Ice Dragon Tales

by Hurri Cosmo

  The man cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention once more. "As it relates to Prince Joron Amar, ownership of Ice Dragon Pass will go to him upon the death of the king."

  Instantly the queen was on her feet. Diagus also took a step forward, toward the man. They both shouted, "What?"

  "I will not allow it," the queen screamed at the man. "That property belongs to the kingdom and therefore the king. I will not allow this"--she waved her arm at Joron, who simply stood bewildered at the turn of events--"child who doesn't even belong here, that kind of power and control."

  At the same time his mother was shrieking, Diagus pushed Joron back behind him, as if protecting him from his mother's fury. "You mean to tell me when the king dies, that Ice Dragon Pass will no longer belong to the kingdom? How can that happen?"

  "I am sorry, your majesties, but I am only reading into law what the king has decreed. You know as well as I do, it is right and just that his will be obeyed."

  "He is not dead yet," the queen spat at him.

  Diagus paled as he turned toward the bed again. "You're right, Mother, he is not. We need to get him to change this...for everyone's sake."

  Joron didn't quite understand the look on his brother's face. If he had to guess, it would be worry. But what for? There was a loud moan then coming from the bed. Joron looked down to his father and saw him breathe his last breath. The queen whipped around and saw it as well.

  "No-o-o!"

  In any other setting, in any other family, where love was ever present at all, the queen's expletive would have been followed with weeping and wailing for the death of a husband, a father, a king. In this case, the weeping came because she found out too late the Ice Dragon Pass--the only safe route through the treacherous Norborne Mountains--had passed completely and legally to Joron. Because the king was dead and there were witnesses to his passing, witnesses to the reading of his will and what it said, there was nothing either one of them could do but accept it.

  Joron was as shocked as his brother and the queen. He stared down at the now lifeless body of the king. Suddenly there were others around the bed, others who Joron saw were new to the room. They pushed everyone aside and began checking for breath and heartbeat.

  Ahhh, these would be the doctors.

  When finally the busy work stopped and the attending doctors stepped back, a silence fell heavily over the room, as if finally in reverence to the now dead king. Joron could not help thinking the vile man did not deserve it, but beat that feeling back. It was no longer his job to judge the man. In fact, it had never been his job. Then a voice broke the silence.

  "Long live the king..." It was a small, almost inaudible comment, coming from one of the seated men. They truly were witnesses to this event. Witnesses to the passing of one king and the ascension of another. The chant was repeated and several other voices joined in.

  "Long live the king."

  Then a little louder, with more force, "Long live the king."

  Diagus stood next to his mother, stared wide-eyed at his brother, and then dropped his chin to his chest as the chants continued.

  Joron looked down again at his father, wishing he could shed a few tears for him. Oxys had, after all, taken him and his sick mother in and given them both shelter. He had been told at one time the man even doted on him, actually had affection for him. But Joron never remembered any kindness ever shown him from his father. In fact, he only remembered pain. Joron could not bring himself to feel sorry he was dead. He sighed and felt a great need to leave the room. He still had a long journey ahead of him and suddenly departing this very minute seemed like a great idea. He turned away from the bed, from his brother and the queen, and made his way to the door.

  "Where do you think you're going?" snarled the queen.

  "Back to my room. I didn't have much sleep last night and I'm tired." He didn't turn to face her. She was no longer, as of ten minutes ago, a governing body. But his brother was and now had power over him.

  "Wait a minute, Joron." Diagus sounded suddenly tired himself. "You need to relinquish your rights to Ice Dragon Pass. It's stupid the king is not in full control of it. Stupid. What the hell was he thinking?" Then, as if Diagus realized there were witnesses present, he softened his tone. "Look, Joron, I'll make this lucrative for you. I'll see to it you receive..." But he wasn't allowed to finish his sentence. The representative interrupted with an apology.

  "Please forgive me for my intrusion, your majesty. I must warn you of the legal issues now involved, seeing the king, whose will we are still reading, is dead. Everything that is now written here is law. Written here is the only way the ownership of Ice Dragon Pass is to return to the kingdom and therefore the king."

  Slowly Diagus turned to the man, his tone dripping in anger. "Then pray tell us, Mr. Representative, what is that specification?"

  He paled. "Um...only upon"--the representative looked quickly at Joron, who had also turned to face him, then back to Diagus--"the death of Joron Amar. He..." Again he looked at Joron. "You are not able to...sell or give away your rights. The king was concerned you would be"--he looked down to the floor--"manipulated into selling it outside the kingdom. I'm sorry, Prince Joron." He once again turned his attention to the new king. "Upon Prince Joron's death--and only his death--the ownership of Ice Dragon Pass would return to you...King Diagus."

  The queen threw back her head and laughed. Diagus simply closed his eyes and shook his head. The representative looked at Joron with a look of helplessness. The man had, in effect, just signed Joron's death certificate. Joron swallowed hard, slipped out of the room, and ran down the hall toward his own chambers. He was truly no longer safe in the castle.

  Chapter 3

  Joron left the castle through the servant's door as usual, burdened with his pack of toys, gifts, and the precious medicine for Kalen. He was surprised at the generosity of the people who knew what he was doing and where he was going. He smiled. There was nothing more amazing than the human heart and spirit when there was a sick child involved. With help from two of the kitchen servants, he secured all the packages on his horse, along with his bedroll and some food, and then mounted up.

  He would not allow his bodyguards to accompany him. He rarely did. The ones who were charged with protecting him were not happy and had argued endlessly for him to allow one to come, especially this time, since he was headed out to the edges of the kingdom itself, something he did not do often. But he flat out refused because, as of today, things had definitely changed. He could not allow anyone else to be involved in this treasonous act against the king, who was now his brother.

  Until Joron could discern what kind of king Diagus would be, he needed to be more than cautious. His disguise had always worked well. Still, it was a double-edged sword. The royal family was not well liked out in the public and for good reason. Since Joron was part of the royal family, it would have been good to let the people know the castle truly did hear them and support them, though it was not the king himself. Of course, such knowledge could not be allowed. Joron would not be so arrogant as to believe he would not be attacked if he were to parade himself into the towns and homes of the people in need. To be grateful to a servant was far easier than to be grateful to a greedy royal. Plus, word that Joron, the bastard prince, was doling out goodies in opposition to the king's dictates would eventually reach royal ears. No one much cared what a servant did.

  But a prince, even a lowly one, delivering needed supplies, would have helped the bad image to dissipate. Still, disobeying the king's orders, even being a prince, would not protect him in the end. A prince's head came off just as easily as any other. So the less he advertised his identity, the better.

  He did need to step up the security, for a while, until he understood what it was he was up against with his brother. He was extremely glad now he had chosen to meet with Hawklin where he did. The farther he was away from knowing, prying eyes when the medicine was delivered, the better.

  * * * *

&nbs
p; Although it was a fair distance, the main gate into the castle proper was visible from the Blade Rain servants' entrance. King Aric had stopped his group and, taking the offered spyglass from his assistant, he focused on the young man busy packing a horse for departure. Yes, this was the same young man he had seen before. He first became aware of him the last time he had visited this castle a year ago. Again he had watched from afar, that time from a Blade Rain castle window, as the young man was arriving back from a trip. As he dismounted, being helped by castle servants, Aric found himself wishing his own hands were the ones that gripped and steadied the young man. The young servant's smile had been infectious and absolutely beautiful. Aric imagined pulling him into an embrace, if only to smell the shiny brown hair that blew gently around his face. However, at that time, King Aric forced those thoughts away. He could not lust after another king's servant. He had not been prepared to offer up anything that trip, having only come to renegotiate his usage of the pass, and that had been expensive enough. To have added purchasing a servant to the mix would have muddied his intent and purpose for being in Blade Rain. He remembered how he had steeled his heart and mind, knowing he needed to stay focused.

  But it had been a mistake, because for the next eleven plus months, all he dreamed about, all he fantasized about, was that young man.

  This time, as the king watched once again, feeling his manhood stir at just the sight of him, the young man appeared to be leaving instead of returning.

  "Follow him. Find out who he is and what he's doing. He looks like he's trying to sneak out of the castle and I want to know why. He's obviously a servant, so I want to know where he's going. I want to know how important he is to Blade Rain."

  "Yes, sire." Aric's man set out immediately to obey his king's command.

  After nearly five minutes of simply watching the beautiful man, Aric was feeling something he had not felt in a very long time--an awakening. He didn't question it. He didn't care. He only knew he was more than interested. It was clear the young man was being cautious, his eyes and head jerking one way then the next at imagined noises or shadows. Even from this distance, Aric thought he could feel the young man's heat. He imagined he saw it in his green eyes. He should question why he had this strong of a reaction, but he simply thought it had something to do with the fact he had not had a young man under him in a long while.

  It had been some time since someone had captured his attention like this, woman or man. It was true the young man was quite beautiful in his face, body, and movements--regal, though he was a servant. But there was something more about him, something about his smile, the look on his face that made Aric want desperately to learn more. He truly felt the absolute need to touch him. He sighed as he finally handed the glass back to his subordinate. He had business here that could not wait and approaching a young servant without the consent of the royal family was rude at best. He needed to calm his sudden raging lust until he learned more. The king once again turned toward the main gate and reluctantly allowed the young man to slip from his sight. He was only encouraged by the fact his man would obtain the information he wanted. Until then, he would have to be patient.

  * * * *

  Joron headed out, happy with the earlier departure, knowing he should arrive at the entrance of Ice Dragon Pass at, or before, nightfall. He intended to camp overnight and head back in the morning. He assumed Kalen's father would arrive an hour or so ahead of him and would camp as well, also heading out in the morning. Ice Dragon Pass, as well traveled as it was, was still not a path to negotiate at night. There were pitfalls and wild animals to consider, and though Kalen's father would want to continue, Joron had no intention of allowing it.

  It wasn't long before Joron felt uneasy. Two hours into the journey, he started to feel as if he were being watched--as if he were being followed. The knowledge came to him slowly, hearing the occasional snapping of dry twigs or the distant rustle of leaves--noticing sounds like the sudden flutter of birds that came from an area he already passed through or a far off exhale of breath.

  He laughed at himself for imagining things, hoping he was imagining things. If it wasn't his brother's men following him, then it could be thieves, but in broad daylight that was unlikely. However, a man alone was definitely a target even though that man was dressed as he was, which certainly did not look wealthy. He would not attract the normal highway robbery attempt.

  Of course there were these bags on his horse.

  He continued, although at times now he regretted the need to not allow for at least one guard along for protection. He kicked his horse into a faster gait, hoping to put the feeling of unrest behind him.

  Night came quickly this close to the mountains. Joron had no fear of being able to arrive at the entrance of Ice Dragon Pass before dark, but as the late morning turned into afternoon and then into early evening, the feeling of being trailed did not go away. Joron didn't stop again or turn suspiciously because he wouldn't see anyone. If indeed he were being followed, for whatever reason, they were not going to show themselves.

  Joron came up and over the hill that heralded the descent to the entrance. In the failing light, he saw several camps being set up, a number of fires already burning. It seemed to be a busy night at the pass. Joron breathed a sigh of relief. With all this activity, whoever it was that trailed him would not think about doing anything tonight.

  Forgetting his unseen companion for the moment, Joron once more kicked his horse into a faster gait. Since Joron had no idea what Hawklin looked like, he would have to guess, but there was only one fire with a lone man sitting near it. Joron reined his horse toward that one.

  The lone man jerked his head up, startled by the sudden noise, then he rose quickly and stood cautiously with his hand on his hip. Presumably, a sheathed knife attached to his belt rested under that hand. When Joron was close enough, he called out to him. "Are you Hawklin?"

  The man narrowed his eyes but kept his hand at his hip. "Yes. Who are you?"

  "I am from the castle and have your medicine."

  Hawklin immediately relaxed. He waved weakly and waited for Joron's horse to come to a halt in front of him. Joron dismounted and reached out a hand in a gesture of friendship. Hawklin took it.

  "May I ask your name?" the older man asked.

  Joron smiled, releasing Hawklin's hand. "My name is not important. It's the generosity of the castle servants you would say thankful prayers for tonight." He reached up and grabbed down the most precious of bags and gave it to Hawklin with a slight bow. "Please, on their behalf, take this, and our prayers, to your daughter."

  "Thank you. I can't tell you enough..." He hesitated, and Joron cringed, hoping the man wasn't going to cry, and also because he knew the next question. "Could you tell me... I mean...why--"

  Joron would not let him finish. "The king is dead. He died only hours ago, right before I left. Prince Diagus, who has recently returned from a three-year absence, has ascended to the throne. In the commotion that followed, we were able to obtain the medicine. Don't worry. It will not be missed. Perhaps you have heard rumors of a group out of the castle who aids those who are in need. This is what we do." Joron gave what he hoped would be an encouraging smile.

  Hawklin grinned as best he could, a tear rolling down his face. He shook his head and turned to pack the bag into his saddlebag. When he faced Joron again, he was back in control. "Thank you."

  Joron chuckled. "I have more gifts for you and your family, Hawklin." He took the rest of the bags and helped Hawklin tie them to his horse, making him ready for travel.

  Hawklin was overwhelmed with joy. He couldn't stop thanking Joron, continuing to ask his name. Joron, of course, continued to deny him that knowledge. Soon complete darkness fell. Joron was relieved to know he would not have to fight Hawklin on braving the pass at night. They talked while Joron fixed a light supper for them from the food that was sent along, but it became quickly apparent Hawklin was exhausted. So after they finished eating, Joron suggested they s
leep. The sooner they headed out in the morning, the better for the both of them.

  Although Joron was exhausted himself, he was still leery of his unseen watcher. But after he had settled into as comfortable of a position as possible, sleep would not be denied.

  * * * *

  Joron woke feeling chilly. He sat up and noticed the fire had died down, only hot embers remaining. He also noticed there was the slightest indication in the sky dawn was approaching. He thought again about his belief he had been followed. He wished he had thought to watch the night before for any other late arrivals to the entrance--if anyone arrived after he had. He looked around now but it was still too dark to see much, since most of the other fires had died down as well. All he could hear were loud snores and the movement of restless sleepers.

  He stirred the hot coals, adding more firewood, teasing the fire back to life. He lay back down then and closed his eyes, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep. He was obviously safe for the moment. But he also thought if indeed it had been Diagus's men, killing Joron out here, especially at the entrance of the pass, would have been a perfect and very ironic opportunity.

  Full dawn came without incident. Hawklin stoked the fire into flames again, adding more wood, and made coffee and cakes for breakfast. Joron thanked him as he accepted the plate he was offered. The sun had peeked over the horizon and though the pass would still be dark in many areas, it would be safe now for passage. Joron shook Hawklin's hand again, mounted, and steered his horse toward home.