The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (42 page)

“At least she’ll be closer to her husband now,” said Brynn. “Mayhap they’ll find comfort together after all.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Drake hadn’t seen his father’s reflection in the pool again, but knew Aurelius Pendragon remained between two worlds forever with the thoughts that trapped him there.

Drake had changed much since the day he had slain Dracus with love. Brynn worked with him to control his anger, and he did his best to rule Thorndale Castle fairly, with Brynn at his side. The Klarens never returned, fearing Drake more than ever since he’d walked through and survived the fire without being burned. He’d let the prisoners that betrayed him work off their debts, giving them a second chance. They were all willing to change their attitude towards Drake once they saw his own transformation.

Rowley, the falconer, ended up leaving Thorndale Castle, but told Brynn he wouldn’t cause trouble for her again. He realized Drake was no longer the same man, but still his wife and son’s deaths hurt him deeply. Drake warned him his anger may consume him some day, and Rowley took it to heart.

Birdie remained as Brynn’s handmaid, still not able to keep a secret, and Juturna made residence at the castle at Drake and Brynn’s request. Sir Broderick proved to be a very loyal knight, and Drake was pleased with the man’s leadership skills among the garrison.

And Asad, Drake’s squire and best friend, was finally dubbed a knight by Drake himself. It had been a fine ceremony, with many festivities, food, music, and Asad’s favorite - women.

Drake put his hand on Brynn’s stomach, sending some loving energy toward their child who would be born soon. Brynn’s hand went atop his and they shared a kiss.

“’Tis time,” he told her.

Everyone exited the cave, and Drake’s men stood ready, waiting for his command. On his order, they pulled a lever which released an avalanche of large boulders. The rocks crashed down, falling into a pile in an attempt to seal off the mouth of the cave. Through the dust, Drake gasped when he realized the old addlepated man stood just inside the cave doing nothing to try to escape.

“Nay!” Drake lunged forward to try to save him, but Brynn pulled him back.

“I can’t just leave him in there,” Drake said. “I’ve got to try to help him.”

“You’ll be killed if you try to enter now,” warned Brynn.

“Then we’ll dig him out when we’re finished.”

“My lord, it’ll take a fortnight to clear that blocked entrance,” explained Asad. “The old man will surely be dead by then.”

Drake knew they were right, but he still felt as if he had to try. At one time, he wouldn’t have cared about an old man’s life. But he wasn’t the same Drake of Dunsbard he used to be. He had changed. He was getting in touch with his true self, and trying to make up for all the years of wrong-doing behind him.

“You don’t need to worry about him, my lord.” Juturna walked up with a new gazing crystal in her hand. “I see the man is very special. He may be trapped for a long time, but we’re not meant to help him. He has things he needs to accomplish on his own.”

“Who is he, Juturna?” asked Brynn. “We don’t even know anything about him.”

“He’s an old soothsayer, my lady,” she answered, still looking at her crystal. “I don’t know much about him, but through my crystal I can tell we will see him again some day.”

“Then at your word, we’ll let him find his way out by himself,” said Drake. “I know how important it is for us all to learn our lessons on our own.”

“Will you say the same thing when our son is born, my lord?” Brynn smiled and rubbed her large belly.

“Our son will be fine,” he told her. “He’s a Pendragon. With him comes the birth of a new image. An image forged in light, not darkness. A light conceived by both of us. He will bring a good name to future Pendragons. The legend lives on through both,
The Dragon and the
Dreamwalker.
”

From the author:

I hope you enjoyed
The Dragon and the Dreamwalker
, Book One- Fire. Book Two – Earth,
The Duke and the Dryad,
of the
Elemental Series
is available now. Watch for the next two books in the series,
The Sword and the Sylph
, and
The Sailor and the Siren
, to be released soon.

Please stop by my website for updates and blogs. Thanks for your support.

Elizabeth Rose

Elizabethrosenovels.com

Excerpt from The Duke and the Dryad:

Wolfe charged through the forest on horseback, a burning torch in his hand to guide his way. A dozen of his men followed close behind, but they moved too slowly in the darkness for his liking. He broke away and headed toward the stone ring just at the clearing of the mighty oaks.

He knew this druid circle well, as ’twas the place he used to sneak to as a child to watch the pagans, especially during a full moon. This had also been the place where his mother lost her life, thanks to him. He would never forgive himself for telling his father the whereabouts of the druids. His father hated the druids and their heathen ways, and now Wolfe hated them as well.

He could see the white hooded robes of the druids within the henge as he approached. The moonlight spilled down upon them, lighting up the midst of the stone circle, giving it an eerie, mysterious appearance. He didn’t like coming back here, as it brought too many memories to the surface of which he’d rather forget. He pushed forward, anxious to retrieve his bull and head back to the castle. He wanted naught more than to be out of this night air and far away from his past memories. As far away as possible.

But when he rode closer and heard the chanting and shouting from within, he knew he was too late. The deed was done.

“Nay!” he cried, jumping from his horse, torch in one hand and unsheathing his sword with the other. He rushed into the outer stone circle only to stop dead in his tracks by the horrific site that greeted him further within.

His prized bull was tied down with many ropes and laid atop a huge flat stone. In the moonlight he could see the carved adders encircling the outer rim of the sacrificial altar. Two phallic-looking standing stones were on each side, a carved spiraling snake with an egg in its mouth etched into each. And then his eyes fell upon his rare, white bull. Blood-splattered and not moving, his heart sank to see it was already slaughtered. He was too late, and because of it, his animal was now dead.

“What the hell have you done?” he shouted, fighting back the anger that was threatening to unleash itself on these unarmed people. Flashes of memory ripped through his brain of the night his own father sent out a raid on the druids, killing every one of them that were present – including his own mother. Had his father known his mother was hidden under a robe, he would have called off the attack. And had Wolfe told his father his mother’s secret, none of it would have happened this way. If only he hadn’t been so stupid at the young age of eight to tell a man who hated druids where to find them. And if only Wolfe had known about the raid ahead of time, he could have stopped his mother from being killed and also saved his father from taking his own life afterwards when he realized what he had done.

The anger growing within him through the years was now rising to the surface. He felt like killing every one of the druids for the sins of those of the past, convincing his mother to turn from her Christian ways. But he wasn’t one to strike down those that were unarmed and helpless. That’s where he differed from his late father.

He was used to dealing with warriors and facing those who put up a fight. He knew he wouldn’t get a fight from these pagans, and that only made it harder for him, as he really wanted to strike out and make them pay for what they’d done.

He could hear his men approaching from behind. The circle of druid priests looked over to him, but his eyes fastened on the odd girl standing over the bull with the bloodied axe in her hand.

“This is a sacred circle,” called out the man behind the girl whom he figured was in charge. “You and your men are not allowed in here and neither are your weapons.”

His men dismounted and ran to join him.

“I find that amusing since you’ve just used a weapon to slaughter my prized bull -which, by the way, you also stolen from me.”

“We did not steal it,” said the man. “Rae-Nyst brought it to us at our request.”

“Who is Rae-Nyst?” he asked.

“I am.” The girl with the axe stepped forward, firelight from his torch lighting up her clear green eyes, reminding him of the plants of the forest.

She was dressed not in plain white robes, but rather a colorful long gown of green trimmed with pink. Long scalloped sleeves hung well past her knuckles. Her hands were covered with green fabric, her fingers emerging from underneath, giving her the essence of royalty - perhaps even a queen.

Her hair was long and oaken in hue with the front died some exotic pink by berries or roots he guessed. Her head was crowned with mistletoe and ivy. Flowers of various colors were interwoven throughout. And the oddest thing about the girl was the painting on her skin. Pink and green flowers, berries, and fauna, traveled up the left side of her face and arched over one eye. And now that he looked at her closer, he realized he was mistaken. For believe it or not, there was something even odder about her yet. ’Twas her ears. He couldn’t see clearly in the dark, and they were partially hidden beneath her headpiece, but he was sure they were slightly pointed at the tips, giving her an otherworldly appearance.

“You!” he ground out, feeling the anger inside him growing with each drop of blood that dripped from the axe in her hand onto the ground at her feet. He hated Druidism and this did naught to quench the fires that burned within him. “You stole my bull and killed it and now you will all pay. I should kill each and every one of you in exchange for the death of my bull.” His own words shocked him, and he felt his warrior father’s blood pumping furiously through his veins.

He raised his sword and motioned for his men to come closer. He moved forward into the inner circle, and immediately the druids all knelt – but not in homage or fear of him. Instead, their attention was on the odd girl they’d called Rae-Nyst.

“Guardian of the forest and of all nature, come to our aid and protect us from the blades of the soldiers,” cried out the chief druid.

Wolfe was confused, as they seemed to be talking to the odd girl, instead of one of their pagan gods.

Before he had a chance to tell his men to do anything, the girl named Rae-Nyst dropped the hatchet and raised her hands in the air. She closed her eyes and threw her head back to let the full moon bathe her face.

Wolfe hesitated, mesmerized by her exotic beauty. The moonlight illuminated her skin, her delicate features taking on a sense of power and strength. He felt so awed by the girl that he didn’t know what was happening until he heard the shouts of his men and also felt something winding around his ankle. He looked down to see vines of the forest creeping along the ground and wrapping around each of his men, tightening and bringing them to their knees. The vines moved upwards, wrapping around their hands and bodies next, so they couldn’t move. He took his sword and severed the vine, but two more sprung from the cut end instead.

“What is happening, Lord Wolfe?” shouted Sir Braden, finding the same thing happening to him, though he was yet to be immobilized by the vines.

“I don’t know,” he answered, baffled by the whole situation. He had never seen anything like this in his life.

“’Tis the girl,” shouted another of his men, struggling on the ground as a vine wrapped around his neck. “She is bewitched and commanding this to happen. She is using magick. She means to kill us, the witch!”

“Nonsense,” he replied, not wanting to believe any of this was real. But his men were falling fast, and his sword was useless against these woody warriors. Then he looked to his other hand, having an idea of something that may just stop it after all. He took his torch and moved it toward the attacking vine. The greenery almost seemed to back away from the fire. He could have sworn he heard a scream as he touched the flame to it, causing a small sizzling puff of smoke to waft up into the air. Immediately, the earthen soldier pulled away, releasing him from its grip.

“Use your torches,” he called out to his men. “Use the fire to burn it.”

“Nay!” came the girl’s voice as she rushed forward. “Do not harm the vines with fire.”

He turned abruptly, his torch coming near her in the process. Her eyes opened wide and she backed away. She was obviously afraid of fire, same as the vines at his legs.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Afraid of a little fire, but not afraid of slaughtering a defenseless creature with a blade?”

She held one hand up to block her face from the flame. He could have been mistaken, but he thought he saw her body tremble.

“Put out the torch,” she said in a shaky, soft voice. “And don’t use it on the vines anymore, please.”

“You give me one reason to adhere to your wishes after you just killed my best bull.”