“–of the Angels and Lady of the Tower!” Percival finished.
The little page looked around, flushed from the effort, and then dashed off. The newcomer watched him leave. A smirk coiled up from the edge of the man’s lips before his voice boomed off the rafters.
“By my dragon’s scaly rear, are you letting striplings fresh off their mothers’ teats speak at court now?” he said, in a voice layered with grit and age. Then he half-turned and spotted me. He took a limping step in my direction.
“And which whore’s daughter is this?” he asked, with a jab of his thumb. The laughter which bubbled up at my expense got cut short as he added, “I knew the knights and lords of this court only grew the smallest of potatoes, but it seems their entire crop has withered if a lass such as this gets her own herald!”
That got a scowl out of me. The Regent leaned to one side and gestured between me and the newcomer as he spoke.
“This would be Dame Chrissie. Dame Chrissie, this charming fellow is Captain Vandegrift. He was appointed as a commander of the Royal Air Cavalry by the former King Benedict. The Captain’s been on a diplomatic mission for the past few years. As you can guess, he’s surprised at the changes to the kingdom since his return.”
“Surprised? May you melt off the earth like snow off a ditch, centaur!” Vandegrift cursed. “What vile path did you take to scheme your way into power here? And which part of the horse do you represent, anyway? The front or the rear half?”
Something about the man’s sheer cheek set my anger ablaze inside.
“That’s enough, Captain!” I snapped. “The Regent’s got enough on his plate without tending to a man who’s a few bricks short of a wall, and as thick as one! And as for how he came to power, that would be my doing.”
The Captain looked thunderstruck for a moment.
“Your doing? If you’re a noblewoman, then I’m a donkey’s son! I’ve known all the noble families, and I don’t see a whit of them in you.”
“I’m not of noble birth, no,” I acknowledged. “I was knighted by King Fitzwilliam this past year.”
“Fitzwilliam knighted you? If I see a girl, she ought to be proud of her breasts, not her breastplate! Besides, aren’t you a little short in the leg for a Dame?”
Snickers ran through the room. I stood my ground, crossed my arms, and put in a shot of my own.
“I don’t know,” I said, and I glanced down towards his groin. “Aren’t you a little short somewhere else for a Dragon Knight?”
That got a round of laughter from the assembled Andeluvians. Vandegrift glanced around, surprised. And then his one eye widened as the door burst open, admitting my friends. The centaur and griffin flanked me, while Liam stood out in front. They each wore a grim expression, as if ready to eviscerate the Captain at a moment’s notice.
“Oh, don’t mind them,” I said. “They’re with me.”
It was all the man could do to stare in silence for a moment. Then a bray of laughter erupted from his mouth.
“Hah! I like you, woman. You’ve got stones that the so-called men here would feel blessed to drag around. So, where have you stuffed King Fitzwilliam, then? I hear you’ve tossed him into a prison somewhere in this ‘Land of the Angels’.”
“He’s not in a prison,” I corrected him. “And before you insult the Regent again, know that I’m returning the rightful King to his throne tomorrow morning.”
A round of gasps and hopeful whispers came from around the room. Vandegrift’s jaw moved side-to-side as if the Captain were thinking and re-evaluating things.
“Maybe I spoke too quickly,” he acknowledged. “It’s curious to see a woman wield such power. Rather like seeing a dog walk on two legs. It’s not unwelcome. Just odd.”
I gave him a challenging look. “No odder than seeing a donkey’s son show up at court on the back of a dragon.”
A smile creased the man’s face. The effect was hideous, but the grin was genuine.
“Oh, yes, I like you.” He jabbed a finger at me. “You intrigue me, wench. Meet me inside the South Keep within the hour. My mount Silverbane and I are staying there. Come alone.”
A couple ribald snickers came from the assembled court.
I hesitated. Fitzwilliam’s two dragon keeps had been mothballed. The North Keep was only used for ceremonial purposes. And I’d been to the South Keep during an earlier investigation, but that had been a full year ago. Either place was a good long walk in either direction from the main palace.
“If you need to discuss something with me,” I pointed out, “it can be done here.”
The Dragon Knight shook his head.
“No. I need to speak with you about marriage.”
The snickering from around the room stopped dead. Now it was my turn to stare, thunderstruck.
Vandegrift turned on his heel and limped past us without a second glance. The doors rattled shut as he exited the Great Hall.
Well, this was going to be interesting.
It looked like I had a date lined up.
Chapter Twelve
The Royal Court broke up with the usual terse grumbles and mutters, directed either at the Regent or between each other. But in time, even the most stubborn or grumpy lords and their retinues retired for the day. Eventually, only the Regent, his bodyguards, my knights, and my friends remained in the Great Hall.
Magnus’ rich voice filled the room’s sudden silence.
“Now that the latest disaster has been averted, I would prefer to speak to you, Dame Chrissie.”
Oh, great, I thought. I’m about to get my butt chewed yet again.
“Guys,” I said, looking to Liam, Galen, and Shaw in turn, “let me handle this. I’ll meet you back at the Tower Room when I’m done talking with the Regent. And Vandegrift.”
“You do seem to be in demand today,” Galen observed. “We shall be there.”
With that, my friends exited and I moved around the side of the table, past where my knights sat or stood, and came to wait before the Regent. Magnus’ expression was a strange combination of annoyance and relief. He ran his fingers through his short-but-growing crop of hair.
“That was a close-run thing. This new ‘Captain’ had a third of the table set to take up arms. Had you not arrived, this hall would have run red with blood.”
“Then I’m doubly glad that I showed up when I did,” I said. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to defuse things when I talk with–”
The Regent made a dismissive motion. “I wish you the best of luck, but that doesn’t concern me anymore. Which is a relief.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since King Fitzwilliam shall be returning tomorrow morning, I am stepping down from the Regent-hood that you have foisted upon me and returning to the Centaur Realm.”
My knights immediately began up murmur amongst themselves. It sounded like a pleased murmur overall. Myself, I wasn’t so sure that I was happy about it.
“Before you do so,” Lord Ghaznavi said quickly, “might you write up a proclamation for King Fitzwilliam to honor the Order of the Ermine? For slaying the creatures that posed the threat to our two kingdoms?”
To emphasize the point, Sir Exton hefted the trophy plaque with the mounted wyvern head a little higher.
“I doubt that the threat posed was quite as big as the one your Order faces,” Magnus observed. “But your service was brave, and the tale you told was a bold one. Follow me, I shall draft up a document before I take my leave.”
I cleared my throat before Magnus could turn away.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you, ah, remained here to hand over power?” I asked. “I don’t know what the protocol is for such things, but surely there has to be something.”
Magnus gave a rueful smile as he came over to stand before me. Even in human form, he cut an imposing figure.
“Dame Chrissie, there are times you are wiser than a centaur elder. And others where your innocence shines through. There are no ‘protocols’ when it comes to these th
ings because they usually don’t happen. The Albess is right that you are one of those rare people who break things and shake them up.
“There is an old saying in the Centaur Realm: Two crowns cannot reside upon one throne. Fitzwilliam was not here to see me take up his standard. Neither shall he be here to see me return it. Rather, I shall leave him a letter explaining all of the decisions made here at court. I’m sure that he’ll be able to pick up the reins without too much trouble.”
I was tempted to argue, but Magnus’ tone held a note of finality. He’d already made up his mind. I nodded wearily.
“I understand. It’s just that…well, you see how things are here. I don’t like the idea of the throne being vacant.”
“This land is as brittle as they come,” he agreed. “But surely, if it held together for three days before my arrival, it can survive overnight without coming apart.”
To my surprise, the Centaur King bowed to me. The gesture raised eyebrows from the centaurs and knights that remained around us. I returned the bow with a now well-practiced one of my own.
“Fare thee well, Dame Chrissie,” Magnus said quietly. “I sense the final storm coming. Should we survive, I will see to it that you can visit my Realm again as an honored guest.”
I tried to reply, but my throat felt choked up. I didn’t trust my voice, so I nodded as best I could. Magnus gestured to his bodyguards and they fell in behind him, followed by Sir Exton and Lord Ghaznavi.
I looked over to the last knight who’d remained with me in the Great Hall. Sir Quinton remained standing by my assigned spot at the table.
“What an amazing fellow,” he mused. “The centaurs are lucky to have him. Had the lords here given him half a chance, he might have accomplished more. As it was, he had little choice but to appease their demands for more knights and cavalry units. There was no other way to keep their support and loyalty until King Fitzwilliam returned. It has left us criminally undermanned at the palace.”
“I doubt they’d give anyone much of a chance,” I said, before noticing his melancholy look. “Sir Quinton, I do appreciate the job you’ve done here as well. Your being here has done as much good for the Order of the Ermine as your companions.”
“I hope so. Exton and Ghaznavi have slain wyverns for you, while all I’ve done is warm a chair.”
“Sir Quinton, you also helped me apprehend an incredibly dangerous wizard,” I reminded him. “But if it bothers you, then just be patient and let your leg finish healing. I promise, there’ll be plenty of monsters left in this world for you to slay gallantly.”
He thought that over, and then grinned. “You do know how to brighten a warrior’s day, Dame Chrissie!”
“It comes naturally. I’ve had a lot of experience dealing with Shaw.”
I got a laugh at that. “That you do, Dame Chrissie. Very well, I shall join my fellow knights and find out what becomes of our Order’s trophy. I shall be interested to hear what, ah, marriage plans Captain Vandegrift has in mind.”
“You and me both,” I sighed, as Quinton left the hall.
I gathered up the folds of my cloak and headed up to the palace battlements. The South Keep was a long, long walk along the pathway leading from the palace. The view from so high up was a dazzling mix of shingled roofs clustered outside the palace to emerald stretches of verdant cropland and nattily kept orchards.
The closer I got to the Keep, the more it looked like an airplane hangar, at least if it had been designed by an egomaniac stonemason. Sinuous dragon shapes held pride of place over the entryway. A long time ago, I’d thought that they’d been put there to emphasize the stables’ purpose. Now that I’d found out about the wyverns’ civilization, I wondered what the building had originally been designed for. Perhaps Nagura would know.
Inside, the building had the look of sun-scorched brick. I walked through emptied rooms and hallways. The air smelt of dust and dampness, of weathered neglect. Finally, I made my way down a stone stairway and out into the long, cavernous room that served as the Keep’s Main Flight Hall.
Each step I took echoed off a ceiling that crawled with images of scaly beasts spreading their wings. An arched window let light in, framing detailed panels of stained glass. One showed a tree trunk spiraling upwards into a dragon, silhouetted by a starburst of yellow. The air held an acrid hint of sulfur. Stall doors labeled with past dragons’ names stretched down the length of the massive room.
But it was the new items under the window that really got my attention. A second suit of black leather armor had been draped over a dusty wooden mannikin. Next to the wall was a neatly rolled-out sheet draped over a cushion stuffed with fresh hay. And sitting next to the makeshift bed were two hardcover books. One bore the title Aerial Combat Against the Weather Gauge. The other, to my amazement, was Andeluvian Verse and Poetry, Volume VI.
A clack, followed by the tic-tac of claws upon stone echoed from down the hall. Captain Vandegrift emerged from one of the open stall doors. His reddish hair and black armor provided a startling contrast to the bright-sheened beast that followed behind him.
The dragon was the breathtaking color of newly minted silver coins. The creature was almost Nagura’s size, though with a heavier build and with at most half the spikes that jutted from the ancient wyvern queen’s head. Midnight black claws clacked upon the floor, and intelligent eyes blazed with a high-wattage shade of purple.
More to the point, it had no leash. No chains. And no restraints at all on those pistoning claws and razor-sharp teeth.
My insides turned to ice as the two turned and headed in my direction.
Chapter Thirteen
The dragon knight led the creature down the hall towards me. My pulse jumped to double-time as he did so. This was someone’s trained mount, I knew that much. But I’d had more than a few bad experiences around so-called ‘trained’ dragons.
The Captain made a click with his tongue. On cue, the dragon stuck its neck out. A forked tongue flicked the air about me, leaving a whiff of sulfur and carrion in its wake. After a moment to process whatever information its draconic brain needed, the creature did what I least expected.
It lowered its head down below my arm. My skin prickled as it did so, as that head had a snout like a giant alligator’s. Then the dragon gave me a gentle nudge, as if it were a needy puppy or kitten. Out of reflex, I reached out and stroked the top of its head, the same way I did for Shaw. I got a purr that sounded like an idling diesel truck in exchange.
Another hideous grin spread across Vandegrift’s face.
“Well, Silverbane’s reaction towards you seals it,” he said, in his gravelly voice. “I’d thought that Fitzwilliam raised you to Dame-hood because you’re easier on the eyes than anything this side of a well-worn dragon saddle. But there’s more to you than that.”
“Some would say a lot more,” I agreed, as Silverbane withdrew.
The dragon stepped back and stretched out across the floor like a sleepy cat. Vandegrift watched his charge with barely-concealed affection. Then, just like his dragon, he did what I least expected.
The Captain made a deep bow, much like the one that Regent Magnus had given me. His movements were polished, with a hint of theatrical flourish. His words stunned me even more.
“I hope you’ll forgive an old war-horse for his crass ways,” he said humbly. “When you’ve been blessed with a face like mine, no one expects social grace. Or wishes to try teaching a cussed son-of-a-donkey like me.”
That in turn got a grudging smile from me. “If that’s what they expect, then they’re fools. I seriously doubt that a simple, crass knight would be reading Andeluvian poetry.”
He coughed into his hand as he cast a glance towards the books. “Reading is a hobby of mine. The other is sifting information from the lips of drunkards, blowhards, and idiots. In other words, listening to the worthless spawn of nobles sent as hostages to the court of Saratha.”
That name rang a bell. Back when Fitzwilliam and Alanzo had been trading
stories about their scars, the king had mentioned that name. He’d been stabbed by someone in Saratha’s Fountain Court.
And Vandegrift had just mentioned hostages as being noblemen’s children. I’d bet good money that Saratha was the same country that Fitzwilliam had been sent to by his father, the Good King Benedict, in order to seal a treaty of some kind. As interesting as that line of questioning might be, I set it aside for a moment.
“So, what did these, ah, ‘drunkards, blowhards, and idiots’ say?”
“They said a witch-woman from a place called the ‘Land of Angels’ had singlehandedly put Fitzwilliam onto the throne, beguiled him to raise her to knight-status, and then proceeded to ensorcel the Royal Court into acting like a pack of rabid ferrets.”
“Yeah…that’s kind of a stretch,” I said wryly. “Except for that last part. Maybe. You didn’t see them before Fitzwilliam gave me the status of Dame.”
Vandegrift made a dismissive gesture. “Even a simple-minded spear-chucker like me knows the truth when he stumbles over it on the way to the privy! But before I could separate truth from lie, I had to return. For I’ve had marriage on my list of things to do for some time, and this concerns you.”
“Yeah,” I said, with a hard swallow. “About that. I’m not really looking for anything like that right now. So if you’re proposing marriage, I hope you can take ‘no’ for an answer without dueling anyone to the death.”
Vandegrift stared at me uncomprehendingly for a moment. Then he threw his head back in a loud guffaw. Silverbane opened one violet eye and let out a dismissive snort as if to say: What’s the matter with you, boss? Humans are just too weird.
“Marry you? A leather-faced scabber like me knows better! No, I flew like a demon against the wind because I thought that Fitzwilliam had his eyes set on your plush little…” His voice trailed off as he caught my dagger-like gaze. “That is, your womanly virtues. And, ah, other things. Things near to you and dear to men who like giving wenches a good hard ride on their–”
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