Rise of the Dragon Queen

by Sherri Beth Mitchell

  When their lips parted, Silvia whispered, “Darling, just do what feels right and you’ll teach yourself.” She untied her robe and it slid to the floor in a pile. Then she slid his off and moved against him, feeling his hardness on her skin. He picked her up and laid her on the bed, kissing and caressing her all over. When she moaned beneath his touches, he nearly went mad with passion. She grabbed his face and pulled him closer. “Now…please.”

  Two and a half dozen seamstresses had worked all night with four artisans to make new tunics for the Royal Guards. Not all were done; only half were completely finished. Silvia inspected several of the Guards in their new attire. She believed they looked splendid on the men. The purple dragons on the light blue skies were beautiful and, to her surprise appeared almost exactly like the image of herself when she was in dragon form.

  George smiled with sincerity at the Queen as she stopped in front of him in the throne room where the Guard was lined up. “What do you think, milady?” he asked. “Pure silk linings and marvelously done in such short time. It was a very lucky thing that blue silk is an easily obtained commodity in the city.”

  “They were well-tailored indeed,” she agreed.

  “Just wait until you see yours.”

  “Mine?”

  The Commander of the Guard walked off and went into a small antechamber, bringing back two large packages wrapped in brown paper. “One for you, Your Majesty, and the other is for His Highness. Yours is on the top.”

  He held the King’s as the Queen opened hers. It was a gorgeous copy of the Guards’ design, only it was a magnificent cloak of crushed velvet that clasped at the throat with an amethyst and silver dragon. George helped her to put it on, then stepped back to admire her.

  “Oh, I love it! I simply adore it!” she exclaimed, holding up the sides.

  “I nearly forgot—the seamstresses are currently making another one for you and your King, only those will have sewn in gloves.”

  “I’m sorry…sewn in gloves?” she said.

  “Yes. When your hands are in the gloves and you lift your arm, you also lift that side of your cloak. It makes you look much more grand,” he added.

  “Wonderful, George. If you see the seamstresses before I go to pay them, tell them that their work is spectacular.”

  “Very well, Your Highness, although I doubt they will accept any payment; they consider these as gifts to you. It is nothing short of a great honor to be making something so beautiful for Madeline’s daughter.”

  “Alright, but only if they insist. Now, I want you and your men to be outside and on the ready. Rohedon is to come sometime today and I want to be prepared. If you should see anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, come and find me. Understand?”

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  Keelan thought his cloak very fine and he donned it with pride to match his queen.

  “You look like a King of Kings, my sweet,” Silvia said.

  “I never thought in all my life this would ever happen to me or anyone I know. Just look at me now.” He shook his head.

  Silvia knew exactly what he meant. “Are you disappointed that it has?”

  Keelan thought for a moment. “No. When I first told you who you were weeks ago I couldn’t help but to think of how lucky the man would be that you chose to be your King. I never imagined in a lifetime that it would be me. Through all these years I’ve kept an eye on your person and I have become very fond of you.” He took her into his arms.

  “I wish I had known you long before we actually met…and I wish I had never met Venicius and given my body to him. If I had known all that was to happen I would have saved myself for you.”

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty,” said Hans from the open doorway. He politely pretended he had only just entered. “There are some people who wish an audience with both of you.”

  “Who?” said the Queen.

  “A husband and wife by the names of Vera and Cornelius.”

  “Oh! Your parents, Keelan! How wonderful!” Silvia said.

  By the time Keelan and Silvia made it to the courtyard, Vera and Cornelius were already eating thick ham sandwiches with eggplant soup. Everyone hugged and the older couple made it a point to bow before their son and his wife.

  His mother kissed Silvia’s hand with reverence. “It is so good to see you again, my Lady. I am happy to find you are in your rightful place. Your parents would have been proud.”

  “Thank you,” Silvia replied. “You are too kind. And thank you for helping them all those years ago. It was not an easy task, I know.”

  “And our youngest son—a King!” proclaimed Cornelius. “Whoever would have thought? Now tell us what has happened to our Quentin. Is he well?”

  “Quentin is our most loyal subject,” Keelan told them, his pride in his older sibling resounding in his voice. “George has accepted him as a special faction of the Royal Guard. I would say that he is around here somewhere.” He took up his sapphire (which all of them still wore) and called for Quentin to come to the courtyard.

  His brother appeared minutes later and embraced his mother and father warmly. “Can you believe it Pappy? We got her onto the throne, safe and sound.”

  “I’m proud of you son,” Cornelius said. “But now that you are finally back in our lives, please don’t wander off! We want you to visit often so that we can get to know one another again.”

  “I will dine with you several times a week,” replied Quentin, “and not complain about Mother’s cooking one bit!”

  “Oh, you hush! I’m not that bad,” Vera tried to defend herself against their laughter, but ended up joining in.

  They finished lunch and talked of many things past and present. Everyone was happy, or at least seemed to be. However at some point during their conversations Keelan, Quentin, and Silvia all began to feel strange. Nervousness enveloped them from out of nowhere. Silvia started to feel a sense of dread and Quentin was sweating profusely.

  But Keelan, who had glimpsed images and feelings in the minds of the others the day before was now having very unusual thoughts in his mind, and he had an idea of where they were coming from. Images of people dying, and mad laughter filled his head until finally he couldn’t take it anymore. “Is anyone else feeling strange?” he asked, rubbing his temple.

  “Yes,” Quentin and Silvia answered.

  “Silvia, my dear, I think he’s close,” said Keelan.

  “Who is close?” Vera asked. “Is something wrong.”

  “It might be best if you were not outside,” Keelan said. “Go into the palace where you will be safe.”

  His parents left in a hurry, throwing confused looks over their shoulders.

  “How close?” said Quentin. “Can you see his thoughts like you did with ours yesterday?”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t really know whose thoughts I’m seeing, and everything has faded drastically as compared to yesterday. The skill, I believe, was only a temporary side effect of the magic.”

  Silvia took charge of the situation, not taking any chances. “Call the city to arms!” she yelled to the nearest Guard. “Call the city to arms at once! The enemy is near! All Guards to their posts! Everyone prepare!”

  Guards immediately started running all around them. Eight were posted on the top of each of the three towers; these were the best archers they had. More Guards took to the streets of the city, spreading word to the Lystians. The Trillion Bell did not ring, though, for they didn’t want Rohedon to know they were prepared for his arrival. Soon most of the people in the city were in the streets and armed to the teeth. Old women and children had been hidden in cellars or secret rooms in minutes. The palace was shut down and all doors and windows were locked. Three Guards stood outside the entrances to the palace as the rest of the Guards stationed themselves inside and around the palace.

  Silvia turned to Keelan. “I’m going to the top of the tower. I’ll return in a few moments if I can.”

  He nodded. “Be careful, my love.”

&
nbsp; “I will.” She transformed into the dragon and flew up to the top of one of the towers, surprising the archers. She peered out over the land with her dragon’s eyes, but could not discern anything unusual. She changed back into herself and told the Guards to be as quiet as possible. She turned to face the direction of the stables and the surrounding pastures. The horses were antsy and the cows were all lying down as if expecting a storm. She sighed and closed her eyes, ignoring her rapid heartbeat. “Niehuda,” she whispered.

  The wind rose and swirled around her body, but she was the only one who heard the voice of the trees clearly. “Yes?”

  “Neihuda, levun ra tol syeras puchat jef vosce benou.” Trees, tell me of unusual things that you see.

  The breeze stirred and moved in the other direction around her. “Strange number of familiars.”

  Silvia’s brow furrowed. Familiars? What did the trees mean by that? But before she could speak again the trees sent a warning.

  “Enemies against you are coming in the shape of familiars. Evil intentions abound their hearts…They are prepared to kill or be killed…Beware.”

  Silvia was scared and frustrated. The enemy was coming in the shape of familiars? What were those?

  George had climbed to the top of one of the towers to see what could be seen and he had been there only a minute when he spotted something on the horizon. He wasn’t sure, but he thought it was a large flock of birds. He ignored them, for that part of the land was heavily forested. He saw nothing but livestock on the ground—no moving army or even a lone human did he see. When he next looked again towards the thick forests to the northwest he saw that the flock of birds was still flying…straight towards the palace. And it seemed that they were flying in the shape of a large circle. He thought this strange enough to report to the Queen on the other tower.

  All of the archers were ready. Piles and piles of arrows had been carried up by servants and deposited on the roof of each tower. Guards in the city had been notified and so had the Lystians. Everyone who had a bow or crossbow had gathered their arrows and took to the highest roofs around the city. Tiny bowls of snake venom were set next to each loosely tied bundle of arrows; the tips were dipped in the venom while the archers put on thin leather gloves to protect themselves and to hold the bows better.

  Keelan commanded the courtyard while Silvia, Dalton, and Grant (the latter two equipped with bows as well as swords) went to command each tower. They were waiting for the birds, when Silvia realized were the familiars the trees had warned of. What other animal knew the trees better than the birds?

  “Tell me when they are close enough to shoot,” she said to the Guards.

  “About a couple more minutes, milady,” one of them said.

  She watched the birds fly closer and closer and could hear them squawking. She cursed herself for not being more ready as she tried to compare the number of birds to the number of arrows.

  Nearer.

  Her palms were sweating and she felt panic creeping in. She concentrated on trying to breathe deeply to calm down, but her breaths were short and shaky. What in the gods’ names was she thinking? She couldn’t fight a battle or go to war! She’d most likely lead them all to their deaths. What would she do if they failed? What if Rohedon had some sort of massive army hidden nearby? Why was he attacking in the first place? Surely the man could not know already that his son was deceased. Could he have been planning some sort of an attack on his unknowing child? Perhaps his influence here was not what he wanted it to be and he wanted to change that. Had he come all the way here to take over Lystia? She wondered at how had he gotten here so fast. Did he have a different way of traveling, or had he started on his journey a month ago? She supposed it didn’t really matter because the fact was that he was here.

  Closer.

  “Your Majesty, they are coming into range,” one archer said.

  “Good. Aim carefully, aim true. I want those birds falling dead out of the sky. For the love of Geldin, God of War, please do not miss. I do not believe we have possession of as many arrows as we need…Start shooting,” she ordered.

  The archers raised their bows and squinted their eyes as they sighted targets. They released at the same time, the arrows singing sweetly through the air. Eight birds fell screeching to their death. The archers on the other towers let loose their arrows in sync and so there began a constant stream of well-aimed arrows, off to deliver death.

  However, the birds kept coming, and it seemed there were thousands of them. More and more arrows were brought to the towers from the palace’s cache of weaponry. They flew to the sky in graceful, deadly arcs from the city as well, where citizens were scrambling for more bows and arrows. The birds came ever closer, no matter how many fell, reforming the circle every few seconds as some of them dropped to an untimely end. Everyone could now see that they were very large ravens, their black forms shadowing their fallen on the ground. And just one look at the dead ones on the ground told why the ravens were so big: Every time one was shot down, Silvia saw it change into human form as it fell.

  “Milady! Milady!” Maura came huffing and puffing to the roof.

  “What is it?” Silvia asked breathlessly, her eyes on the sky.

  “We are running out of arrows!”

  “What? Already?” This couldn’t be! She and Maura both ducked as the birds flew over for the first time, several of them pecking at the archers as they passed. “How many do we have?”

  “About four hundred more,” her maidservant panted.

  Silvia groaned inwardly, and then grasped her stone. “Keelan, Quentin, give orders to some of the servants to collect arrows from the dead ravens outside the palace walls! Tell them to arm themselves in case some of them survived the fall. Don’t forget that the arrows have poisoned tips!”

  This was done, and as the last of the arrow supply was used up ten minutes later, servants began bringing in the used arrows and recoating the tips with more poison. Some of the shafts were about to break and some had only the sharpened wooden tip instead of an arrowhead. The majority of these missed their targets.

  Keelan had men working to make more, but the work was infinitely slower than what they needed, even with many shafts already made and slotted for the tips. He soon began to help them after watching what they did, and Quentin joined in. Zander, who had arrived just before the palace was shut down with Geremy and Dessica, poisoned the arrowheads before they were taken to the towers. Geremy was out fetching more arrows and Maura, Dessica, and Frero were the ones delivering them to the archers.

  The situation improved, and then began to go downhill. Piles of arrows were stacked at each archer’s feet, but the men were tiring. Their arms were trembling with exhaustion and sweat was running freely down their faces. The sun beat down on them with no mercy, burning their eyes.

  Not enough practice for the endurance of those muscles, Silvia thought miserably. She knew they would need help, and soon. So the next time Maura brought up supplies, Silvia whispered in her ear, and then talked to the men around her. The arrows stopped whistling from the towers. The ravens had circled about and passed over once again. After they had gone by, Silvia took to the air quietly behind them, her heavy body just feet out of their reach and her large shadow flying over the ground. Taking a deep breath she waited, feeling the burn within the core of her gigantic stomach. Just as the birds were getting ready to turn, she let out her breath, expelling the fire within and turning her head quickly from side to side.

  Nearly a hundred ravens fell, burnt to a crisp.

  Before the others could turn, Silvia swooped beneath the mass of feathers and then came up before them. She whirled around, a steady stream of fiery death spewing from her jaws. The fire hit the ravens head on, cooking twice as many, for they could not turn away fast enough.

  Within minutes the ravens were annihilated and Silvia alighted, out of breath, in the courtyard. People were cheering her and shouting victory, but she told them to be quiet and keep their eyes open fo
r any more trouble. She explained that nothing proved Lord Rohedon was among the dead. She had not seen one bird that stood out more than any other, and a man like Rohedon was sure to be noticeable. Maura brought her a cup of water as she rested. She was satisfied for there had been no skirmish, and none of her men had died. She tried to relish the moment, but was too worried about what other things could happen. How many more were there? She sat on a bench, drinking her water and closed her eyes…then the wind started to blow.

  “They are coming,” the trees were screaming to her. “The evil one you seek is among them!”

  “Wasu ni opsya?” Silvia asked. She jumped to her feet. Land or air?

  “Land,” the trees answered. “They do not yet know the familiars are destroyed, and they whisper of taking over the city. They say it would expand their realm so that none would dare to challenge them. They are prepared to take the throne by force from the evil one’s son, should they need to. He knows not of his son’s demise…There are strange creatures among them.”