The Dragon Prince

by Rex Jameson

  “Everyone’s dead,” Liritmear said absently. “All of my men. All gone.”

  “She killed one of his dragons,” Belegcam said. “One of the smaller green ones. It had burned Croft Keep, and she—” the elf looked at her timidly. “He came at us on the black one. We tried to hide in the town—”

  “Bowersby?” Jayden asked.

  Belegcam nodded. His head dropped in shame.

  “There’s rumor in Edinsbro that the town has been torched,” Jayden said in understanding. “So, I take it the orcs weren’t the ones who did it?”

  Belegcam shook his head.

  “If it had been orcs,” Liritmear said, “my battalion would still be alive, and my enemies would be the ones dead.”

  She hung her head in defeat.

  Jayden walked over to her, but she did not seem to notice his proximity until he was right in front of her. She almost jumped out of her skin when she realized he was within arm’s reach.

  “As a commander of thousands of fallen,” he said, “I embrace you in sorrow, as a deep friend of the Nomintaur.”

  He hugged her, and Liritmear’s eyes grew wide with terror. Her muscles stiffened at her sides, and she dropped her bow. She looked mortified. As the prince pulled away, her eyes locked on his.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Perhaps this is a custom best left in the underground cities.”

  “No,” she said. “I—”

  “The Captain means no offense,” Belegcam interrupted quickly and coolly. “We haven’t slept in days. We assaulted an orcish raiding party weeks ago and went straight to King Calenanna. He—”

  The elf stammered, as if remembering something embarrassing. Cassandra watched his cheeks redden at some memory, and she felt instant empathy for him—not that unfamiliar from her memory of the knight at the joust. She had an urge to run to him and hold him, that beautiful man. She looked away and found Ashton watching her through his eyepatch, grinning like a man watching theater.

  “Anyway,” Belegcam continued, “we gathered our men, tried to save Croft Keep, and we’ve been running ever since. The Captain…”

  He looked at Liritmear, who still seemed frozen—eyes wide. He continued automatically and distractedly through what Cassandra could tell was a formal interaction that was completely outside the elven warrior’s comfort zone. She had read books on both elven cultures. This greeting and expression of condolences was more the mark of the refined etiquette and statesmanship of the dark elves. Wood elves honored the dead with drinking and hunting and embracing the cycle of life and death in nature.

  “We all appreciate the support of the Etyrian Empire in these dark times,” Belegcam said stiffly. He approached the prince. “As a son of the Nomintaur, I embrace you in sorrow, as a deep friend of the Etyrian Empire. Our losses dwarf those that your mighty empire has endured over these many millennia.”

  The two elves held each other and patted each other on the backs. Liritmear rubbed her arms as she watched them, as if she were freezing.

  “Are you heading to Edinsbro also?” Ashton asked.

  Liritmear looked at him, finally shaking off her stupor.

  “Is that where you’re all going?” she asked.

  Cassandra nodded along with Ashton. The demon stared at them with folded arms and said nothing. Prince Jayden looked to the south, as if he might go there, but changed his mind. He nodded

  “Then yes,” Liritmear said simply.

  “Do you mind if we tag along?” Belegcam asked politely, eyeing the captain with irritation.

  “We could use the extra support,” Cassandra’s guard Alfred said as he eyed Ashton, producing a fresh round of inadequate feelings in Cassandra. “What with orcs and dragons around.”

  “Yeah,” Ashton said. “We are honored to have you with us.”

  The party stood there awkwardly until Ashton walked eastward. Frederick moved to his left-hand side, and her two resurrected guards followed shortly thereafter. Prince Jayden walked behind them, glancing frequently between the dark knight and the elven captain to his right. Liritmear seemed too mortified to return his looks, and Belegcam trudged onward at her side, only looking ahead. Cassandra and her two remaining guards—the ones who hadn’t been killed and resurrected—brought up the rear with her scholar Christian Somerset, who tussled with his satchel of books and scrolls.

  “Well, that went well,” the scholar said.

  “I feel like an idiot,” she said. “I’m a princess and the least important person in our company.”

  He chuckled and made a gesture with his bags. “I assure you that you are not!”

  “Small comfort,” she said, looking enviously at Liritmear, who had the attention of Jayden and she believed Belegcam too, and Ashton who had the attention of everyone else.

  “Then take comfort in what went well,” he said dryly.

  “And what’s that?”

  “I don’t know any other human that has come face-to-face with dark elves, wood elves, and necromancers and lived to tell the tale. For an unremarkable lady, you sure find yourself in remarkable company and times.”

  She sighed. “Perhaps I’ll make my way into one of your scrolls as the woman with the useless rods.”

  “I seem to remember a bawdy bard song or two on that subject,” he said suggestively. “Such women are famous for their own reasons!”

  She punched him in the arm, and he feigned more injury than she had inflicted. He laughed good-naturedly and she found herself chuckling soon with him. But still, the insults to her status were fresh in her mind, and she wouldn’t let them go that easily.

  Her mind turned the events of the day over and over again. She questioned every decision she had made and replayed the fight with Ashton, the discussion with Jayden, and the meeting with Liritmear and Belegcam again and again, trying to think of the perfect words to say that would have made her more interesting and useful. And so her brain continued to torment her all the way to Edinsbro.

  26

  Old Enemies, New Friends

  The remaining journey to Edinsbro was a quiet one, conversationally at least, but Ashton Jeraldson didn’t feel lonely. The Eye communicated with him constantly and indirectly showed him things about himself that he wasn’t aware of—like the amount of time he spent thinking about the princess. It showed him scenes of her in the library, studying mathematics and histories. Then visions of her father doting on her. Her mother scolding her. She hated washing her hair. She would rather stay up and read scrolls on underground cities.

  “Stop it,” he commanded.

  The Eye obeyed, in a way, by moving to others in the party. He watched Jayden dancing within a tall spire of a twisting dance hall, deep within the earth. There was a dark elven woman who moved with him so intimately that they seemed to be a single person at times. Years of practice. Jayden’s primary muse. Keshanae. Then Karnel and Vas. Thirteen women and men who had been praised amongst the elven poets. All dead.

  “Stop,” Ashton said.

  A lance came into view as a horse between his legs barreled down the list. The opposing rider was unseated, and the crowd roared in approval. He tasted blood in his mouth. A familiar, bearded face and then a fall through the darkness. The Abyss.

  “Stop please,” Ashton requested.

  A young, naked elven woman cried beside a lake. A dark-skinned man with white hair walked away from her. Orcs came into the forest, and she wasn’t there to stop them. No one stopped them. Then a trail of blood ran back to an orc town. The birth of Liritmear.

  The Eye switched targets without prompting. Belegcam watched from the treeline. He always watched, even at the lake.

  Another change. A young man joined the King’s Guard. Cousin Sandor knew a royal guard in the castle. Ran errands for Aethis. Became head of security for Princess Cassandra’s detail when she was only five. Been with her ever since. Immense pride when his son Tristan got invited to the castle to play with the princess. Heartache when Tristan was forbidden from the castle in
his ninth year. Queen didn’t think it proper. Son was never the same. Wandered around at night. Fell from a cliff into a quarry when he was eleven. Alfred had never told the princess. When she asked about Tristan, Alfred told her that his son was married and living in Nortown.

  “Stop it,” Ashton pled. “No more.”

  They had arrived in Edinsbro, a resort town at the foot of the Great Northern Mountains. He had never been there before, but he had heard about the blue waters and majestic mountain views. The stories weren’t exaggerated. The veins of Mount Chejit ran down to the harbor, and a few peaks of rock broke the surface of the center of the lake during low tide.

  “It’s beautiful,” Cassandra said.

  Ashton agreed, but he didn’t say anything. He thought about going down to the beach and taking a dip to wash away weeks of travel. The Eye showed him images of Cassandra walking into a fountain in the castle. She started to remove her clothes.

  “Stop it,” Ashton reminded the Eye absently.

  “Are you hungry?” Jayden asked her.

  “Famished,” Cassandra said.

  “I know a good restaurant,” he said. “Fresh fish and mussels. Open setting but up on stilts and private. You’ll love the breeze. Best view on the beach.”

  “I’m not sure there is a bad view in this town,” she said.

  “Every town has bad spots—even if every glimpse of it is beautiful,” Jayden said. “Bad people. Bad areas. This eatery wouldn’t be in one of them.”

  “I’m sure it’s a fine place,” A guard said with a chuckle before looking at the demon knight and the bloody wood elf. “But are you sure it’s the right place… for us?”

  Jayden laughed earnestly. “Perhaps we shouldn’t advertise our magical acumen. The Surdeli people practice superstition like it’s a sport!”

  They didn’t speak more of magic, undead, or demons. Alfred talked about the fields west of Nydale. Thomas talked about his home east of King’s Harbor. Ashton removed his eyepatch so he could enjoy the conversation without it being ruined by lies and facts he didn’t want to know.

  When they reached the restaurant on the water, he stood with Jayden at a railing overlooking Lake Coinen. Princess Cassandra and the scholar Christian talked with the proprietor about a table for eleven. Ashton didn’t mention that the eleventh spot in the party was for Mekadesh, who together with Frederick had played a large part in the murder of Cassandra’s father. He didn’t need the Eye to tell him that mentioning her again was asking for trouble.

  A dozen fishing boats trawled the center of the lake with nets. Children played with their mothers in the cool water near the shore. Everyone was dressed in simple garments, and the people seemed tanned and happy. Ashton had been to similar places near Alefast in the south but many years ago, before he had become a blacksmith apprentice.

  “Doesn’t seem real, does it?” Ashton asked. “With what’s going on in the west and south?”

  “It seems real,” Jayden said, leaning over the wooden beam to watch the serenity. “It just feels like a distraction—like we’re dodging our responsibilities. Who will ensure that these vacationers can live and laugh like this, if we do not go back into the flames?”

  Ashton agreed. He put the patch back on.

  “It suits you,” Jayden said, grinning wider than Ashton had ever seen him during their journey to the Sleeping Pony. The party seemed to bring the prince hope.

  Cassandra hailed them from the opening to the dining deck. “We’re good. They’re ready for us.”

  “For eleven people?” Jayden asked.

  “I may have mentioned that I’m a princess.”

  Ashton and Jayden chuckled.

  Their tables bordered a banister to a beach staircase that ran straight into the lake. At least half a dozen people gave them evil eyes on their way into the restaurant. The Eye showed him why—they had been removed from the establishment to make room for Cassandra’s party. The restaurant owner was a toned man named Danwen. He had a bushy blond beard, blue eyes, and a pleasant smile. He was exceedingly nice, even going so far as to pull out Cassandra’s chair, wait for her to sit, and push it back in.

  “Perhaps I should tell him that I’m a prince,” Jayden said to Ashton.

  The Eye showed Ashton glimpses of Danwen’s mind.

  “He knows,” Ashton said. “There are few dark elves that venture out of Uxmal. Everyone here knows you.”

  Jayden pulled up his own chair but faced it toward the lake. “The curse of fame. I fear you’ll lose your anonymity before long, too.”

  Cassandra’s guards piled their armor against the railing and stretched. Alfred and Thomas both leaned against the fence posts. They looked at Ashton briefly and nodded. From the Eye, he felt their gratitude, but he didn’t need its power when their emotions were expressed so prominently on their faces.

  The durun Frederick sat down in a corner and faced the town. He didn’t seem as interested in the lake view as the rest of the party.

  “Beautiful day,” Ashton said.

  “Indeed, it is,” a woman said from across his table.

  Blond hair. Blue eyes. Modest, white formal dress. Mekadesh.

  Ashton eyed the princess warily.

  “When did you get here?” Ashton asked.

  “Just now,” she said, smiling pleasantly. “I was waiting for your party to get a table.”

  “We haven’t ordered yet,” Jayden said gruffly.

  “This isn’t really the kind of place you order a dish,” she said. “They bring you whatever’s fresh. Baked or fried in batter on a pan. A mussel here, a trout there. A plate full of kelp.”

  “You’ve been here before?” Jayden asked in stiff conversation, refusing to look at her. “These people must be fortunate to still be alive.”

  She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, letting her white dress hang low and exposing her cleavage.

  “Are you really going to keep throwing Xhonia back into my face?” she asked. “You think I don’t regret that? It has been 500 years. It was an accident. I was beside myself with—”

  “Do not use me as a scapegoat for your atrocities,” he said gruffly. “The whole universe knows of what you did to the Creators…”

  She growled but appeared to disregard his barbs.

  “That you would deny yourself your true genius all this time,” she said, “That you would debase yourself to such unkept rags and—”

  He waved her off and looked toward the lake. “My profession is dead. My people are dead. You saw to that.”

  “There are a billion other places your kind could be right now,” she replied patiently, “places where you could be who you were meant to be. You are not meant to die as a common thug in a pointless fight. Your people are stubborn, and you are wasted here.”

  He grunted and stared into the distance.

  “You know I’m right…” she said.

  She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, as she sat on the open-backed pew. Cassandra glared at Mekadesh, undoubtedly remembering the last time they had seen each other in the throne room in Kingarth. Belegcam and the personal guard seemed like the only people who didn’t recognize the Holy One. Liritmear was down in the lake water, washing her face, chest and arms. Ashton chuckled as he watched her bathing in the water amongst the children and mortified ladies. Apparently, it wasn’t custom here in Edinsbro to strip down to your skin while cleaning your armor.

  Mekadesh looked to the wood elf and then back to the dark elven prince, who showed no interest in either of them.

  “Danwen!” Jayden called. “Any chance we can go ahead and get the food coming? Plates and platters for eleven.”

  “Right away!” the owner said happily.

  “Good idea,” Mekadesh said, nodding as she straightened her back to a proper position. “You’ll want to eat quickly. I’m not sure how long they’re going to let us stay here.”

  “We reserved enough seats,” Ashton said. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”


  “It’s not the party you have right now,” she replied. “It’s the party that hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “Who else are we expecting?” Cassandra asked coldly.

  Ashton could hear Cassandra playing with the metal rods under the table. They were inert, but perhaps Cassandra was thinking about beating the demon lord to death with them. The Eye offered to show him her intentions with red lines, but he refused to acknowledge them. He didn’t want to know.

  A ruckus came from somewhere in town. A crowd formed around some new arrivals. Ashton could hear threats and insults and also protestations from a familiar voice.

  “Cedric?” Ashton asked.

  “The paladin is here?” Jayden asked.

  They both turned to find two massive creatures stomping their way toward the restaurant. Easily seven-feet tall and each carrying a dark-plated knight over their shoulder. Ashton had never seen one before, but he recognized the orcs from stories. Their chests were bare, and one of them had a blood-red hand.

  They stomped onto the wooden walkway that led up to the restaurant and pushed aside screaming vacationers. The Eye fed Ashton almost nothing substantial about these bulky men—none of their history. They seemed to be simple creatures with almost no thoughts in their head. Every once in a while, they would fantasize about throwing one of the hecklers onto a fence post. The thoughts made the younger one especially excited, but then the idea would flutter away and his mind would be left with nothing but appreciation for the warmth and a sense of purpose—of moving toward something. Ashton caught a glimpse of a white light, emanating heat and parting the darkness. Then elves momentarily in a forest and orcs bounding across thick, tall grasses that tickled their knees.

  Ashton heard a war cry from the beach, but before he looked over, a half-naked woman had flung herself over the railing from the sand below. Other than two knives and a loin-cloth, she was just as the Creator had made her. Belegcam leapt from his seat at the table to cover her, but she pushed him aside and snarled.

  “For Cronos sake,” Jayden said to the wood elf and the orcs, “are you trying to get us thrown out of this restaurant, or are you working on getting us kicked out of this town?”