Dragon Flight

by Jessica Day George

  A rumbling laugh. “Precisely. How are they to know that the seeds aren’t part of an ancient legacy of my people?” Another rumble. “It will be a few months before we are settled, and the winter storms will make the flight across the ocean impossible. But in the spring, if you like, I might fetch you for a visit …” He gave me a wistful look.

  I threw my arms around his muzzle. “Oh, Shardas! I’d like nothing better!” Then I rooted around in the pockets of the light silk cloak I wore against the evening chill. “Here, I have a present for you. I sent a footman to the shop to fetch it during the banquet. ” I pulled out a packet wrapped in oilcloth. “A gift for your new home. ”

  “What is it?” He nuzzled it, snorting and sniffing.

  “A little something my brother, Hagen, sent me from Carlieff,” I said smugly. “Two dozen peach pits ready for planting. ”

  The sudden gust of laughter from the king of the dragons caused the chapel bells to clang once, loudly, and sent up a flock of disgruntled and sleepy pigeons.

  Epilogue by the Sea

  “Marta must be freezing,” I said out of the corner of my mouth. “No shoes in this weather?!”

  “And this is the mildest autumn in years,” Luka added, trying not to move his lips. “You should come here in the winter. ”

  “No, thank you,” I whispered, shivering despite my long fur cloak and fur-lined boots, worn with an embroidered velvet dress.

  Marta looked radiant in spite of the temperature, standing on the edge of the promontory in her blue-and-green Moralienin wedding gown. Her feet were bare, and almost purple with cold, but she never shivered. Tobin stood facing her beneath the stone arch that was the symbol of the Moralienin religion. I felt even sorrier for him: he was wearing leather pants and heavy boots, but his chest was bare beneath a harness ornamented with a variety of weapons. The tattoos on his scalp extended down his neck and on to his chest and back. It looked as though an entire clan of blue sea serpents were writhing about him.

  “Why are they shoeless and, er, shirtless?” I leaned closer to Luka, not wanting to distract Marta from the recital of her ancestry. She had told it to me at least half a dozen times, but since I had been busy trying to sew not one but two wedding gowns for her and finish Isla’s bridal tour wardrobe at the same time, I hadn’t given it my full attention.

  “The bride says that she comes to her new life with nothing but the gown she made herself –”

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  I interrupted Luka’s lesson to snort at this. Despite her intention to do things just right for her wedding, Marta had started to panic a few weeks ago. She had begged my help on the Moralienin gown, throwing centuries of tradition out of the window. I wondered how many other brides had done the same, over the years. Probably quite a few.

  “The gown she made herself,” he repeated with amusement, “and the bread that she baked as a gift for her new husband’s family. ”

  “Please tell me they won’t actually eat it,” I said, nodding towards the ceremonial loaf in its white linen cloth that Marta held. In Feravel, brides held flowers. Seeing my friend hold her bridal loaf was rather odd. “Marta is a terrible cook, and I swear she added a cup of salt instead of a spoonful. ”

  “Ugh! I believe that it is placed on the family’s table at the banquet, but I don’t know if they’ll eat it. ”

  “Let’s hope not. ” I sniggered, thinking of the look on their faces if they tried. “And Tobin? Can’t he have a shirt?”

  “The groom’s vows say that he can offer her only the strength of his arms to protect and watch over her. ”

  “I see. ”

  I glanced up and saw Marta’s mother glaring at me. I blushed, embarrassed at being caught talking.

  “Creel,” Luka said, jabbing me with an elbow, “your turn. ”

  “Oops!” I leaped forward to where Tobin and Marta were waiting for me. No wonder her mother had been glaring, I thought, blushing again.

  Lifting the wreath of spiky evergreens and small star-shaped white flowers high, I held it out to Tobin. As clearly as I could, I recited in Moralienin the words that I had been told were the traditional welcome of a new son and brother to a family. Since Marta had no sisters to perform this, she had asked me to do it, to my delight. I set the wreath on Tobin’s shaved head and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on both cheeks. He grinned at me and I grinned back as I stepped aside.

  Tobin’s sister, Ulfrid, came forward and solemnly greeted Marta, placing a wreath on her head and kissing her cheeks. She even smiled faintly as she did it, and brushed my hand in a friendly way as we returned to our places.

  Putting his arm around my waist, Luka pulled me close as the Moralienin patriarch began the last part of the ceremony. “We should do that,” he whispered.

  “Wear flowers in our hair?” I was watching the ceremony and not really paying attention to Luka, despite the warmth of his arm.

  Tobin’s eldest brother, the head of the household since their father’s death some years ago, had come forward. Skarpin had surprised us by being as garrulous and emotional as Tobin and Ulfrid were silent and controlled. His red beard was a sharp contrast to his shaved head, and he had six earrings in each ear, a sign that he was a wealthy landowner. He took the loaf of bread from the priest and began the traditional praising of the bride’s skills.

  “No,” Luka said. “We should get married. ”

  Now I gave him my full attention. “What?” My heart started to beat its way out of my chest. “Now? Here?”

  “Why not? We can always get married again in Feravel if Father demands it. ” His eyes sparkled down at me. “Say yes?”

  “You’re a prince, I’m a dressmaker!”

  “You’re only a commoner because you choose to be,” Luka whispered fiercely. “For everything you’ve done in the past two years, you could have been awarded a title ten times over! You keep turning them down!”

  I hesitated. “I don’t think I deserve to be a duchess just because I’ve managed to survive two wars,” I finally said. Then I straightened my spine. “Your father will kill us both! He hates me, my common birth aside!” It was hard for me to keep my voice to a whisper, but I did my best, ignoring Mistress Hargady’s glares.

  “He does suspect that you started the wars on purpose,” Luka said, amused. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m a second son; I have more room to manoeuvre than Miles. ”

  “Manoeuvre?”

  “You know what I mean: to fall in love. ” A thrill ran through me at his words. He loved me!

  Luka pulled me closer. “Say yes. ”

  I was still tingling all over. “I shall have to think about it,” I said with mock dignity as I extracted myself from his arms. People were starting to stare. “I do have a shop to run. ”

  “I am accounted a fair bookkeeper,” Luka said.

  “And I have promised to visit the Far Isles next spring to see Shardas and Velika’s new home and bring them more seeds and perhaps animals. ”

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  “The Far Isles would be a fine destination for a bridal tour. ”

  I tapped my lips, feigning deep thought. All the while my heart continued to pound and the roaring in my ears was preventing me from hearing the patriarch’s final words.

  “I’ll have to see if you look as impressive as Tobin, shirtless and with weapons hanging all over you,” I said, but my shaking voice ruined the lightness of my words.

  “And I shall have to sample your bread. We all know that sewing a gown is not a problem for you. ” He cleared his throat, and I was pleased that he looked nervous, too. “Is that a yes?”

  “As long as you understand that we’ll have to get married out of doors, whether here or in Feravel,” I said, squeezing his hands in mine. “After all, the head of my family is a dragon. ”

 
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