The chill air felt as heavy as pond water between us. “There is something you’re not telling me.”
The mud he scraped off turned to powder. It filtered down to the stair below him. “My uncle looks for someone to blame for Desmond’s death,” he said. “People will begin taking sides now. The fey will stand behind the dragons.”
“Will it come to that?” I asked, frightened.
“It already has.”
I ran my fingers along the rough wall. “What should we do? What can we do?”
Silence.
Then Jackrun leaned his head close to mine. “It’s not over yet,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. I sat very still in the wake of his whisper, my ear tingling where his mouth touched it. “Uma?”
“Jackrun,” I responded, not knowing what the question was.
He drew back and stood, gripping his dagger’s jeweled hilt.
“Tell me you will keep your door locked from now on.”
I swallowed, and managed a nod before I watched him descend toward the torchlit hall below, his shadow following after him.
Chapter Twenty
Pendragon Summer Castle, Dragon’s Keep
Wolf Moon
September 1210
THE FAIRIES CAME that afternoon in a regal progression, bearing a thick glass coffin wreathed in wildflowers. I’d heard their pipes and drums and run to the window looking out.
Dragons flew over their solemn cavalcade in a V formation, Lord Kahlil in the lead with the copper-scaled sisters, Nahal and Sitara, behind him, a large green female and copper male flying in the rear. I didn’t see Babak.
Hands still wet from scrubbing down my herber’s table, I raced down the tower steps and out into the foreyard.
Through the gathering throng of soldiers and servants, I saw Jackrun by the portcullis gate, hands on his hips. Duke Bion, Lady Tess, and Tabitha came out the front door followed by Lady Olivia. I was surprised she’d leave the queen, but Her Majesty was asleep when I’d left her a short while ago and likely still was. More than a hundred people filled the foreyard, I guessed, many of them armed men. The dragons winged down and landed, clipping their talons on the crenellated walls, two on one side of the gatehouse, three on the other. People will begin taking sides now. The fey will stand behind the dragons. Babak blamed me for Prince Desmond’s fall. Had the dragons and the fey sided with him? Would they draw me out? Accuse me? My skin felt strung tight as the fairies rode past the gatehouse playing their dirge. I pressed myself in among the curious servants as King Arden stepped outside.
The crowd parted. The piping and drumming ceased. King Arden’s face was hard as packed earth as he took in the ornate cut-glass coffin meant for his son. Vines of inlaid gold and silver decorated the top and sides; gems sprouted from the vines like flowers.
The solemn fairy king dismounted and went to King Arden. His red-and-white silken robes fluttered like banners. He towered over the Pendragon king.
“Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. “We have heard the news of the terrible accident. There are no words in our ancient language for such a terrible loss. Let our tears speak for us, our pipes and drums, our glass coffin inlaid with precious metals and gems, though there is nothing fine enough for the prince who left his life too soon.”
Two fey guards placed the coffin on a rug they’d spread on the ground near King Arden. It was too fine a thing to set upon the cobbles.
King Arden scowled down at it a moment.
“We dragons join you in mourning your loss, King Arden,” said Lord Kahlil, in his gravelly dragon voice. “This fine coffin is also a gift from us. We breathed fire for the molding of the glass.” He paused before going on. “We dragons wish that all be rightly done by the prince of Wilde Island now that he has passed from us.” Smoke trickled from the dragonlord’s nose. He whipped his tail against the wall with a slow slap, slap. The others did the same and it was louder and more unnerving than the fairy drums had been. I shrunk in amongst the crowd, glad Babak hadn’t come, praying they wouldn’t single me out.
Duke Bion said, “We thank you for your kind words, Lord Kahlil, and for your fire. We thank you too, King Morselid. We know you are doing all you can to help our family with this loss. This is a time of mourning for us all. This death was a terrible accident and no one is to blame. Prince Desmond would not want anyone punished for his accidental fall.”
“How do you know what my son would want?” barked King Arden. “Where is the guard I sent to watch over my son on his outing? I have only just learned from one of my men that he has vanished from the infirmary. Run off like the guilty wretch he always was. Did he come running to you?” he demanded, turning to King Morselid. “Are you protecting him?”
The fey king looked offended. “We have seen no guard of yours, King Arden.”
“Nor have we,” said the dragonlord from the wall.
“And where is the dragon who was supposed to catch my son?” demanded King Arden, looking up. “Is he here to pay his respects, or is he hiding somewhere like a coward?”
Three things happened at the word coward. The dragons opened their jaws and roared a roof of fire over our heads, Lady Olivia ran inside screaming along with many others, and Jackrun raced across the courtyard, shouting, “How dare you call Babak a coward!”
I pressed my way forward through the guards, less afraid now for myself than I was for Jackrun, who might draw his blade on the king. But Duke Bion reached him first, pulled him back, and shouted, “Leave it alone, Jackrun!”
“Let the boy shout!” screamed King Arden, raising his fists under the fiery roof. “Let the dragons roar. My son is dead!”
One by one the fey horses bolted, racing madly through the portcullis gate. King Morselid mounted his black charger and rode after his people. The carthorses galloped out behind the king, the cart swinging to and fro behind them.
“Order here!” shouted the duke. “I will have peace and order on my castle grounds!”
The dragons took off all at once and flew toward the north woods.
My throat was dry, my body sweat-drenched in the nearly deserted yard. No one had pointed a finger at me. No one had mentioned that I’d cried out to Desmond in that last moment before he fell; still, I was shaking.
Jackrun stood red-faced and puffing hard like a man on the edge of battle.
I wondered if he would have fought for me if I had been named.
The dragon smoke cleared, revealing the pale green sky of early twilight. King Arden was slumped over by his son’s coffin, his heavy breaths fogging up the glass. Lady Tess spoke. “We will bring Desmond’s casket inside.” She looked about. “Who among us will carry it inside for the king?”
Jackrun and his father stepped forward along with two of the king’s men.
Chapter Twenty-one
Cave, Dragon’s Keep
Wolf Moon
September 1210
NEXT MORN THE rain swept in. I ran full tilt down the stormy beach. I’d dreamed of Sir Geoffrey, and I’d awakened knowing where to find him. When I arrived breathless, he was there in the cave the dream had shown me, sitting with his back against the wall.
I’d opened my herb pouch, then paused seeing the sharp blade in his hand.
He pointed it at me. “How did you know where to find me?” Angry lines traced his narrowed eyes and the edges of his mouth. I’d seen that furious glare aimed at Prince Desmond more than once; now he was giving me the same malicious look. I backed away.
“You think I would turn you in?” I said, “I told no one where I was going. No one else knows where you are.” I regretted the words as soon as I’d said them. Now Sir Geoffrey knew there was no one at my back if I needed help.
I drew my own knife out from under my sleeve, facing him. “The priest, Father Ezra, kept your escape a secret as long as he could,” I said. “None of us
want to see you killed. But if you don’t trust me at all, I will leave now and take my food and medicine with me.”
“I am trained to survive.”
“So am I.”
Kneeling at a distance from him, I unpacked the food, water pouch, the herbs and salve I’d brought. “I will not treat your wound at knifepoint.”
He put the blade by his side, still within easy reach, I noticed. I slid mine back in its arm sheath and approached him. The sweat on his skin glistened, giving his rigid face a strange otherworldly glow. I removed his bandage and salved the reddened skin around the sutures with the new woundwort ointment.
It felt strange to use the yarrow I’d gathered the day Prince Desmond fell to heal the knight King Arden blamed for his death.
“You must do this twice a day. I do not think I will be able to come back to attend to you.”
“I wouldn’t be here if you did.” His face was hard, half shadowed.
I took a few more steps back. “Where will you go?”
He looked at the cave wall seeing what I could not see. I thought I had known this man. I realized I did not know him at all.
“It won’t be long now before we set sail for Wilde Island.” I paused, listening to the distant thunder as more rain swept in from the sea. The heavy downpour would soak me on my way up the beach as I headed back to the summer castle. “I have to go. The queen will need me again before long.”
“Did Father Ezra say anything else?” he asked suspiciously.
I thought a moment. “He asked about Desmond’s fall. If we were sure it was an accident.”
Sir Geoffrey pushed himself up with his hands to lean against the cave wall. He gripped his knife again. “And you? What did you say?” His eyes were dark as sinkholes. The steady look made me back toward the cave entrance.
“I told him it was an accident.” Father Ezra had not seemed completely satisfied with my answer. I didn’t feel safe enough to tell that to Sir Geoffrey before I ran outside.
I was drenched when I reached the castle and was told to join the queen in the duke’s presence room. With no time to run upstairs and change, I entered dripping wet and headed toward the hearth under Lady Olivia’s critical eye. She considered herself responsible for me and disapproved of me coming in both late and wet.
The king and queen sat near the fire across from Duke Bion and Lady Tess. Jackrun and Tabitha were behind their parents. Jackrun’s approving glance when I walked in was very different from Lady Olivia’s. He too preferred outdoors to walled-in places and seemed to enjoy my damp wayfarer’s look. But his pleasure was short-lived. A gloom lay over everyone. Only Kip seemed happy sitting with his mother, toying with the queen’s red ball.
Pippin, opposite him on the queen’s lap, looked jealously at Kip’s toy, which by rights belonged to him. I know the feeling, I thought, staring at the Euit blanket on the wall. Hanging there for all to see; it felt like another part of my life was on display. My past, my people, my heritage nailed to the wall, held captive in this English castle.
I’d been staring over Jackrun’s shoulder too long. He moved aside a little and was looking back at the blanket himself when his little brother slid down from Lady Tess’s chair and crossed the great silent gulf on his short, stout legs, holding out the ball.
“Play doggie?” Kip asked. Queen Adela passed Pippin to Lady Olivia, swept Kip up, kissed him on the cheek, and sat him on her lap.
“You are looking rested, Your Majesty.” Lady Tess spoke gently, as if she were addressing a frail old woman. Queen Adela didn’t lift her gaze. She hummed to herself, wrapping one of Kip’s brown curls about her forefinger.
The king said, “Kip eases my wife in our time of sorrow.”
“I’m glad for it,” the duke said cautiously. He and Lady Tess seemed to choose each word with care, as if knives were at their throats.
King Arden said, “My wife and I will leave tomorrow.”
A wave washed through me. The sooner I could bring the queen safely home where she could rest and heal and have the child she wanted, the sooner the soldiers would leave my people. But a hollow spot ached below my breastbone when I thought of leaving Jackrun. No one had ever spoken to me the way that he had.
“Brother,” said the duke. “I will order my men to provision your ship with whatever you need for a safe journey home. Jackrun will oversee the workmen.”
“I expected you would do that for us, Bion. Now there is something else you will do for me and for my wife.” I folded my hands behind my back, waiting for what else he might say.
“As you just said, Bion, you’re glad your younger son gives my wife comfort. She sorely needs it now. You have three healthy children. As of this week, we have none.” His eyes were dark flints. “We have decided to take Kip home with us. He’ll be like a son to us, raised on Wilde Island with the best of care.”
“No!” Lady Tess jumped out of her chair with such force she nearly knocked me into the fire. We steadied each other at the hearth before she gripped the mantel, sucking in a loud breath. “You cannot take my son away. He’s two and a half years old.”
Duke Bion came to a slow stand. “I know you’re both in mourning, brother,” he said. “But this would be wrong. He is our child. You cannot expect us to agree to this.”
“You don’t have to agree, Bion. I am king. I decree it. It will be done.”
“Kip,” Lady Tess said with a soft cry. “Come to Mommy, dear.” She held out her arms.
Kip scrambled down from the queen’s lap and went to Lady Tess. She swung him up. Thumb in his mouth, he rested his curly head against her shoulder.
Jackrun crossed the room and went down on one knee to the king. “Sire, let me go in my brother’s stead. He’s too young to . . . to travel,” he stammered.
“Jackrun, don’t,” cried Lady Tess.
He kept talking, his dark head bowed. “I have always wanted to see our family home on Wilde Island. You won’t have to sail home alone. Let me come and keep you both company, Your Majesty.”
“Jackrun,” his father cautioned, “you shouldn’t have to . . . neither one of my sons should have to—” For once the eloquent duke could say nothing. Lady Tess clung to her little boy. The queen leaned over and whispered in her husband’s ear.
“We’ll leave you now,” the king said.
“But what’s your answer?” Jackrun asked, looking up.
The king scowled. “Not now, Jackrun. The queen is weary.”
He helped his wife to a stand. Lady Olivia headed for the door. “Uma, bring Pippin with you, and follow us straightaway,” she ordered. I went to fetch the lapdog from under the king’s abandoned chair.
Lady Tess put her hand out toward Jackrun. “Come here, son.” He went to her. So did her husband and daughter. The family gathered together by the fire as travelers huddle close in a storm.
Chapter Twenty-two
Pendragon Summer Castle, Dragon’s Keep
Wolf Moon
September 1210
LADY TESS SENT a servant to fetch me later that evening and bring me to her solar. At the window the duchess looked out to the night sea. Her artist’s studio was simply furnished. Brushes of all sizes bloomed from jars by the easel. It was comforting to see an English woman spending time on something she loved. Lady Tess had made her own choices defying convention as my mother had. If they ever met, I thought they could be friends.
One of the paintings along the wall showed Jackrun at age four or five building a sand castle on the beach with a smiling girl with startling features—green dragon scales across her forehead, golden eyes with dark slit pupils. I’d heard about King Arden and Duke Bion’s younger sister, Princess Augusta. She looked no more than five years older than her nephew Jackrun in the painting. The playful look on Jackrun’s face reminded me more of Kip than of the Jackrun I knew now. I felt sad thinking that.
“They were very close,” Lady Tess said.
“What happened to the princess?”
“She left us years ago.” Her voice caught; her look told me to ask no more about the princess. These Pendragons had so many secrets.
“The king has made his decision,” she said. “My older son leaves with your party on the ship tomorrow.”
I felt a flutter of gratitude. I wouldn’t have to say good-bye after all. But I masked my joy in front of her ladyship. Her son was leaving home. “Jackrun is strong to do this for his little brother, my lady.”
We stood across from each other by the fire. “I know he’s strong. That’s not what worries me.” She paused. “The first night you came here, Uma, I saw you on the beach. I know you saw Jackrun breathing fire.”
She’d said nothing before this. Why bring it up now?
“You have told no one?” she asked.
“I promised Jackrun I wouldn’t.”
“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed. “My husband and I don’t think the king should know what our son can do. Not yet.”
“Why? It is an admirable gift; a power only dragons have had until now. Your son has a great fire in him.”
Lady Tess drew in a quick breath.
It was a strange thing to say. I didn’t care. She’d asked me to her tower room knowing I would sail off with her older son tomorrow. If she wanted to know the way I viewed Jackrun’s dragon power, I would tell her the truth. “Why should he have to hide it from the king and the queen?”
“The king views his dragon heritage differently than my husband does, Uma. He would not accept Jackrun’s power.”
Do you? I wanted to ask. “Jackrun seems to think he is dangerous. He wouldn’t tell me why.”
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