Raith nodded. “Yes, and pardon me for remarking, but it seems that someone else has already figured that out, Great Magus.”
Now there was a good point, but there was no way Matt could give this guy what he didn’t have – knowledge of how the gate worked. It wasn’t really his decision to make anyway, but that of the real Soliander, despite his apparent disappearance and abandonment of the gate and any other concerns. Fortunately Matt had a better point. “And you see how much trouble this person has caused?”
Raith bowed his head. “You are wise beyond me. Perhaps you could merely show me how to activate it, not deactivate it.”
Matt conceded that was another good point, except it was possible the same thing turned it off and on. “That is possible, but I’ll make that determination after the quest, not before.”
“You are too kind. Perhaps if you saw me in action yourself, you’d entrust me with this task more readily?”
Matt shook his head inwardly. This guy didn’t give up easily, but Matt was resourceful, too. Changing the subject without seeming to, he asked, “Maybe. Why don’t you tell me about your schooling? How did you become a wizard?”
Raith looked flattered by Soliander’s genuine interest and soon became engrossed in relating his experience, which Matt helped with a barrage of questions to keep him distracted. A life as a wizard’s apprentice or formal schooling sounded fascinating. Raith had been on his own a few years now, and it became clear he wanted to learn from Soliander, but Matt was having none of that. He skillfully avoided questions to the point of rudeness, but with such a deferential admirer, it was easy. He forgot to keep an eye on his friends, but he wasn’t the only one getting distracted.
Awash in perfume, caresses, and flirtatious looks on the stone dance floor, Ryan felt the effects of so much feminine attention on him. Normally it didn’t work, but the sheer volume of young women vying for him was unusual. The subjects they raised didn’t help, like how much land their fathers owned as dowry, or what title he’d assume upon marriage, or their family’s proximity to the throne. While they clearly wanted a husband and perhaps a trophy one at that, their looks promised no shortage of bedroom frolicking. These weren’t just girls, either, but full-bodied women, all dressed to kill.
The only sobering aspect was that it wasn’t really him they wanted, but Korrin, the Pride of Andor, and that his courage in battle was the reason for his desirability. It was the single greatest difference between them, and why these women found a violent man so attractive mystified him. They must surely be romanticizing the whole hero idea and ignoring the bloody truth they never saw. He was sure that the reality of a dead body would’ve taken the romance out of their looks in an instant. It had surely done so for him. Every dance step became a bitter reminder that the man he’d killed would never take another step again.
The women took turns with him, casting looks of thinly veiled hostility toward each other, though one seemed rather unconcerned with any dagger-like glances thrown her way. She caused a hasty retreat in the one she replaced, and from the muscles bulging under her golden gown, she could apparently take care of herself. Her gaze was direct like that of a man, and she seemed powerful, dangerous, and sleek like her jet black hair. Rough calloused hands added to the sense of vigor, suggesting she was a swordswoman, and an agile one at that, for her dance movements were smooth and nimble.
“What’s your name?” Ryan asked, feeling a firm grip nearly crush his hand.
“Nola, the Fair Raven,” she replied, her dusky voice stirring him. Her mysterious dark eyes lent weight to her nickname.
“You are strong,” he appraised her, “and yet gentle.”
“As are you, Lord of Hearts,” she purred. “It is no wonder women throw themselves at you.”
“I’m a good catch,” he replied, but her blank look indicated the joke fell flat, so he moved on. “How did you develop such a physique?”
“Swinging swords at men who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Then I guess I had better be civil.”
“I’m sure my skill is nowhere near yours, Pride of Andor,” she reassured him, “so you needn’t worry. I would be grateful for the chance to cross swords with you, if only in jest, of course.” She pressed against him suggestively, her bosom pushing up more in her low-cut gown, but even that couldn’t take his mind from his conscience. The thought of pretend violence made him frown.
“I’m afraid time is short for swordplay,” he replied quietly, “as I leave first thing in the morning.”
Nola asked, “Are you headed straight to the castle?”
He paused before replying. “Yes,” he answered, having remembered the side trip to Arundell with Lorian was a secret. “I don’t know of anywhere else we’d want to go.”
“Aren’t you traveling with the elves?”
The accuracy of the question startled him. How did she know that? From her slight smirk, he suspected his expression, whatever it was, had answered for him, but he tried to lie anyway. “Uh, no,” Ryan said lamely. “Why would you think that?”
She smiled. “My mistake. I saw you dining with them. I guess a big strong man like you doesn’t need help from a bunch of scrawny elves to kill the dragon. You’re the Dragon Slayer after all.”
He looked down and away. Why did everyone have to remind him of the expectation to kill over and over? His thoughts strayed to Daniel back home, the loss of his smartphone and any way to use it a gnawing worry. He had to get back. He needed to quit dancing now and go blurt the truth out to Sonneri. Maybe Lorian was wrong and they could go home now anyway.
“Why the long face?” Nola asked quietly, breaking his thoughts. She seemed sympathetic and he realized he’d dropped his guard. “Does something trouble you, Korrin?”
Their eyes met and the kind look in hers disarmed him. He couldn’t really tell her the truth, but did he have to pretend he wasn’t upset? Did it matter? He shrugged noncommittally. “It’s nothing.”
She pressed against him more, as if offering herself as consolation. “If it dampens your spirit despite all these ladies pursuing you, then it must surely be something. Would you prefer to discuss it in private? I have a suite to myself here in the castle and you can unburden your noble heart to me.” Her hand stroked his hair tenderly and she laid a sweet kiss on his cheek. Sudden, turbulent emotion welled up with him, threatening his self-control.
“You’re very kind,” he started huskily, intending to regretfully decline, but she interrupted.
“I’ve only just begun to show you kindness, Korrin,” she replied gently, and with that she whispered sweet, compassionate words in his ear and leaned into him. It seemed that all his life he’d kept his torments to himself, for in those few moments when someone saw his angst, he’d kept quiet like so many men so often do. Culture demanded men deal with pain alone, but her embrace promised a release he increasingly felt unable to restrain. His guard fell. Even Anna, for all their friendship, hadn’t gotten past his defenses, but he felt himself falling into this stranger’s care. As the dance ended, she led him from the floor, past the guards and away, and he went readily if not eagerly.
Out on the dance floor, Eric struggled to keep his wits about him. Naughty thoughts raced through his mind every half second, in no small part because women put them there. Andier might be the Silver-Tongued Rogue, but now Eric was either tongue tied or it was hanging out of his mouth, figuratively speaking. It had been too long since he’d been with a woman and the desire they aroused was strong. It was all he could do to tear his eyes away to keep tabs on his friends, and this time he didn’t see Ryan. His eyes searched again, less discreetly, and finally he dropped all pretenses on realizing the big man was gone. He caught Matt’s gaze and moved his fingers behind his dance partner.
Did you see Ryan leave?
Matt put his wine glass down. No. He’s gone?
Yes. Eric figured Anna was too distracted to have noticed and Lorian was too embroiled in conversation. The guar
ds, he realized. They ought to have noticed.
He excused himself and sought one at the entrance. The young man snapped to attention. “Did Lord Korrin leave this way?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Eric hadn’t expected the title. Only Ryan had gotten that so far. “When?”
“Just a few minutes ago.”
“Where did he go?”
Looking apologetic, the guard answered, “He did not say, but he was headed toward the Blue Crest Wing.”
“Was he alone?”
“No, my Lord. He escorted Nola of Ormund, presumably to her, uh…” He faltered, looking pained.
“Her suite?” Eric finished.
The guard pursed his lips. “Yes, my lord.”
“Where is that?”
“I’m not sure, sir, but probably in the second level of the Blue Crest, directly down this hallway.” He gestured and Eric took off at a jog, worried and wondering what Ryan thought he was doing. It didn’t occur to him that he’d allowed himself to be separated from the group as well, but someone else in the Great Hall noticed.
Watching Eric leave, Cirion excused himself from a different young lady who’d just been flirting with Andier at his direction. Like all the others, she didn’t have anything interesting to relate about the rogue anyway, for Andier didn’t give much away, but distracting him had been the real goal. To his surprise, Eriana had been a harder mark than he would have believed. He’d had other reasons for talking with her, one being the chance to bed her despite her reputation for chastity. He had conquered unattainable women before, but she had proven her womanhood wasn’t the only thing she guarded well. He hadn’t learned a thing from her, and that was rare. A glance revealed Raith still had Soliander’s attention, and Nola had succeeded with Korrin where he had not, so if at first you don’t succeed….
He headed for Eriana, but as he closed in, a familiar figure intercepted him.
“Cirion,” began Lorian smoothly, offering a goblet of red wine. “I know your love of elven wines and have brought you a glass of our finest. You must try it.”
The dashing man looked at him first in annoyance, then impatience, feigned cordiality, and finally resignation. “You’re too kind,” he replied politely, taking the glass and casting a regretful glance at Eriana. Elves were famous for subtlety, but he saw the knowing smirk on the elf’s face and made a note to watch out for this one. How much did he know? He didn’t have long to wonder. From the corner of Cirion’s eye, he saw two elves moving quickly through the crowd, then take off running in the same direction Korrin and then Andier had gone. Cirion silently cursed and returned his gaze to Lorian, finding a look of barely hidden steel in the eyes.
Chapter 6 – Lorian
It wasn’t until he reached the door to Nola’s suite that Ryan realized he was lost. He hadn’t been paying attention, his mind a swirl of death and affection, blood and caresses, remorse and hope. Nola looked up at him suggestively as she aligned the gold key with the lock on her suite’s door and slipped it inside. Her lips brushed against his so that he hardly noticed being drawn into her scented room, an odd mixture of steel and roses in the air.
Suddenly two hands yanked him backwards, breaking contact with her so fast that it startled him. He blinked in surprise and turned to see a short figure with black hair glaring at him. A moment passed before he recognized Eric.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Eric snapped, pulling him further into the hall. “I must’ve called your name four times.”
Ryan heard himself mutter something even he didn’t comprehend.
“C’mon,” said Eric the rogue, “we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow and don’t have time for this.”
“But–”
“No buts. Let’s go.” Eric pulled him by the arm and Ryan followed, still off guard and confused. “Goodbye, my lady,” the rogue called to Nola. “He’s not the sort to call the next day anyway.”
As Eric led Ryan down the hall, two elves appeared out of the shadows ahead, looking alert until seeing them. They slowed, stopped, and became far more casual in demeanor. Ryan realized that not only had Eric come after him, but the elves, too, possibly at Lorian’s suggestion. Suddenly he remembered the pledge to stay together, but even now, he saw no harm in going with Nola. He sighed in frustration, which worsened when Eric spoke again.
“What did you think you were doing?” Eric asked. The elves waited until they passed before trailing along at a discreet distance.
Offended, Ryan replied irritably, “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Bug me about it tomorrow. I’m not in the mood.”
“But you were in the mood to get laid.”
Ryan shoved him away with one hand and kept walking. “Asshole. That’s not what this was about.”
“Well, what then?” Eric asked, following.
“I told you later. Just leave me the fuck alone.” He sped up to put distance between them, relieved that Eric seemed to let him go on ahead. He followed the noise toward the banquet hall and then wandered off toward their suite, fairly certain he could find it. Not until reaching the door and opening it did he look at his pursuers, seeing only the two elves. He sighed and closed the door, feeling lonely. Would they stand guard outside to keep other people out or him in? He didn’t think it mattered as long as he got to be alone – and no one snuck in to try killing him.
Once inside, Ryan struggled for some way to calm down, but the lack of modern entertainments like television or the internet left no room for distraction. He stood alone with his dark thoughts, eyes moving from silken pillows to ornate, mahogany furniture and rich rugs. The lavishness seemed somehow shallow and empty, matching his outfit style for style so that he tore at the tunic to get it off. He soon found himself on his bare knees beside his bed, head bowed, hands clasped before him, smoke from the snuffed out candles curling through the dark room. He hadn’t done this in a long time and didn’t question whether the God of his Earth could hear him here or not. It didn’t really matter, for the forgiveness he sought for killing someone had to come from within and he doubted that would happen anytime soon, if ever.
He wondered how Daniel was doing and if he’d ever see his brother again. In the strangeness of the arrival here, the attack, and the man he’d killed by accident, he’d hardly had time to wonder about Daniel. All these years of worrying about his brother and now it was his own life that might suddenly end. That was always true in a sense, but courting danger like this raised it to a whole new level. There was no easy way out of this. He went to bed and suffered through a restless night that left him tired in the morning, and the last to rise despite being the first to bed.
The next morning, Ryan entered the sitting room to find the others, dressed for the quest, talking quietly. From their glances and the sudden silence, he surmised the subject had been himself. His dark mood had lifted some, enough to pretend he was fine anyway. Trying to ward off any well-meaning remarks, he flashed an insincere smile.
“Does anyone know where I can get some coffee?” He scratched at his stubble, wondering what to shave with.
“I already asked,” Matt complained. “There isn’t any. They don’t even know what it is. This is going to be miserable.”
Anna chuckled, picking at some fruits. “You’ll get used to it. I have to admit I was hoping this was a dream when I got up.”
“Or a nightmare,” Ryan added quietly. “I wish I knew how Daniel was doing.”
Eric gestured to a ceramic bowl of water on a silver tray, a short blade for shaving next to it on green towels. “They dropped off this stuff earlier,” he said, sitting down. If he harbored any resentments about the night before, Ryan couldn’t tell and appreciated a lack of attitude. “We already used it, but you’ll want to warm up the water on the fire. It’s not the most sanitary thing, but I think we’re okay.”
Ryan took the bowl and left to shave, his thoughts on his problematic role of a knight. They would never return ho
me if they didn’t succeed, and the quest undoubtedly required all of them. Matt couldn’t cast spells, nor Anna heal anyone with magic, which left him and Eric. If he refused to fight, it was all on the martial artist. As impressive as Eric was, he wasn’t going to punch a dragon into submission. Ryan would have to help and be willing to use deadly force. Even if he didn’t, he’d still be condoning whatever Eric did if he just stood there and watched instead of stopping him. It was unlikely they could seal the Dragon Gate at all, with or without a fight.
He couldn’t do this. There had to be another way. If refusing meant living out his life on Honyn as a shamed coward, that was better than killing anyone else. He could live with that, but the others might share in his fate and he didn’t have the right to decide that for them. Maybe he could just quit and let them go without him. If this Lorian guy could bring enough elves with him, Ryan wouldn’t be needed. The idea brightened him. He’d talk to Lorian privately when he got the chance.
After a quick breakfast, they left the suite to see Lorian, following a guide through the castle halls. Matt walked more briskly than the others, his head full of questions about the summoning, wizardry, and anything related to magic. The elf was the one person he could ask about such things, since everyone else would expect him to already know. It wasn’t that he wanted to cast a spell – well, he did, but that seemed as improbable as anything else – but the talk with Raith the night before had filled him with ideas. Besides, he needed to know how to fool people or give plausible excuses that he wasn’t going to cast a spell when they expected him to. When they arrived, the elves wasted no time. Two let them through a door to Lorian’s suite. The elf promptly greeted them and got right down to business.
“It is not safe for us to speak of your true identities in this place,” he began, motioning them to sit on sofas embroidered with forest settings, “but my brethren have cleared the area of possible spies. We should have a few minutes, at least.”
“So they also know who we are?” Eric asked, walking around the room and peering through doorways. Matt looked at the balcony and see an elf there, his head scanning back and forth.
The Dragon Gate (The Dragon Gate Series Book 1) Page 6