The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (29 page)

Calais came up behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“The man who beds you is said to be cursed with ill luck forever. He will die unless he can stop the dragon from coming.”

“That’s nonsense.” She tried to move away, but his hand gripped her shoulder a bit tighter. She clenched her teeth and tried to ignore him.

“Did you know that your husband has dismissed me? I’m no longer to be his squire, a knight or anything else I’ve always longed to be.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She was actually relieved.

“’Tis because of my ill luck. The luck you’ve brought upon me. I think it’s time to share a bit of this ill luck with you!”

She pulled his hand off her shoulder and turned to face him. He wasn’t much taller than her and she didn’t have trouble looking him in the eye. “Are you threatening me, Calais? I don’t think my husband would like to hear of that.”

“I don’t think he’d like to hear you’ve begged me to bed you either. Or the fact that at this very minute there’s a conspiracy rising against him, just as you’ve ordered.”

“Nay! Stop it. I told you, I’ve changed my mind.”

“My days are limited, Witch, but yours are not. When Drake finds out you’re the one who’s heading the little rebellion against him, I’d hate to think of what he’d do to you.”

“I will not go against him,” Brynn said, knowing now she was wrong to ever think of it in the first place. “I am his wife!” Never had the words sounded so good. Now, she was proud to say them, and really meant them. She had feelings for Drake and was ready to stand at his side.

“Oh really?” chuckled Calais. “You’re more my wife than his, now, aren’t you? You haven’t given him much reason to believe otherwise, have you?”

Brynn paced the floor, not knowing what to do. She couldn’t very well tell Drake there was a conspiracy against him, headed by Calais without incriminating herself. Especially since it had been her idea at the start. Not to mention, she had begged Drake to take Calais on as his squire. This put her right in the middle of it, in Drake’s eyes. But still, she had never meant for anyone to get hurt or killed. She couldn’t say the same for Calais’s plans.

“Get out!” she told Calais, finger pointing at the door. “Get out and leave me alone. I want you out of Thorndale Castle by nightfall.”

“And where would I go with a broken leg, my lady? I can hardly climb the cliffs of Lornoon in this position. Especially in the dark. You wouldn’t throw me out like this, would you? You could at least wait until morning. Or, I suppose I could go to Lord Dunsbard and tell him - ”

“You’ll tell him nothing, do you understand? You can stay until morning, but then I want you out of my sight forever. If I find you here again within the castle walls, I’ll be the one to personally feed you to the dragon.”

Calais chuckled. “The dragon looks for you, my lady. You’ve spited Dracus by leaving. He’ll not let you get away with it. Trust me, Dracus will be back. And next time, he won’t fail.”

Calais’s words bothered Brynn immensely. She closed the door after him, wondering if it were true. But her own life wasn’t the only one she was concerned of losing. Now there were people conspiring against her husband, and for all she knew, wanting to kill him.

She felt the need to help him, to be at his side should he be attacked. She looked down to her father’s torn, burnt banner sitting on the hearth. It was time to accept Drake. It was time to start acting like his wife. She shoved the pieces into the fire with her foot and watched them burn. Her father’s crest was gone now. Now she served under the crest of
The Dragon
.

Brynn approached the great hall with Birdie at her side. She was dressed elegantly, in a white smock with a scarlet kirtle, with long white tippets trailing from the elbows to the floor. She wore a golden girdle low on her hips, embedded with jewels of amethyst and jade. This belt had been a favorite of her mother’s. Her hair was woven together in an intricate design and wrapped in a circle around each ear as was fashion.

“What troubles you, my lady?” asked Birdie, fixing a small flower on the circlet sitting atop Brynn’s head. “You seem so distant since that man came to your chamber.”

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention that again, Birdie. Especially in front of people. They may think I’ve had a tryst.”

Birdie’s head went down with a slight, “Aye, my lady.”

Brynn could see that Birdie herself was troubled, and she had no doubt why.

“Birdie, it doesn’t matter what secrets you’ve told anyone. I realize it’s not always an easy thing to remain silent. You are my friend and I hold nothing against you.”

“Oh, thank you!” She looked up to Brynn with a smile. “I was only trying to help you regain the castle, honest I was.”

“I know you were. You did as I asked trying to turn people in my favor. ’Tis my mistake. I should have specified not to tell Calais anything.”

“He means to hurt Lord Dunsbard, doesn’t he?”

“Nay, Birdie. I will never let him do that.”

Brynn spied Drake across the great hall, wearing a very tight tunic, and not looking at all the way he should at a celebration. He was much too casual. She suddenly felt very overdressed. His shining sword with the head of a dragon on the hilt displayed proudly at his waist. He held a tankard of ale in one hand, and gestured with his other as he spoke with his knights by the open fire.

The musicians saw Brynn standing in the doorway and the trumpets announced her arrival. Drake handed his ale to a knight and walked to greet her.

“My lady, you do look quaint tonight.” He held out his arm and Brynn latched on to it.

“Quaint?” she asked as they entered the room and made their way to the dais. “I would have thought a word more befitting would have sufficed.” She nodded to the occupants who bowed or curtsied in return.

“Mayhap I was being too vague, my lady. I should have said you put the stars in the heavens to shame with the way you sparkle tonight. Yet at the same time your smile warms the room hotter than a summer’s sun. Your beauty surpasses all the splendors of nature, your charm sweeter than the honey of one hundred bees.”

She felt herself blushing at his comments. It was so unlike Drake to dote over her like this. And very surprising as well. She would have believed him had he stopped at that, but when she saw a nod of approval from Asad and realized Drake was speaking loud enough for the entire room to hear, she knew he was doing nothing more than putting on a show for his people.

“You daze me with your presence, my lady. Your superior elegance - ”

“Quaint will be sufficient,” she interrupted him.

She took her seat at the lord’s right side at the dais, and when Drake picked up his wine goblet in a toast, she had a feeling he wasn’t done with his compliments.

“To the most robust wife in the kingdom,” he said, startling her a bit.

“Robust?”

The crowd cheered wildly.

“Today we’ve lain as man and wife. My body has filled hers, and my essence as well.”

The crowd cheered again, and Brynn felt very uncomfortable.

“I have claimed my virgin as my bride. She will bear me many sons to become warriors and follow in my footsteps. My virgin is no longer a virgin. For as of today I’ve taken her innocence and made her a woman.”

Brynn never felt more uneasy. Especially when Drake grabbed her by the arm and helped her up next to him, placing a goblet of wine in her own hand. Every time she decided Drake was to her liking, he did something foolish to upset her, like this. She didn’t know what to think, nor what to do. She wanted to put down the goblet and run from the room, but something made her stay.

Instead, she raised her goblet and drank to the toast. Over the rim she saw Calais in the crowd. He was smiling his rotten-toothed smile when he should be angry at her for telling him to leave. How she wished now she had made him leave the castle earlier. Her stomach turned and she sat back down.

The food arrived and the musicians struck up the music. Drake loaded up a trencher in front of her with mutton, fresh bread and baked eel, but she was too upset to take a bite.

“My lady, is the feast not to your liking?” he asked.

“I just don’t have a taste for mutton or eel,” she lied.

“Then I’ll have the cook kill a chicken, or perhaps send my huntsmen out to find a bit of venison.” Drake raised his hand to call over the head huntsman, but Brynn stopped him.

“Nay!” she said, her hand on his. “I just think I need a bit of fresh air.”

Drake rose immediately, helping her stand. The music stopped and all eyes were on them.

“Carry on,” he commanded with a wave of his hand. The laughter and commotion started up again as Drake escorted Brynn out into the courtyard.

“Where do you wish to go?” asked Drake, trapping her hand under his arm as they walked.

“I wish to sit on the bench in my mother’s flower garden,” she told him, pointing to the spot up ahead.

They entered the garden, but no flowers grew there. Since Drake had stormed the castle, the garden was barren, and had never been replanted. They sat among charred remains of branches and vines that once held life and beauty. A dead, empty shell where once love, life, and beauty had been present. Exactly how Brynn felt at this moment.

“Something seems to have upset you, Lady Brynn. Was it the celebration?”

“Nay, the celebration was fine.” She forced a smile, not wanting to tell him how his words had burned into her. “I would like you to answer my questions now, if you would.”

“We’ve agreed upon answering questions after the celebration.”

“I know. I guess I am a bit anxious.”

“I see.” He took Brynn’s hand in his and ran his fingers up and down the back of her hand. “What did you want to know?” He turned her hand over and with the tip of one finger traced circles in her palm, causing tingling sensations throughout her entire body.

“I want to know why you’re called
Dragon’s Son
.”

His fingers stopped. He let loose her hand and stood, looking up to the sky. She didn’t think he was going to answer at first, but after a long wait, he did.

“I suppose ’tis time you knew the truth about me, Brynn. After all, you have been truthful with me.”

She stirred on the wooden bench, clasping and unclasping her hands atop her lap. He continued talking, but not looking at her. Instead, he looked up to the moon for his strength.

“My father, as I’ve already told you, was an evil man. He was also a Pendragon. Do you know what a Pendragon is?”

He turned to look at her in the moonlight. His body was silhouetted dark against the blue rays of light.

“’Tis a title of sorts. A name. Leader of men,” she told him.

“True,” he nodded. “But it also has a dark, magical side to it.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sat next to her, but didn’t touch her. Instead, he laid his hand on the hilt of the sword, running his fingers along the head of the dragon.

“A Pendragon has the ability to . . . change.”

“Change? I don’t understand.”

“My father,” he continued, “was able to change his physical form. The last time I saw him, he shapeshifted into a dragon.”

“Oh!” She couldn’t hide the startled gasp from within her. Suddenly the dream in the cave came crashing back into her mind. She was the body of a young boy who saw his father for the first time shift into a dragon. That boy, as she suspected, was none other than Drake. “That’s how he killed your mother,” she said. “As a dragon, didn’t he?”

Drake looked up in surprise. “Aye. He was angry with her. His dragon’s breath charred her to death.”

“And you saw it happen. You were young, and frightened. Too frightened to try to save your own mother.”

She saw him holding back the emotions. His head nodded slightly and he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the tremble. He stood again, back toward her so she couldn’t see the dampness in his eyes, but she knew it was there.

“How do you know all this? You said you didn’t have the ability to scry.”

“I don’t.” She stood and walked toward him. She laid her hand on his elbow. He didn’t turn to face her. “I saw it in a dream. I experienced what you did as a boy - but in a dream last night in the cave. No one should have to go through what you did, Drake.”

“No one should have to die the way my mother did,” he ground out. “I should have killed the bastard for what he’d done to her.”

“You were young. And scared,” she tried to comfort him. “You couldn’t have done anything differently.”

“Perhaps not at the time, but I can now.”

“I don’t understand.” She let go of his arm. He turned to face her.

“’Tis because of me that so many virgins have died at the jaws of Dracus. I should have stopped him long ago. ’Tis my fault the dragon lives.”

“Are you saying . . . your father is Dracus?”

“Aye. I believe so.”

Brynn thought back to the episode at the cave. Seeing Drake’s father in the water. That dragon was him - the red dragon. It came to the man when he’d summoned it, and they became one.