Deadly Intentions (Blood Feud - Volume 2) (6 page)

When they had returned to Delhi, Mina had
barricaded herself in her apartments and cried herself to sleep,
refusing to even allow her servants into the room. She didn’t
resurface until breakfast the next morning, her eyes still swollen
and red despite her best efforts. While she dug a piece of
grapefruit out with her spoon she sighed and asked solemnly; “Where
do you want him sent?”

It was clear to Tristan that it frightened
her to be parted from her son and despite his insistence that he
wouldn’t give her any more concessions, he simply said; “Mother and
Father want to retire soon. I think they would enjoy the quiet
leisure that is Guisian society in their golden years.” He
explained. “Father taught me, he can teach Jonathan too.”

The tears welled up in her eyes again and she
looked on the verge of complete collapse again. Before her emotions
could overwhelm her, she mouthed her thanks before she buried her
face in her napkin for a moment. Maggie’s hand found his and she
squeezed it briefly, communicating her approval.

After breakfast Tristan went back to their
apartment and tried to communicate with his mother. After a few
attempts he felt the reassuring presence of his mothers’
thoughts.

Yes Mykl?
She replied.

I need to ask a favor.
He sent.

Anything.
She answered back
instantly.

Once I regain control of Terum and Kevin
is free to assume the throne so you and father can retire.
He
began.
Would you both consent to live in Delhi for a few years
so that father can train my son as he taught us?
He blurted out
in a rush.

A long pause followed, causing Tristan to
feel guilty for encroaching on the quiet time in their lives, as
their approaching retirement should have been. Finally, his mother
answered back.

Your father says he would be honored.
She sent. Tristan could feel that her thoughts were heavy with
emotion and he tried to glean their source. She must have felt his
uncertainty, because she said;
your father would have found a
much less savory hobby anyway, Mykl.
She reassured him.

A few hours later, Tristan found his son and
Mina playing in their favorite courtyard with Euri, Lesa, Peria and
Maggie. He sat down opposite her on their large blanket and simply
said; “He’ll do it.”

Mina crawled towards him and kissed him
lightly on the cheek, thanking him. Peria immediately shouted for
the head servant. The Rajina ordered a large apartment be built on
the other side of their favorite courtyard for Tristan and Euri’s
parents to use. When Tristan reminded her that it would be a few
years before they could make their way here the old woman waved him
off, chastising him.

“Don’t ruin and old woman’s fun young man!”
Then she began to lay out plans and ideas for the master builder to
begin construction.

Tristan and Euri chuckled at her enthusiasm
as Maggie sat down and possessively wrapped her arm around
Tristan’s, casting a dark look at Mina that everyone but the young
mother failed to notice.

Days began to fade into weeks, and weeks into
months as their lives settled into a comfortable routine. Tristan
found that his son was limited in his mind-speech, and at times
forced images into the Princes mind to communicate properly. He
began to teach the lad how to communicate in more traditional ways
so that he wouldn’t frighten people by yelling into their minds
when he needed something.

At times a servant would drop a tray they
were carrying because he would shout for food or water as they
walked along the exposed hallways and came into his sight. Tristan
felt bad for the servants as it was, but to be yelled at in their
minds must have been terribly frightening, albeit in an amusing
way.

So language lessons had begun. He left most
of it to Mina and the Rajina, who would teach him the Guisian
language and history, as Guis tended to focus more on history than
any other country he knew of. Instead, he focused on associating
pictures his son shot into his mind, with the verbal words for them
in his own language, which was far more commonly used than Guisian.
The child made excellent progress, learning the Vallius language
easily. This morning he was trying to teach his son some dragon
lore, as Henjis taught it to him.

While the colors of the dragons came easily,
his son insisted that all dragons looked like his
great-grandmother; long serpent-like creatures with a long fin and
wings that spread along their entire body. After a few hours of no
progress, Tristan used his mind to call his grandfather, hoping
that at least seeing another dragon would help drive home the
lesson.

You called.
Draconis replied.

Would you like to meet your
great-grandson?
Tristan replied with humor.

Of course!
He answered eagerly to the
Princes amusement.
Mind if I bring a friend?
He asked
playfully.

No sooner had Tristan answered in the
affirmative when two obscenely large dragons landed in the same
courtyard, much to Jonathan’s amusement. The young Prince clapped
at their arrival as Tristan slowly got up, drinking in the sight
before him. The familiar silver dragon of his grandfather stood
there, staring down at them with a crooked smile.

Hello my sons.
He sent them both.

Tristan could feel Jonathans’ excitement in
his mind, so he reached down and lifted his son up. Holding him on
his hip, he looked back up at the second dragon. Its scales
practically glowed red in the sunlight with a faint orange sheen.
It was muscular, just as Draconis was, and although this dragon
must have been quite young, he sensed a great well of power inside
of it. Tristan also sensed the same youthful and mischievous
enthusiasm that his son possessed.

The Prince tentatively reached out with his
mind, trying to greet the large red dragon. Its enormous talons
flexed, pawing the ground slightly while looking deeply into
Tristan’s eyes. It snorted black smoke as it lowered its head to
get a closer look at the Prince and his young son. Tristan reached
out slowly and placed his hand along the outside of its snout. The
dragon was hot to the touch, not so much so that it burnt his hand,
but it was definitely the warmest dragon he’d even laid hands on.
Jonathan reached up and patted its nose, causing it to coo softly
in reply as Tristan chuckled.

He reached out with his mind, touching the
surface of the reds. Tristan didn’t know quite how, but he knew
this dragon, as though he’d seen her in a dream or something of the
kind. Then it came to him like a bolt of lightning;
Bethia?
He asked.

The red dragon snorted as she reared her head
and roared to Jonathan’s delight.

Lesariu was right.
Draconis observed.
You are getting good at this surprise thing.
He joked.

Tristan shielded his sons’ eyes as Draconis
disappeared in a flash of light. The Prince took his hand away as
Drake stepped forward in his customary silver robe. He held out his
arms as Tristan passed him his great-grandson. Tristan looked from
his grandfather and then towards the red dragon questioningly.

“She can’t assume human form yet.” Drake
explained.

“And she can’t communicate telepathically
with me?” Tristan asked.

“Not yet. I’m still teaching her.” He
explained, handing a toy carving of a large red dragon to
Jonathan.

“Where did you find her?” Tristan persisted,
while continuing to stroke her nose.

“There’s a small group of islands to the far
west. They’ll little more than magma made hard from under water
eruptions, but there’s enough build-up for her to have built
herself a cave to hide in.” Drake answered.

“You’re leaving something out.” Tristan
accused.

Drake looked up from Jonathan, casting his
grandson with a warning glare. “Not here. I’ll tell you everything
of course. But first I want to play with my great grandson.” He
added lightly.

Drake turned and looked at the red dragon as
Tristan attempted to eavesdrop on what he told her.
Ish veitil
basch.
Drake sent. The large red dragon leaped into the air and
with three powerful thrusts of her wings, she was gone. Drake
turned a looked hard at Tristan and sent him.
You’ll learn
draconic in time my boy.
He chuckled as he playfully tossed
Jonathan into the air, causing the boy to giggle.

The temperature during the day was beginning
to be noticeably warmer and Tristan was sure it was getting close
to time for he and his guests to leave. Sergeant Frose spent the
majority of his time with the Guisian soldiers, learning their ways
and heading into town with them to pursue women of a ‘questionable
moral quality’ as Euri often ranted, chastising him constantly.
Tristan and Maggie spent a great deal of time together and the
Prince was beginning to feel snared by her charms, although the
feeling was definitely not unwelcome.

He spent hours with his son every day, at
times accompanied by Maggie, Euri, Peria or Mina depending on where
they were going to explore today. The time he spent with Peria and
Mina helped to heal old wounds that he had long since neglected. It
had been almost ten weeks since his first arrival in Delhi and
everyone was deeply tanned and relaxed.

During the evening meal Tristan announced
that he had to return to his duties. The mood around the table
became guarded, as he knew it would. Peria took the news with her
usual enthusiasm, making him promise to visit again soon, instead
of waiting years. Mina looked down at her plate, stabbing a bit of
broccoli and popping it into her mouth. Tristan was almost
surprised to see tears gathering in her eyes despite her best
efforts to hide them. He wasn’t sure if they were happy, or sad,
but he was sure that their time together had both blessed and
scarred them both deeper than either of them were willing to admit.
His son got up and stumbled around the table towards him, throwing
himself into Tristan’s leg, as he held tight to him. Promises were
made, as were plans to leave after they broke fast the following
morning with Lesa.

Even with the growing tension of drama,
Tristan’s mind turned again to Bethia and his grandfather. Since
his first visit, Draconis was becoming increasingly difficult to
contact. Tristan was beginning to feel as though he was being left
out of whatever the old dragon was planning. It was irritating to
no end, and the Prince chaffed to be included in the plans of a
race he helped to save. Of course he wasn’t free to dedicate
himself to that irritation; he still had plans of his own, and a
country to conquer. Not to mention a bandit King and his magician
to defeat.

Thoughts of his impending battle conspired to
keep him awake that last night. He probably would have felt better
had he someone to confide in. Despite his feelings for Maggie,
there were just some things that he didn’t want to subject her to.
The first of which was obviously his coming battle. Deep down
inside Tristan knew his life lay in the balance, he would either
succeed or he would die. This wasn’t the fear that tugged at his
thoughts and robbed him of his precious sleep. The fear he carried
was for others: his family, his child, the child’s mother and her
family, and of course, Maggie. The young Prince sighed as he
quietly got out of bed and pulled on a light silk Guisian style
robe. Slowly, and with methodical care he made his way out into the
palace gardens were he brooded silently to himself.

How would Maggie handle it if his duty took
his life? Would she understand, grieve and find another? Would she
rant and rage at the injustice? Would her pain cause her to choose
a more selfish end? All of these thoughts collided in his mind like
waves smashing against the side of a cliff.

“Am I disturbing you?” A gentle voice
called.

“Mother?” Tristan asked in shock. He spun
around to find his mother standing in front of him, dressed in her
usual splendid fashion.

“When did you get here?” He asked.

Minutes ago.
Spoke a familiar voice in
his mind.

“Hello grandfather.” Tristan said a little
stiffly.

A flash of light off to Tristan’s left caused
him to turn and regard the human form of the mighty silver dragon;
Draconis. The Prince tried to keep his irritation hidden, but days
of irritation clearly showed on his face.

“Your fears and anger are not unfounded young
one.” Drake replied simply. “The path before you is strewn with
war, blood, tears and finally death.” He said quietly.
“Unfortunately, that’s what it means to be part of my family.”
Drake admitted sadly looking at his daughter.

“Mykl, despite what your father might think;
I know what is happening.” His mother explained as she stepped
forward. “The four of us need to talk, and this isn’t the place to
do so.” Annadora concluded.

“Four?” Tristan asked, confused.

Four.
Eurydice’s voice resonated in
his mind as she walked up beside him.

“The threat to dragon kind hasn’t ended with
The Bane’s
destruction.” Drake said as he stepped forward
and placed his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Even now another group
seeks to destroy us. They aren’t content to target the obvious
subject of the prophecy anymore.” Drake explained.

The prophecy Drake was referring to Tristan
finally heard in its entirety from Lesariu months ago.

“
Born into this world will be a son of a
mighty King and Queen descended from dragon bloodlines. He will
shake the foundations of man and bring forth an era when man and
dragon will live together for the benefit of all. A boy will be
born, both of his parents’ descendants of dragon blood. He will
grow to rule the world; it is up to his parents what kind of ruler
he will become.”