mud beneath her feet.

  With that thought, she began to hurry through the wide deserted streets of Nuer. She had been born in this small city and knew the twists and turns of these roads as easily as she knew the ones in the small palace she shared with her brothers and the man that currently sat on the throne in her father’s stead, her uncle, the brother of Andrew’s mother.

  Though Andrew’s uncle was neither royalty nor her blood relation, he still expected her to do some of what he asked of her. She barely suppressed an eye roll at this. Whenever the man tried to inflict his ideas on her, it took much of her willpower not to attack him openly. Even Andrew could barely stand the man, though he did hold him in higher esteem than she did.

  The city was quiet and seemingly deserted as she made her way further outside of the palace walls. She knew being out this late without the company of at least one guard was dangerous, especially as she left the small section of town that the noblemen lived in.

  She had visited the healer’s home once before when her mother had sent her and a few guards to fetch him for an ailing friend when she had been only a small child and although it had been many years since that day, Isabelle was sure that she would have no trouble finding the small wooden building once again.

  A narrow alleyway crowded with beggars, thieves and streetwalkers seemed a forbidding place, but she knew that his house lay just beyond. Back when her mother had been alive this alley was a row of quaint shops, but those merchants had left shortly after her father vanished and that man took over his throne. A lot had changed since then, none of it for the better as far as she was concerned. But dwelling in that dark past would do her no good now and she knew of only one route to get to the healer’s house and so she took a deep breath and walked on. The door, small and unassuming blended in neatly with the rest of the brown-colored house. Isabelle pulled her cloak tighter around her shivering frame as she rapped on the door. Minutes passed before it opened slightly. She could just barely make out the man still hovering in the shadows within.

  “Sir?” Isabelle asked cautiously.

  He leaned forward and his eyes, clouded with age, looked her over before deciding to open the door slightly. “Isabelle?”

  She gulped nervously as she felt the eyes of those in the alley on her back. “Salus, sir, may I come in?” Without another word he ushered her inside.

  Isabelle hardly waited for the heavy wood door to close before she turned on him, her eyes blazing with unanswered questions and barely restrained accusations. “Why did you leave us? Couldn’t you see that Caden still needs you?”

  “Leave? Dear child, I did not leave. Your brother kicked me out!” he returned with just as much anger as she had thrown at him.

  She was instantly quieted as she considered his words. “Andrew? Why would he do such a thing?”

  Salus crossed his arms over his chest and leveled his gaze at her. “Can you think of no reason?”

  Isabelle looked away, realization burning through her. She would deal with Andrew later though, Caden was who mattered now. “Isn’t there some way to help him?”

  “Not in this city, not with your brother so quick to see him buried,” Salus shook his head sadly.

  Isabelle would not be discouraged so quickly. “What about outside of the city then? The mountain people?” she asked as she took a step toward him and placed a pleading hand on his forearm.

  He shook her hand off angrily and took a step away from her. “The mountain people? Have you any idea of what you are saying you stupid, stupid child?”

  “Could they help him? If there is a chance that they could help him…” She was begging him, pleading for him to give her some small snippet of hope. Perhaps this sight of her, so beautiful and young like her mother was at her age, was what made him decide to help her.

  “They could, I believe. But realize this, those people do not grant favors lightly. The price they would ask for in return for saving your brother may well be too great for you to bear.” He sounded as if he was cautioning her and while Isabelle appreciated his concern, she could not let that stop her.

  “No price is too great in exchange for Caden’s life.” Isabelle was determined. She had hope now, however small. Caden had to get better. If it took everything she had, she would see him well again. If only for a day.

  “I hope you don’t live to regret those words. Now, come closer, I will tell you how to get to the mountains. And you had better pay attention and not make this old man repeat himself all night.”

  Isabelle nodded quickly and leaned forward, her pale lips forming a thin line as she stared eagerly at the man. He looked her over, satisfied that he had her rapt attention and then began to speak.

  “To get to the mountains you must journey for quite a few days toward those distant peaks. The rivers will begin to dry up and the grass with turn brown and give way to the barren wasteland as you near the base of the mountains. The air will become hot and dry and it will become hard for you to breathe. Make sure you take enough food and water for you both. You’ll need it,” he said solemnly.

  * * * *

  Her eyes were wide as she listened to him, faithfully absorbing every word that fell from his lips. “Once I’m there what should I do?”

  “Wait at the base of the mountains for them. Someone will come to escort you inside. No one is able to get into the mountain unless they belong there.”

  “Have you ever been inside though, Salus?”

  He nodded quickly. “Yes.”

  “So why can’t you take us then?” she asked, her expression worried.

  He leaned back, studying her, wondering if she could really do this or if he would end up being responsible for the deaths of these two young children in the end. “I do not belong there,” he told her slowly. “I am not one of them. I am a welcomed guest at the best of times, but I do not have the
ability to bring in outsiders.”

  “I’m a princess, not an outsider,” she scoffed.

  Salus had to smile at her arrogance. “I highly doubt your position in society will matter. Neither will your gold or power. They do not value those trivialities.”

  “What kind of people are they then if they can’t appreciate wealth?”

  He chuckled dryly at her, causing her frown to deepen even further. “You will have to wait and see for yourself. Now, I think you’ve been out late enough for one night. Go back, get some rest, and head out tomorrow.”

  “Very well. Goodnight, healer.”

  “My dear, please call me, Salus.”

  * * * *

  She sucked on her lower lip, considering the informality of it all and finally nodded. “Thank you for your help. Goodbye.”

  “Good luck to you, my dear. Goodnight,” he told her as he rose from the chair.

  Isabelle closed the door to the healer’s home and heard a sharp click as the lock was pushed firmly back in place. She couldn’t blame himfor being cautious in times like these.

  When she and Andrew had been barely more than children she remembered sneaking out of the palace with him on quiet nights like this and walking around the streets of Nuer as if they had been regular citizens and not held captive by the statutes of their birth. She thanked those nights with him now as she made her way silently back to the familiar gates of the palace and to the small opening off to the side where the ancient stone wall had crumbled just enough to allow her through without tearing any of the ivy vines that kept the hole hidden from the guard’s searching eyes.

  Though the soft ground soiled her clothing and the ivy tore at her hair Isabelle much preferred it to the questions the guards would ask her at the gate before they would bring her to Andrew’s uncle to deal with. She was sure that the man wasn’t stupid enough not to realize that she got away with far more than her brother, but Andrew was always too dumb not to get caught when he dared to break the rules.