Of Gods and Dragons

by Sherri Beth Mitchell

  “Dark magic does strange things.”

  “Indeed it does.” He looked at Keelan hard. “Why were milady’s hands bleeding like they were?”

  “We were asleep. The God of Dreams came to us and said Silvia must save us. She paid the price of her own blood to keep death away from us all. The magic in her blood drew the water to her.” He looked down and away. “She could have drowned…or worse.”

  Grant moved to stand in front of Keelan. “What do you mean by that?”

  Keelan made himself looking into Grant’s face. “There was something there in the dream…a horrid beast on the other side of the river. It was watching Silvia, stalking back and forth as though waiting for an opportunity to strike. I know not what that beast was, but it was evil. And it wanted my wife.”

  Both men looked back at the tent they had just exited.

  “Well then, it’ll have a time getting through us first. We’ll make sure of that.”

  “Milady, you do too much for your people. You need to look after yourself better.”

  The maidservant cleansed her hands with a clean, damp cloth. Years of caring for others and tending to wounds had given her skills a certain quickness that Silvia appreciated.

  “My Queen, are you all right?” Quentin had stuck his head in the tent.

  “I will be just fine.” She glanced at Hans. “We leave at first light. Quadruple the sentry for the remainder of the night. Quentin, help secure the perimeter. I don’t want to take a chance that they’re still out there.”

  “As you wish, milady,” Hans mumbled, and exited the tent with Quentin.

  Maura had ignored the men completely, and waited until they had gone before she spoke again. “Mistress Silvia, what happened? How did you do this to your hands? And why is everyone running about like madmen?” Fear shone in her eyes as she turned them upon her charge.

  The young woman briefly relayed the all-too vivid dream. She almost left out the part about the Hound of Death, but ended up telling her of it anyway. She did, however, leave out a full description of the creature. The poor woman was worried and frightened enough.

  Indeed, Maura’s eyes grew wider. “The gods surely favor you if they come to you in your dreams. They have saved us this night. We owe them much honor for this.”

  “That beast, however, is another story.” Lord Cambry closed the flap of the tent behind him as he entered, stooping low so he wouldn’t hit his head on the ceiling of the tent. The man seemed like a giant in the enclosed space.

  “Must I cast a spell for eavesdropping about my tent?” Silvia scowled, but her anger ebbed quickly.

  He bowed his head low. “My apologies, Your Highness. I merely overheard as I was getting ready to ask permission to enter…which I have still not done.” He raised his face, which was colored at his lack of courtesy to royalty.

  “Be still and worry not about it at this time. Other things are more pressing.”

  “Such as this creature you spoke of?” he inquired.

  “Milady, I need to attend a few things,” Maura said softly. She eyed the tall, tanned man suspiciously.

  “That’s alright, Maura. Do what you need to do.”

  The maidservant left quietly, with a last stern look at Cambry on her way out.

  “May I?” he asked, gesturing at the floor.

  “By all means.”

  He seated himself across from her and looked at her expectantly.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Is this how you start most conversations with queens?”

  He smiled. “You could say I’m socially inept.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Is there something you wish to speak with me about, Lord Cambry?”

  “Indeed, milady. I would hear of this beast in your dreams, if you will speak of it.”

  Silvia frowned. “Why do you wish to know of it? It is of no concern.”

  The man’s expression turned somber. “Queen Silvia, a god appearing in your dream is no small matter. You must be a very important young woman to be so fortunate. And in such a dream where a god appears, one must take into consideration that every little thing in the dream is of some significance. If there is a beast in your dream, perhaps it means that you are being hunted.”

  She found a rough edge on the blanket on which she sat and worked it between her fingers as she thought. “I believe that I am being hunted,” she admitted quietly. “I am not sure of it, but…I have this feeling something stalks me just outside of where I can see it or sense it.”

  “You’ve seen this creature before, haven’t you?”

  “No,” she answered truthfully. “I have not. But I was told of it. Tis not a beast you would want following you about.”

  “My curiosity is at its breaking point. What sort of creature is it which stalks you? Describe it to me.”

  Her green eyes flicked over to him. “Must I really tell you what the Hound of the Underworld looks like?”

  He leaned back, his lower jaw going slack. “That is not possible…why would it be after you?”

  “If I knew the answer to that, I could perhaps find a way to be rid of him.”

  “No one knows how to kill the Hound, milady. Everyone who has tried has perished.”

  “There must be a way. I just need to think on it.”

  Cambry shook his head. “May the gods help us all if that thing is really after you. I will do all that I can to kill it, or at the least throw it off your trail. It is said the Hound of Death always gets its prey, and that it has no weaknesses.”

  “That is not true. It does have a weakness: its feet.”

  “You are pulling my leg, my Queen. This is no laughing matter.”

  “I am not jesting, dear sir. That is its weakness.”

  “And how did you come about this interesting and valuable information?”

  She shrugged. “A man told me.”

  “Who was he?”

  “His name is Geldin, though I did not know who he was until after he had disappeared.”

  “By the Dark Moon, you had a conversation with the God of War, and you didn’t even realize it?” Cambry said incredulously.

  Silvia was taken aback. “He didn’t tell me his name at the time! I did not know it was him, or I would have been more respectful.”

  The tall man laughed and ran his hand through the hair in his topknot. “I almost cannot believe this. You not only were saved by Goddess Aldoa from the brink of death, and had Firayis helping you in your dreams—you also took advice from Geldin himself! What luck you carry with you, my Queen. Not one, not two, but three gods helping you on your journey to defeat the Realm of Rohedon. Never before has the world seen this, and it may very well never be seen again. I will honor both you and the gods by tracking down and killing this beast.”

  “Then it is you who will need the luck now,” she said softly. “He will not be an easy kill.”

  Hans kept an eye on Prince Dalton. He had not forgotten the night at the Healing Spring where he’d overheard the young man talking to someone in a secretive manner. But the prince had not been acting suspicious whatsoever; Hans was beginning to think his old ears had played tricks on him. He approached Dalton and cleared his throat for attention.

  Dalton looked up. “Yes, Hans? Is something the matter?”

  “No, my lord. Everything is fine. I merely wanted to ask what you make of all this strangeness this night.”

  The prince snorted loudly, waving his hand through the air towards some far away mark. “Blame those blasted witches. There’s nothing else with magic so dark except the God of the Dead himself.”

  Hans nodded in agreement. Then he looked at the Prince and asked him candidly, “Have you any thoughts on how to beat those creatures?”

  Dalton thought of the dragon symbol now branded upon him and smiled grimly. “I’ll come up with some ideas.”

  “And will your ideas keep my dear Silvia alive through all of this?”

  Dalton’s smile vanished and his face darkened consider
ably. He took a step towards Hans, who took a step back. “She will stay alive by all means, no matter what anyone else says or does. I will make sure of it personally.”

  “You care for her.”

  The Prince looked off towards the Queen’s tent. “You could say that I do.”

  This time it was Hans who took a step forward. “If you care for her, then keep nothing from her. No secrets, no lies. As the protector of her people she deserves nothing less than the truth.”

  Dalton stared at Hans as the older man turned and walked away with a purpose.

  Her hands shook badly, still throbbing with magic and blood loss. She was frightened…more so than she wanted to admit. No doubt this was the dark magic of the witches of Rohedon. Angrily, she kicked a cooking pot across the floor of her tent.

  Maura poked her head in the tent. “Are you all right, my Queen?”

  Silvia threw her hands up in the air. “I’m a world away from my home. I’m leading an army that is unprepared to war. We were attacked in the night by those damn witches. I appear to be perfect, Maura.”

  The plump maidservant planted her hands firmly on her hips. “Just because things aren’t going as expected for you does not give you cause to treat others unkindly. Quit feeling sorry for yourself. You’re a queen now, not a little girl running around on her mother’s estate. Times have changed, milady. We must come to expect the unexpected and keep going. I’ll hear no more nonsense from you. Be the queen that I know you are.”

  She left the tent as abruptly as she had entered, leaving Silvia with a dash of shame still reddening her lovely face. She quickly busied herself packing her things tightly into rolls and placing them in her trunk.

  “Do not be angry with your servant woman,” said a soft voice.

  Silvia looked up in surprise, for she knew no one had entered her tent. Aldoa stood next to a small folding table, hands folded in front of her. The goddess looked at her patiently as she bowed.

  “I am not angry with her. I am angry with myself. She made her points and they were valid.”

  Aldoa watched her moving about. “Stand still child and speak with me.”

  The Queen stopped what she was doing, tossing a dividing riding skirt into the trunk beside her. “What is it you wish to speak of, Goddess?” she said sullenly.

  “You fear the Hound of Death. You need not fear him. It will only push him harder to hunt you.”

  “That is not a comforting thought in the least, milady.”

  “It should be. You are stronger than the Hound. You are smarter than he is, and just as clever as his master, the God of the Dead.”

  “I have my doubts that what you say is true. I cannot compete with the wiles of a god.”

  Aldoa frowned. “Dare you question my words, child? Who are you to doubt them? Eerich is my brother, and I know him well enough. You are a good match against him and I am certain he realizes this by now. But he will keep trying to send his Hound for you. You cannot continue to be scared—only prepared to kill it.”

  “How does one kill a monster? A beast whose skin is made from the souls of those it’s taken to the Under Realm, and whose many eyes are always watchful?” She gave an involuntary shudder.

  “Every creature—be it human, animal, or god—has weaknesses. You have to search them out. No one said it would be easy. Yet you already have someone who has offered to kill the Hound.”

  “No one knows if he will succeed,” Silvia pointed out.

  “And no one knows that he will fail,” Aldoa stated blandly. “You must keep faith, Silvia. One who is destined for great things cannot be overcome by obstacles of any size.”

  Silvia nodded. “Okay…so what do I need to do?”

  The goddess arched a silver eyebrow. “Keep Lord Cambry alive at all costs.”

  Chapter Nineteen: The Gods Will Walk

  A chilly breeze had sprung up outside. The Queen rubbed her forearms to rid herself of the goose bumps. She started walking towards Rituel; he perked up and began stamping his hoof on the ground as she approached.

  “Hey ol’ boy,” she said. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

  A man from her army quickly sidled over and began rubbing the horse down with a brush. Silvia waited until he was finished, then grabbed the blanket to throw over Rituel’s back. She saddled him and rubbed his nose again. Then she climbed atop of him and thanked the gentleman for brushing the horse down. Pulling the reins to the left she guided Rituel through the camp.

  Everyone was up and nearly packed, and it was very busy. Fires were being doused in the pale dawn’s light and those with tents were dismantling them. She guided Rituel through the throng of the army carefully. Although camp was nearly packed up, there was a quietness about it that said the soldiers were wary and watchful. Good. They needed to be, and so would she.

  “My Queen!” called a voice.

  Vyto came jogging up to her horse, clad in brown leather breaches and throwing a stained white tunic on over his broad, bare chest. Silvia had a passing thought of putting this general and his troop at the front of the army: a man of his size would look formidable to the enemy, and he was a very observant and careful man. An asset to the army in all ways, it would seem.

  “Yes, Vyto?”

  “Did she speak to you?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied. “Did someone need to see me?”

  “Yes. I saw her in my dream and she was trying to find your tent to have a word with you. She was an older woman…she looked like the goddess that protected the Healing Spring.”

  Silvia nodded. “She spoke with me, yes.”

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” he asked. “She left her Healing Spring to come and help you…to help us all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She is traveling with our army to help fight Rohedon’s witches. This is the first time she’s left her home in centuries, milady. That’s kind of a big thing.”

  A chill fought its way up her spine. She hadn’t even thought about the goddess’ appearance meaning that she had left her oasis on the mountain. With a goddess on their side, surely their chances of defeating the evil would be greater. “That is good news, Vyto.”

  He nodded his head excitedly. “So, did she help with whatever happened in the night? We woke up and the water was high over our heads, ready to crash down upon us. If it had, this whole section of the army would have been wiped out…your Highness included.” He became serious.

  Silvia had not thought how the water would’ve drown a great portion of her army. “Yes, I suppose it would have had a much more tragic outcome without the help of the gods. We must all be thankful and send them praise.”

  “Indeed we shall,” Vyto said. “I am thankful nothing bad happened to you, milady. The men and women here…we need you.”

  Silvia smiled wanly. “So have your dreams told you anything else?”

  His face changed ever so slightly. He had seen many, many things but had not finished processing all of them. Sometimes things never came to be and there was no use in worrying over such things. The problem was…he couldn’t tell which of his visions were to come true and which could be prevented. Should he worry the new queen and make himself look like an imbecile if the visions didn’t come to be? The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

  “Nothing of great importance, Queen Silvia. But you shall be the first to know if there is something that could be of use inside this ol’ noggin of mine.”

  “Very well then.” She could tell he was not speaking the truth in its entirety, but she didn’t call him out on it. Other things were on her mind. “Have you seen Sir Grant of Crider about? I must speak with him.”

  “Last I saw he was heading towards the south side of camp, milady.”

  She tapped her heels against Rituel’s sides and urged him forward. It was still pretty dark, and so it took a little while to find the man she was seeking. Grant was in deep conversation with Gen
eral George when she approached. He took the time to bow to her before continuing what he was saying.