Rise of the Dragon Queen

by Sherri Beth Mitchell

  Then Prince Dalton waltzed into the room, catching everyone’s eye with a small, but rather dazzling ball. It was the size of a fist, made out of leather, and painted white with purple flowers. Dalton smiled and waved the ball in the air. The people cheered and laughed with him. Then he twirled around and threw the ball with all his strength straight at Keelan.

  Keelan started to duck, but he was moving as if in slow motion. The ball smacked into him with a bell-ringing thud between his eyes, knocking him on his backside. The crowd behind him roared with laughter, as did Silvia.

  Red heat burst into Keelan’s cheeks. He was angered by the humiliation and by everyone jeering at him. He sat up and saw Silvia embracing Dalton warmly and his expression changed to a dark rage. He stood up and walked towards the two and a dagger appeared in his hand out of nowhere. He raised it and stabbed the prince betwixt the shoulder blades. Silvia screamed as the prince fell to his knees, and then onto his side.

  “My lady,” Keelan whispered, dropping the dagger. Silvia looked up at him, and he could see the frightened tears falling behind her veil. “My lady, are you taken?”

  Hans was sweating profusely, muttering in his sleep. King Zacharias, who was infuriated at him for letting his only precious child get so close to Gregorich Hapshamin, haunted his dreams.

  “Remember your oaths to me!” Zacharias thundered as he walked the boards under gallows. “Have you forgotten that your life’s sole purpose is to keep my Silvia safe? By the Dark Moon, what were you thinking bringing her here in the first place? Have the scars on your hands disappeared?”

  “No, they have not,” Hans said quietly. Guilt racked his every limb as he began a mental tally of all his mistakes leading to this moment. “But she found out about her heritage, Your Highness, without Dessica, Maura, or I telling her of it! When she insisted that we come here so that she could see the city, it was too hard to refuse her. Surely you must understand!”

  “I do understand,” said the King darkly. “You know that the snakes in the pit bite, so you withhold knowledge of them to her. When she finds out and wants to investigate for herself, you let her walk right in to see which ones are poisonous. Am I correct so far?”

  “No, Your Majesty! I give you my word that it was not as you say!” Hans knew he was pleading, but cared not. He watched uneasily as Zacharias stopped beside a readied noose, fingering the thick threads of the rope.

  “This is where my beloved daughter will come when Gregorich finds out she is the true queen, if he doesn’t gut her on the spot to protect what he sees as his. And when she comes here, rest assured you will be right beside her.” He reached out and grabbed Hans’ arm, jerking him towards the noose. Quickly, he fit it around Hans’ neck and tightened it. “I just want you to get a taste of what Silvia will feel if you should fail.”

  Suddenly, the trapdoor beneath Hans’ feet disappeared. He tried to scream, but the rope only cut into his air supply more. His last conscious thought before waking up was that he would never let Silvia be lead to the gallows.

  Early the next morning, Silvia wrote a letter to Dessica. She said nothing that would incriminate her, but she made sure that Dessica could read into what was happening. At the end of the letter she did not write her name, only an ‘S’. Then, as an afterthought, she wrote something else: Neihado bastha kri lamuras. She wrote it in Kieluna, and what she wrote meant ‘read between the lines’. She sighed as she thought of all the little games they used to play in Kieluna. That was such a long time ago, it seemed.

  She sealed the letter with a little candle wax and waited for everyone else to awaken. It was only a few minutes before she heard someone in the men’s room coughing and shuffling across the floor. She dressed quickly in a beige day gown with shortened sleeves and stepped outside her room into the hall. The door to the men’s room opened and Keelan and Frero came out; though clean and brushed, they appeared as though their nights had been as restless as hers. She liked how he remained in human form when they were at the Home Away From Home. She remembered Keelan rescuing her in her dreams and blushed behind her nuuisaket.

  “Gentlemen, would you care to have breakfast with me? I don’t feel like going by myself.”

  The men bowed and said yes. They followed her down the stairs to the tavern of the inn, where she asked if a private table was available. The table was almost another room itself; it had four walls made of lattice and a large, open doorway. It adjoined the other private table they had taken their meal at the night Romone was murdered.

  They ordered their food and sat down to wait.

  Silvia slapped the table lightly with the palm of her hand. “I wish to go to Zander’s this morning, and I forgot to wake everyone up and tell them to get ready,” she said. “Such an idiot I have become.” She started to get up, but Keelan stood and said he would go inform them while the food was cooking.

  When he had gone, Frero leaned over towards her. “My lady, did you sleep well? You seem a bit disoriented this morning.”

  Silvia smiled a little. “I had strange dreams and I do not know what to make of them.”

  “I know nothing of dreams, milady,” Frero admitted regretfully.

  “Neither do I. Perhaps I shall ask Zander about them.”

  “Yes, I think that would be a keen idea. He seems very smart.”

  Keelan returned and presented Silvia with a white rose that he had bought off of the innkeeper moments before.

  “Thank you,” Silvia said. “But what is it for?”

  The young man’s cheeks brightened. “I thought it might compliment your dress.”

  She accepted the rose, as well as two pins Keelan had procured, and pinned it to her left breast. “It is lovely, Keelan.”

  Keelan bowed. “Anything for my Queen,” he said in a low whisper.

  The food was served and they ate the blueberry toast with jam, eggs, and slices of pork. Warm milk, straight from the cow, was to drink.

  Frero watched Silvia and Keelan as they talked about going to Zander’s. He knew that Keelan was falling in love, if he was not there already. The boy adored her and would worship the ground she walked on if given the chance. But Frero couldn’t tell if Silvia felt the same, and wondered about it until breakfast was over.

  Upon going back up the stairs, they found everyone dressed for the day and talking in the women’s room. Hans informed Silvia that the cart was being prepared for the trip as they spoke.

  She pulled Dilliby near her side and said, “I am sending Dilliby to Dessica to give her a letter about what is happening. Anyone who wishes to withdraw from the company can do so now and go with him. This is your last chance.” No one volunteered.

  “Very well.” She handed Dilliby the letter and Hans explained to him that he must take it straight home to the headmistress. Dilliby nodded his understanding and was given instructions to take the spare cart when he left. He departed promptly.

  Minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. Keelan changed to a fox and Quentin became invisible as Hans opened the door. George and Stefan from the King’s Guard stood outside.

  George said, “The King wishes to know the answer to his proposal. He also sent you these.” He motioned to someone and the room was suddenly filled with servants of the King, all bearing large bouquets of peach and red-colored roses. All were laid on the women’s beds. When the servants finished their delivery and left, both beds were heaped with roses, and the floor around the beds was covered too. A special bouquet of irises and white roses was handed to her.

  Silvia looked at the room in astonishment. She noticed Keelan sitting by the men’s adjoining door, staring at her intensely. She touched the white rose attached to her bosom and sent him a tiny smile.

  “Tell His Majesty,” she said, “that we will come if he meets my conditions. A woman of stature does not accept such a proposal without her requests. Expect my company to arrive tomorrow morning and to have rooms awaiting us. I want three of them: one for the men, mine in the middle, and one for
the women. I wish my room to be large and I want it to be at one of the palace’s corners, servants’ rooms on either side as I asked. I prefer the room to be in the back of the palace, so when I slumber I may do it in peace without hearing the hustle and bustle of the city as soon as I wake up in the mornings. Also, I would not mind being several floors up, for I want a beautiful view when I look out my windows. A balcony is definitely preferred as well. I also wish to come and go as I please inside and outside the palace.”

  George looked relieved at her decision to stay with Gregorich, and she wondered briefly if the King had told him to take her by force if she had answered in the negative.

  “I will inform His Highness of your needs immediately, Lady Serena,” George promised. “We will be expecting you in the morning.”

  “Oh, would you send a cart over in case ours is too weighed down?”

  “Of course, my lady.” He and Stefan bowed deeply and went out.

  Chapter Three—Roses, Magic, and Love

  Quentin appeared beside Silvia as the door closed and threw back the hood of his cloak. Silvia noticed that his hair was tussled and he was frowning.

  “How did you do that?” Motilda exclaimed, not having seen him disappear when the door was opened. They had purposely kept his ‘abilities’ a secret from her until they trusted her more.

  Quentin tossed her an unreadable glance and said, “The story is too long for the moment. Perhaps later I will tell you.” He picked up a rose, and then threw it down, jumping back.

  Keelan trotted over and sniffed at the dropped rose. No one speak! We must leave the room!

  Silvia was alarmed, but motioned everyone outside of the room and down the hallway. They stopped at the foot of the stairs to make sure the Guards had left and to speak to a once-more invisible Quentin.

  “Those roses were enchanted, milady. The one I picked up made me feel as if someone were trying to worm their way into my mind to read my thoughts.”

  Silvia did not question him. He would know quicker than anyone else on how to do such a thing. Instead she found the innkeeper and (much to his surprise) ordered that all the roses in her room be taken away before she returned. Outside, Hans and Maura grabbed each other’s hands and announced that they would be walking to the orchards nearby, not riding along to Zander’s.

  Hans glared at Keelan before they walked away. “This is to keep suspicion from taking root in the King’s mind. Seeing all of us leave as soon as the Guards are gone might make him think we are trying to run. You and your brother did well protecting Her Highness last night. I am giving you the chance to place higher on my list of respected men. Should anything go askew, I will place you on the gallows myself.” That said he ambled away, chatting with Maura and glancing over his shoulder at them.

  The ride to Zander’s was very quiet and tense. Frero drove with Quentin by his side (wearing his cloak as always when in the public eye). Keelan sat, staring out the back of the cart, his body rigid and his furry red ears pricked up. Silvia was lost in thought, wondering what would have happened had she taken up one of the roses and been found out. Her heart was galloping at the thought. She could almost see Gregorich’s eyes widening in disbelief as her thoughts of treachery against him were seen. Motilda twirled a long strand of her hair as she looked out at the scenery. She seemed to be a quiet girl, but Silvia suspected that not all of her horses were in the barn, so to speak. There had been a moment earlier when Silvia had said something quite funny, but it had rolled right over Motilda as if she had not understood a word of it.

  Zander had been informed through the sapphire necklaces that they were coming to see him and was waiting when they arrived. Silvia and Motilda went inside with him while the others fed, watered, and unhooked the horses from the cart.

  Motilda told Zander the story of Urich in great detail, not realizing that he already knew of it, and described herself as feeling exhausted and sick.

  “May I give you an examination?” he asked her. “I am no great healer but perhaps I may be able to help a little bit.”

  Silvia noted his modesty, for he had healed the stab wounds her shoulder and Quentin’s shoulder well.

  With a touch of reluctance, Motilda nodded. Zander shut all the doors and windows then told her to lift up her dress as she lay on a bed. Silvia stayed with her so that she would feel more comfortable. He examined her womanhood with caution and tenderness, telling her what he was doing, what he was seeing, and that she would have to go to sleep so he could fix her up.

  “Do not be frightened,” he told her. “I will use magic so you will feel no pain.” He placed the palm of his hand on her temple and said, “Mutaru linth cozam jenhunis.”

  “Go be with your happiness,” Silvia whispered as Motilda immediately closed her eyes and entered a deep sleep.

  Zander turned to her sharply. “How do you know Kieluna? It is the language of magic!”

  Quentin had gone for a short walk through the woods, wanting some time to himself. Frero sat beside Keelan, who was human again, on the grass. “It bothers you that Gregorich sent her the roses even more than the fact that the roses were enchanted.”

  Keelan nodded, but didn’t speak. He didn’t trust his voice.

  “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

  “Because I am no fool,” Keelan said glumly. “She is a queen. I am nothing. It is as simple as that.” He plucked a blade of grass and started knotting it. “I dreamed of her last night. I dreamt that I killed a man over her…then asked her if she was taken. I woke up without hearing her answer me.”

  “You are falling in love,” Frero said solemnly.

  “I’ve already fallen, and with the wrong person.”

  Frero took the blade of grass from the young man’s hands. “I really don’t think so,” he said. “When you first get the chance, or the nerve, ask her adopted mother for her hand in marriage.”

  “That woman would never let me wed Silvia. And what if I get her hand and she never loves me?’

  The old man sighed. “Do you know what I think? I think that she has not shown showers of affection on you because she is afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?” asked Keelan. “I do not bite!”

  “Maybe she’s scared of you putting your life on the line for her. You are the type.”

  “I would do that in a heart’s beat.”

  Frero went on. “Point proven, my lad. She might be afraid of feeling for you because if Gregorich learns her true identity, he will kill every one of us. But perhaps she is scared to love again because she believes she might be rejected?”

  Keelan’s voice became full of despair. “I would die for her Frero! How could I reject her in any way?”

  Frero eyed him closely. “When we first met you told me Silvia’s story as well as your own. Quentin revealed that he had made Silvia’s last lover betray her before he murdered him. It is only too possible that she believes you might betray her in some way.”

  “Well how can I prove that I would remain loyal to her until the end of time?”

  “Tell her how you feel, and when the time is right, bathe her in your love.”

  Silvia’s eyes nearly came out of her pretty face. “My father taught Dessica, and she taught me the language. I never knew it was a magic language.” How was it possible that she had known a magic language all these years, but had not been aware of it?

  Zander gaped at her. “Wait, if your father knew it...this could mean something big. Did you learn it quickly?”

  Silvia pondered a moment. “Come to think of it, I always found that it came naturally. I just don’t use it very much anymore.” She had thought that Dessica would find it too childish for a girl her age.

  The old man was becoming visibly excited. “Do you know what this means?” he said. “You were most likely born with the knowledge of magic because it runs in your family!”

  “That is not possible,” Silvia said in disbelief. “My parents would never have given up their throne if they had k
nown any wizardry! And of course I don’t know a bit and certainly have never used any except for these necklaces. Wouldn’t I have known by now if I knew a language of magic?”

  “Your parents may have restricted their use of magic when they took the throne—most kings and queens who possess such skills try to forgo using any when they take the throne because citizens do not wish to think they’ve been manipulated by magic in any way. It is also all too possible, milady, that you were only taught the words and not what they could do. When you speak this language it is as though all of nature is listening to you. You are talking magic! Why, even the trees will obey you if only you would give the right orders! Let me tutor you in the art of magic Silvia. Let me be your teacher in the ways of good magic.”