The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (27 page)

She felt a wetness on her hand and looked down to see it covered in blood. Blood that was not her own. Blood of innocents like the lady she knew was this boy’s mother. Smoke filled her lungs and she struggled for air. The blood washed over her hand like a bucket of water, and her head grew dizzy.

“Wake up,” she heard someone calling from a distance. “Wake up,” they called, and though she tried she could not answer them. She heard the screech of the dragon above her, and looking up she met its glowing red eyes. Then it smiled again that evil, horrible smile and this time instead of flame, blood spurted from its mouth, covering her face.

Brynn gagged and jerked awake.

“Wake up,” called Drake, “we’ve got a fire.”

She dripped from head to toe in what she realized was not blood, but water. Some little old man with long wiry white hair and a body made of simply skin and bones was dumping a bucket of water over her. Smoke filled the cave and she realized she’d slept a little too close to the fire that night. The flames hadn’t burned her, but they had caught her dress afire as well as the blanket she lay upon.

She coughed from the smoke as Drake slapped out the last of the flames with his own half of the blanket. She looked down to her body. Her clothes were burned badly, and she was wearing nothing but rags held together by very little. Her skin was blackened from the soot.

“The dragon woke you.” The old man continued to pour the last drops out of the wooden bucket. Brynn grabbed the bucket from him in irritation.

“Stop that, old man.”

That’s when she recognized him as the addlepated old hermit who she used to see wandering about her father’s courtyard from time to time spouting nonsense about a dragon they had never seen.

“The dragon has tasted of you and he’s come to consume you, too. You mustn’t let him. You must embrace him so he’ll loosen his grip upon you.”

“You make no sense,” she told him. “Now turn your head from my near nakedness or have you no respect for a lady?”

He looked to Drake and then back to Brynn. “’Tis almost too late,” he told her. “You cannot stop the dragon unless you are one. You are not his wife. You need to be his wife or you will both be consumed.”

“Let us alone, old man.” Drake stepped forward, taking his tunic over his head as he walked.

“Ah, yes, you are to consummate the marriage. You may have a chance after all.”

“What?” Brynn jumped up, dropping the bucket in the process. Did the old hermit mean Drake was going to take her - right there? And while the old man watched? She was still half asleep or she would have realized the mere thought was absurd.

Drake reached out for her but she slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Then don the tunic yourself.” He threw it at her feet and she felt suddenly foolish. He’d only meant to lend her his clothing to hide her own nakedness from the old man. She hurriedly put it on, still coughing from the thick smoke.

She looked through the smoke but could see neither Drake nor the old man anymore.

“Drake?” she called, listening to her voice echo off the walls.

He appeared through the thick air, from the direction of the pool.

“Where were you?”

“Just checking to make certain mother hasn’t been disturbed.”

The word
mother
triggered off the dream she’d been involved in. She knew now how his mother had died. And she knew more about Drake’s father then she wanted.

“Let’s get out of here.” He took her by the arm and led her through the smoke.

“But what about the old hermit?” she asked.

“He’s already gone. He has a tendency to disappear.”

“But mayhap I should wash off in the pool. I look - ”

“I don’t want you anywhere near that pool again. Understand?”

He dragged her out into the fresh air, and she coughed one last lungful of smoke from her body before she gulped greedily at the bladder flask of water Drake handed her.

“I didn’t know you had this,” she said, wiping the excess water from her chin.

“’Tis the old man’s. If it wasn’t for him and his bucket, I’m not sure I would have been able to put out the fire.”

“Who is he?” She looked around, wondering as to where he’d disappeared.

“I’m not sure.” Drake drank from the goat bladder, leaving the empty flask on a rock where the old man would find it.

A horse neighed from nearby and Brynn looked up to see Gollimer heading toward them.

“I told you he’d come back,” said Drake. “Come, let’s get back to the castle. Daylight approaches.”

Drake stood before her with a naked chest that was very enticing. She wore his tunic, feeling very naked herself. He placed his cloak around her shoulders and fastened the dragon broach at the neck to hold it in place. It was large and long and pooled around her ankles. She appreciated his thoughtfulness, but felt uncomfortable.

“But I can’t go to Thorndale Castle like this.”

He mounted the horse and reached down a hand for her. “Come, wife.”

“I won’t. Not until I - ”

Her words were cut off as Drake scooped her up with one strong arm and sat her in the crook of his legs atop the horse. The cloak fell open over her bare legs.

“What will your knights and the rest of the castle think when they see us riding in like this? They’ll think we’ve spent the night together.”

“We have.” He directed Gollimer through the trees.

“Naked,” she added.

“We did.”

“You know what I mean. They’ll think - ”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” he said, and they took off at a gallop for the castle.

“Lower the drawbridge!”

Drake sat impatiently upon his horse, with Brynn pressed close against him. The air was cold, but he felt hotter than the fires of hell being so close to her. He didn’t know how much more of this he could endure before he went mad. He’d ridden back to Thorndale fast, with her body smashing into his with every gallop of the horse. She’d leaned back into him and since she sat side-saddle, she’d used the advantage to wrap her arms around his naked chest. It wasn’t easy ignoring the fact his wife rode with him, half naked and willingly clinging to his chest.

“Is that Lord Dunsbard?” came the sentry’s voice from atop the battlements. The sun was just beginning to rise, and his men squinted into the fog trying to see him.

“’Tis indeed your lord, and also the man who’ll have you all cleaning garderobes for the next month if you don’t open the gate now.”

“Hurry,” shouted the guards at the barbican where Drake waited. “Don’t make the lord wait.”

His men moved quickly at that comment, releasing the pulley that held the drawbridge in place. The iron chains clanked and rattled as the wheel spun and the drawbridge lowered over the water of the moat to meet them. Villagers, traveling vendors, and strolling minstrels he’d passed along the road now gathered around waiting to enter the castle’s courtyard. Peasant women balanced baskets of dough on one hip, babies on their other, waiting to enter the castle bakehouse to make their bread.

“Mama, why is Lord Dunsbard not wearing his tunic?” came a child’s voice from behind him.

“Who is that ragged girl?” asked another.

“Shhhh,” scolded the mother. “’Tis none of our concern with whom the lord spends his nights.”

He felt Brynn stiffen in his arms. She sat upright proudly and Drake dreaded what he knew she was going to do.

“I’m Lady Brynn. His wife,” she announced to the mother and children.

“Forgive us, my lady,” begged the woman, down on her knees. “We didn’t recognize you.”

“And as to what we were doing all night - ”

“They’ve finally consummated their marriage!” shouted the priest as he joined them. “Congratulations. You are now truly man and wife.”

Brynn opened her mouth to protest, but Drake had to stop her. He pulled her closer and kissed her directly on the mouth. A cheer went up from the crowd as the drawbridge settled into place to accommodate them. Brynn pushed away and tried to explain, but the noise from the cheering crowd and the iron portcullis scraping up to gain them passage into the courtyard kept anyone from hearing her protests.

“You cur!” Brynn pushed his arms away, but Drake only held her closer. “You are letting them think we coupled.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He waved to the crowd and acknowledged his knights who rushed forward to congratulate them.

“’Tis a lie,” she spat. “I’m not truly your wife and you know it.”

“You should be, and you know it.” He nodded to the ladies in the courtyard who blushed at the sight of his naked chest. “Any woman here would give anything to be in your place right now.”

“Any woman here is obviously in awe of you and your position. I’m not. This is my castle and you stole it from me. You’re not going to steal my dignity as well. I intend on letting every beggar, knight, and servant here know we didn’t couple last night. Or ever!”

“You do that and I’ll be forced to embarrass you.”

“What makes you think I’m not already embarrassed? I don’t think you could do worse, my lord.”

“Keep tempting me, and you’ll find out.”

He stopped Gollimer and slid from the horse, handing the reins to Asad who ran to greet him. Drake held up a hand to escort Brynn from the horse, but she had ideas of her own.

“Please, be quiet,” she told the crowd. They rustled and stilled, waiting for her announcement.

“My lord.” Asad looked at Drake’s bare chest with a smile on his face. “I see my courting advice came in handy after all.”

Drake was about to correct him, when he caught himself. Why argue with the way things were going?

“Aye, I suppose it did. Tend to my horse while I tend to my wife. I don’t expect to be disturbed for the rest of the day.”

“Of course, my lord,” answered Asad with a huge smile.

“I wouldn’t smile if I were you, Asad. I’ve yet to hear your excuse for letting Lady Brynn leave the castle when I’d specifically asked you to watch her.”

“I can explain, my lord.”

“You’ll do so later. I’ve got other things to tend to first.”

He watched in amusement as Brynn tried to look dignified sitting atop Gollimer. Her skin was black with soot and her hair was loose, dirty and tangled. He had half a mind to just sit and watch and let her try to explain they did nothing along the lines of coupling, and why she sat there in this attire. Nothing was going to change the crowd’s mind about what they saw. They considered Drake and Brynn fully wed now, and why should he stop them? He rather liked the idea and the respect that went along with it.

“We’ll throw a feast tonight to celebrate the consummation,” came the steward’s voice from behind him. Drake turned to face him. “With your permission, my lord,” added the steward.

“As you see fit,” answered Drake.

When Brynn started to protest, he reached up and threw her over his shoulder. Her fists pounded his back and her legs kicked furiously trying to get free. The crowd cheered in utter approval.

“My lord,” came Birdie’s meek voice from his side. “Shall I see to a bath for Lady Brynn?”

“Aye. Let me down,” cried Brynn.

“Nay. I’ll see to it myself,” he answered.

Drake looked up across the courtyard, spying Calais lingering near the back of the crowd. With him were men in blue robes who he knew at once were Hermod and the Elders. He needed to know what was going on inside these castle walls. He had instructed his men not to let the Elders inside again. But first, he needed to tend to his wife. He headed off for their bedchamber, wondering what the hell he was going to do once he got her there.

Brynn dug her nails into Drake’s shoulders, hoping she was severely wounding him. He had no right to embarrass her by throwing her over his shoulder. She felt like the court jester, the way he flung her over his shoulder like a sack of flour and headed for the bedchamber.

“Put me down!” she demanded.

Drake took the stairs two at a time, even with her weight over his shoulder. He ignored her demands. Knights, servants, ladies and even a few monks, walked by giving a smile or nod of approval.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she ground out.

“Immensely.” His deep voice vibrated against her chest.

“Put me down before I start screaming.”

“As you wish, my lady.” He kicked open the bedchamber door, almost knocking it from its hinges. He proceeded to the bed in the center of the room and deposited her upon it. She landed with a whoosh of air from her lungs as she hit the mattress is a prone position.

“I despise you.”

“So has anything changed?” He smiled and headed over to close the door.

“You are no different than your father. And just as evil to treat me this way.”

The door shut with a thud and he stood motionless, his back toward her.

“I told you never to compare me to him again.” His voice was muted, as he spoke toward the door.