There Be Dragons (10 page)

“Good young sir! I fear that you are underestimating Carlo Baristo!” Radifini told him.

“He cannot love her. He cannot love her as I do!” Michelo swore.

“Well, I bid you good fortune then. I also caution you to take great care. And if, perchance, you should discover you need the aid of an old wizard, well, you know where I can be found,” Radifini said gravely, and turned and walked away.

With his shoe, and his destiny set in his own mind, Michelo knew it was time to head for home.

Carlo was in a rage, which was not a pretty thing.

He had his father’s bluster and the streak of evil that only his mother held in greater supply.

At his own castle in Baristo, he paced before the great fire. “They have told me—my spies have told me—that she didn’t come in at all last night! She’ll concoct a lie, of course, but she stayed out—in the hills. She loathes me—mocks me! Me—Carlo, Count of Baristo! The wretched girl. How can I marry such a young woman? She defies me; she thinks that she will say and do as she pleases!”

Geovana liked Marina even less than her son did—after all, she was the child of the falcon master-who-never-should-have-been-count
and
the wretched Princess Elisia, for whom men had gone to war, and all adored.

“It has never been the plan that you should stay married, Carlo. You need but walk with her to the altar, make her your bride, and then …”

“And then?” Carlo demanded of his mother.

And Geovana smiled her lovely, serene smile and said sweetly, “My son! Terrible things have been known to happen here! Great rocks—flying into bedrooms. And then, of course, there is the dragon.”

“The dragon! Bah. If there was a dragon, it hasn’t appeared in years!”

“Oh, but there is a dragon. And it will appear—if summoned,” Geovana said, still calm, amused. “You will marry—for Lendo. And when it is yours, joined with Baristo … well, those lands will be greater than those owned by the great Duke Fiorelli!”

Smiling, Geovana left him, heading for her balcony (where, it was still whispered, she had the power to raise the elements, wind and fire, earth and water. And, perhaps, the dragon.)

The great Duke Orisini Fiorelli was really a very good man. He was a cheerful man, as well, one who loved his wife and was grateful for his children. He woke each morning in a good mood, and as was his custom, he walked to his balcony that morning, ready to start the day by waving to any of his people who might be
down below. Though he was a little concerned that his son had not appeared as yet, he had deep faith in the boy, and would never believe that Michelo could have fallen on his way home.

That morning, he yawned and stretched, and looked around, but saw no one. He was about to return to his bedchamber when he saw something, perched on his balcony rail, that caught his astonished attention.

A falcon. Shimmering in the morning light. A magical creature, he thought with awe.

“How lovely you are! How I would love to own you, gorgeous creature. But then, you look as if you are the wind, freedom itself, so … I shall just admire you!”

Then, he could have sworn that it talked! Words came to him, as if carried softly on the wind.

“Oh, great Duke! Orisini Fiorelli of Calasia! You are the man with the greatest power, and the greatest responsibility!”

“Is my conscience talking to me?” he gasped. “Where have I failed?”

“Today, in the square at Lendo, you must not allow the future to be set without thought! I will come, and drop an olive branch before the lady who must become the bride of your son. Wrong can wear the face of right. But, you, great duke, must not be fooled!”

The falcon flapped its wing in the air. Then it turned, soared into the sky, and disappeared over the hills. Orisini stared after it. Amazed, and fearing his years were taking a toll on his mind, he shook his head. He returned to his bedroom, where his wife was stirring.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “I saw a falcon. It talked to me,” he said.

“That’s nice, dear,” she said, still half-asleep.

“A falcon … my conscience!” He stood, determined. “That’s what will be done!” he exclaimed.

His wife woke in full, blinking with confusion. “What will be done?” she asked.

“Today … in the square at Lendo. We will assemble all the ladies of Calasia in full. A falcon will come, and drop an olive branch. And Michelo must marry the girl who stands where the branch is dropped!”

He started out of the room. His wife, fully awake, jumped out of bed. “Orisini! There are bats flying about in your head, my love! The marriage is arranged. The invitations to the wedding are printed! There is to be a great feast … It will be Christmas Day! Orisini!” she wailed.

But he was gone.

And she sighed. The printers were going to just be furious!

Michelo came home to jubilation. The people greeted him even as he approached his house, and he greeted them with pleasure in return. At last, he walked into his parents’ home, the great castle in the heart of Calasia. His mother, on the staircase, ran down, crying his name, eager to embrace him. His younger sister, growing now into womanhood herself, raced to him, and he lifted her, and swung her about with happiness. He kissed and hugged his mother, and then his father came, too, and for several minutes, they did nothing other than rejoice in one another’s company.

Then, of course, his father asked about the situation on the borders, and Michelo gravely informed him that it was serious, and they must rally the people of Lendo and Baristo, and make them see the danger. His father listened solemnly, and agreed, but then staunchly decided they wouldn’t speak of such things just yet.

“I have something to say, Father,” Michelo told Orisini.

“And so do I!” his father said.

His mother groaned.

“It’s about the wedding,” Orisini said.

Again, Michelo’s mother groaned.

“I have something to say, as well,” Michelo told them.

“It’s not to be so simple,” Orisini explained.

“No, it cannot be, for I am in love,” Michelo informed.

“In love!” his mother gasped.

“In love! How wonderful!” Adriana exclaimed. Naturally, his sweet young sister would understand.

“Perhaps you should go to your room,” Lucia said worriedly to Adriana.

“Mother! And miss this?” Adriana protested, eyes sparkling.

“No one should miss love,” Michelo said, grinning at his sister.

“Bah, love!” his father said.

“Orisini!” his mother protested, outraged.

“Well, dear, it’s blessed that we are in love!” Orisini said, speaking quickly. “But our marriage was arranged.”

She rolled her eyes, looking at her son. “Hear how he intends to arrange this!”

“Yes, son, we shall all go to the square in Lendo. Every lady in all of my dukedom of Calasia will assemble there. When the olive branch falls—”

“When the olive branch falls!” Michelo interrupted, astounded. “No, no, no, Father. You listened, I know, but you didn’t hear me. I am in love. I know the girl I will wed.”

“You know this girl?” his mother asked.

“I met her in the hills. You see, I did have a bit of an accident on the way home—I hit my head. And when I awoke, she was there.”

“A dream girl, no more,” his father said impatiently.

“You hit your head, dear,” his mother said. “Obviously, you’re well enough now … but she might well have been a dream, indeed.”

“She was real! I have her shoe!” Michelo said, and produced it.

“Really. A dream girl would never lose a shoe,” Adriana said, quite practically.

Orisini ignored them both. “When the olive branch falls—”

“Father—”

“When the olive branch falls—”

“How will this olive branch fall?” Michelo demanded.

“A falcon will drop it,” Orisini said.

“A falcon spoke to him,” his mother said, rolling her eyes once again.

“A falcon?” Michelo repeated.

“Yes, dear, a falcon,” his mother said with a sigh.

“A
falcon?”
Michelo repeated.

“Why, yes! A falcon,” Orisini said, delighted since it appeared that Michelo understood.

A falcon? Could it be …

Michelo had seen wartrolls. And he had seen the beautiful falcon in the woods. A creature so very magnificent that surely …