Six of the riders exited the forest. There have to be more. Brigands would not like the odds of six against four. They stopped a few feet from the forest’s edge and studied Killian’s party. Because he’d wanted to slip away, none of the guards wore their uniforms. He hadn’t even dressed like a lord or prince. Standing there now, he simply resembled one of his grandmother’s cavalrymen enjoying a free day.
“Give us your gold and we’ll let you walk away,” the man on the lead horse said.
“You do not want to bother us. It is in your best interest to move on.” Ryan’s voice had gone cold, his expression hard as stone, his blade in the ready position, waiting for the brigands to make the first move. He shifted closer to Killian and spoke low. “Your Highness, you should mount and run.”
“To where?” he hissed in response. “If I do not miss my guess, they have more men in the trees, I would not get far. I prefer to fight.”
“I have failed.”
“We’re not dead yet, Ryan,” he said as the ruffians dismounted. He frowned. The horses would be an advantage against those on foot.
“Stay close, prince,” Ryan commanded before turning his attention back to the bandits. “I offer you one last chance. Leave us and your lives will be spared.” When the only answer to Ryan’s demand was laughter, Killian heard his guard sigh before he said, “Your father is going to have my head for this.”
Killian shifted the grip on his sword, bringing it to the ready position. In his mind, he heard Serena’s voice, correcting his form. He could almost feel her arms around him as she guided him through a series of moves. “No, he won’t.”
“You’re right.” Ryan nodded to the men who were readying their weapons. “They will.”
The brigands charged. All three of Killian’s guards were masters of their art. They moved to form a protective barrier in front of the prince. As a unit, the guards advanced on their attackers, closing the distance and choosing where to make their stand. The flat-topped rock offered no cover, but it also meant they had visual advantage over their attackers who couldn’t circle around behind them.
Killian lost himself in the rhythm of the fight, finding a measure of peace in the heat of battle. When one of their attackers fell, another came out of the woods to take the fallen comrade’s place. Killian watched, unable to help as a dagger took Mitchell in the throat. The guard fell, and Ryan and Jackson moved in closer to cover Killian. He stepped forward and took the fallen guard’s place, but their attackers pressed nearer, and they were forced to fall back. Killian cried out as one man’s blade slipped past his defenses, the blade slicing into his forearm. To his right, Ryan gasped and dropped down on one knee. To the left, Jackson fell, a sword through his side. Killian retreated, looking for a way out.
Flames filled the air, heat coming in a searing wave. Killian dropped his sword, screamed and crouched, holding his hands over his ears as a deafening roar echoed everywhere. When his ears started working again, Killian was shaken by high-pitched screams.
He pivoted, staying in his crouch, looking for Ryan. The guardsman was on the ground a few feet away, his hand pressed to the wound in his side. Near the guard, a large red dragon had landed and was surveying the area with strange, green-gold flecked eyes. The serpent turned its gaze on Ryan, cocked its head to one side and sniffed the guard. On the other side of the rock, Killian shifted his weight, sending a couple small pebbles tumbling into the lake below with a splash. The dragon’s head swung around.
Killian froze. His heart thundered, and blood pounded in his ears along with a fine tremor of fear that ran through him as the creature fixed its gaze on him. As the prince stared into the dragon’s eye, he saw something familiar glimmering in the depths. The creature blinked, and Killian’s chest constricted to the point of pain. He cried out and dropped to his knees, a whispered prayer to the Gods on his lips, certain he was going to die. The realization hit hard. He’d never know what had become of Serena. The concept was a blow to his gut, knocking the air from his lungs and stealing all rational thought.
The creature tilted its massive head to one side, blinking a second time. Over on the other side of the rock, Ryan groaned and tried to push himself to his feet, blood gushing from his wound.
When the dragon swung its head to the right and growled, the low sound sent vibrations through Killian’s chest. He was as cautious as possible to move around the creature, his entire body shaking while stepping to his left. Sand and pebbles crunched under his feet, but he focused on keeping his movements slow and his breathing even, not doing anything to attract the attention of the predator.
Another ear-splitting roar shattered the silence. Killian reacted, protecting his ears and dropping to the ground, making himself as small as possible and waiting for the end to come. Rocks crushed, and stone cracked under the weight of the beast, and its breath washed over Killian in a hot, fetid cloud. He pushed himself to his feet as the creature launched itself at the tree line, its tail coming within inches of sweeping the prince’s feet out from under him. He jumped back, feeling the tail brush the tops of his boots before he sprinted to where the guard captain lay sprawled on the rock, the pool of blood growing with each passing heartbeat. He knelt at Ryan’s side and eased his friend onto his back.
“Killian, go,” the guardsman groaned. “We don’t know when that beast will turn its attention back to us. Leave me.”
“No.” The answer was as firm and regal as expected from a prince of the realm. Killian took off his tunic and shirt before using a dagger to cut the shirt into several strips, using them to bind Ryan’s wound.
Ryan’s eyes went wide showing the whites. “What… is… that?”
Killian turned in time to see the dragon had trapped the remaining bandits between itself and a natural cliff. As the prince watched, one of the thieves bolted, making a mad dash for freedom. The serpent reached out with a clawed foot and knocked the man back without serious injury. One female from the group decided to take advantage of the creature’s distraction and tried to slip past the tail. The dragon snorted and swung its scaled appendage, sweeping the woman’s legs out from under her, before using it as a moving barrier herding her back with the others. Killian took several slow steps toward the dragon, stopping when he was at the creature’s side. From his vantage point, the one eye he could see had shifted. He knew the creature was looking at him, waiting for something, for what, he didn’t know.
Judge them. Words hissed through Killian’s mind on a wave of heat that had the prince staggering back a step, fighting to remain on his feet. The voice was harsh, as though it held unknowable rage in check, and yet a softness made it hauntingly familiar.
“Your Highness.” Ryan pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the searing pain from his wound. Decades of training took over. He stumbled across the rock, trying to position himself between the prince and the dragon.
Killian fought to breathe as another presence filled his mind, strange and alien, yet familiar. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, hoping it would stop whatever it was from ripping his mind apart. Before he knew it, someone was behind him, hands on his arms and supporting him as his legs trembled and his guts twisted into knots.
“What’s wrong, Killian?” Ryan asked.
“A voice in my head,” Killian whispered, his eyes now wide open. Although the dragon still had the bandits pinned, its focus hadn’t fully diverted from Killian either. The prince pushed away from Ryan, taking a moment to make sure his legs would support him before he crossed the few steps to the creature. “Was that you?” he asked.
The dragon puffed out a breath and the huge eyelid slid closed for a moment before opening again. Yes, your Highness. This time, the voice in his mind had softened. Warm whispers ran through him, rather than red-hot screams. In the back of his mind, another thought tugged at his memory, tickled the edges of his understanding, before slipping away. Judge them.
Killian turned to face the bandits. They were a well-organized group. Every ma
n and woman were outfitted with light armor, weapons, and a cloth covered the lower halves of their faces. He had heard of this band, ruthless, and cutthroat… always able to avoid capture by the constables. If one of their members was captured, he or she would either be killed or take their own life before they could be interrogated. Killian had been present when his grandmother received reports of their deeds. He met each bandit’s gaze. Every stare was cold, hard, without remorse. Killian pulled his shoulders back, straightened his spine, and felt his court mask slide into place. “For the crimes of killing two Royal Guardsmen, gravely injuring another and placing the life of the heir to the throne in danger, I, Killian Rhys, hereby sentence you to death.” He turned to the dragon and offered the creature a sweeping bow. “You may do with them as you will.”
The dragon’s attention had returned to the bandits while Killian draped one of Ryan’s arms over his shoulder and supported his friend. The pair hadn’t taken more than three steps when a thread of warm magic slipped past Killian’s defenses and wrapped itself around his mind. Killian fought as his arms and legs stopped obeying his mental commands.
“Why?” he asked, meeting the dragon’s eye, fighting the pull that was dragging him to the edge of a dark abyss.
You do not need to witness. The voice echoed in his head as he was dragged into unconsciousness.
Bright sunlight, too bright, warmed the backs of his closed eyelids, and he was aware of birds singing for a few minutes before they squawked and fluttered away on the hum of feathered wings. The earth was cold and hard below him but he was cocooned on either side by something large, leathery and very warm. Killian groaned, shifting his body closer to the heat even as shouts tried to invade his rest, to pull him back to the waking world. He didn’t want to wake, content thinking of Serena in his dreams as she always had been, whispering loving words but never telling him what had happened to her. A cool breeze assaulted his body. Silvery strands of sleep clung to his mind, her voice fading, drowned out by loud shouts.
“Do not fire,” Ryan’s voice commanded, an edge of panic making his voice quaver.
“That creature has injured the prince. Take it down.” Mathias ordered.
Father? What happened? What’s going on? He rolled on to his side and opened his eyes. From his vantage point near the dragon’s feet Killian saw something that made his blood run cold. His father sat upon his chestnut stallion, surrounded by his personal guard and Killian’s as well. Each one of them held bows or crossbows at the ready.
“Sire, listen,” Ryan implored from somewhere on the other side of the winged beast.
Killian shook off the last vestiges of whatever sleep enchantment the dragon had put him under and pushed himself to his feet. “Father, hold. That creature saved our lives. It should be spared.” He put himself between the dragon and the guards, breathing a silent sigh of relief when the men and women in his guard lowered their weapons, though none of his father’s had.
“And what about the countless people it has killed during its unnatural long life?”
“Father, please. Be reasonable.”
Silence fell in the clearing and no one moved.
A snap, crack, thunk split the air.
A high-pitched keening cry filled the air, something hot and thick splashed on Killian’s shoulder.
The prince dragged a hand over the spot and, a second later, stared at the crimson blood staining it. He spun around and was faced with the smooth expanse of red and gold scales glittering in the light. The ground shook beneath his feet as the beast’s front claws slammed into stone. Time seemed to stop as if the world took a breath and held it.
Far in the distance, Killian heard the steady cadence of a massive heart. Another heavy drop of blood fell from the creature, and with a beat of its great wings, took to the air. From the corner of his eye, Killian saw another archer raise his bow and take aim. The prince swept his shield arm out, as though it had been strapped to his arm. A loud crack echoed, and he screamed as white-hot pain lanced through him. He dropped to his knees, cradling his injured arm to his chest. Killian searched the sky and watched the dragon winging its way toward the distant mountains. Sunlight glinting off something a few feet in front of him caught the prince’s eye. He reached out and plucked a dragon scale from the grass. Still warm from the creature’s body he expected it to be hard, but it was soft like supple leather and smooth to the touch.
“That was either very brave or very stupid, Killian. I’m not sure which.” Ryan knelt in front of the prince and held out a hand.
Killian raised his arm, hissing as Ryan took it in his hands and began probing it. “At the moment, it feels damned stupid.”
“You saved the dragon. It saved us, so I’d say you were brave, not stupid.”
“Killian Roderick Rhys, what in the name of all of the Gods were you thinking?” Killian’s father dismounted while his voice boomed the question.
Killian pulled his injured arm back to his chest and slipped the scale into a pocket with his other hand, before turning to face his father. “That creature is the reason I still draw breath. I chose not to see you and your men kill it out of hand.”
“I gave an order and expected it to be obeyed, not have my willful son defy me by injuring himself and possibly one of my own guards. This is that girl’s influence. I should have had her removed from court when I realized how infatuated you’d become.”
“If compassion and respect for a creature who saved my life is Serena’s influence, then I welcome and cherish it. It will make me a better ruler.”
“The matter of your betrothal will be decided before the week is out. You will marry whomever your grandmother and I choose for you. We will hear no more of this foolish abdication talk.” The crown prince turned his back on his son, mounted his horse and rode away with four guards. The remaining men and women stayed with Killian and Ryan.
Killian held his tongue, knowing that antagonizing his father would only make things worse. The heir to the throne knew how to wound his son, had known which barbs to throw and what marks they would hit.
“Your Highness?” A young woman in a healer’s smock dipped a low curtsy and waited.
“Rise. How may I help you?” he asked, pulling his court demeanor around him like armor.
“May I tend your arm, sire? If you please?”
Killian nodded and allowed her to lead him away to the healer’s wagon where Ryan was already being tended.
Chapter 13
The red dragon flew away from the lake, its acute hearing picking up snippets of the shouting match as she turned and headed for the range of mountains dividing the continent. She would swoop behind them before turning for home, no reason to lead the humans to the lair that would only result in more bloodshed. The long journey lasted most of the day, and she was beyond exhausted when she landed in the courtyard. Shedding her dragon form, Serena collapsed to the cobblestones, shivering.
“Foolish girl. Where have you been?” someone barked as she curled in on herself while trying to keep the warmth from escaping her body. Dirt and pebbles scraped her exposed skin.
“Lake… Killian…” she sputtered through chattering teeth.
The stranger wrapped her in a heavy cloak. “Princess. Can you walk?”
She shook her head. “Not a princess,” she insisted pulling the cloak around her.
“They didn’t tell you,” the strange man muttered under his breath.
Serena wanted to know who this strange man was, but her voice didn’t seem to be working. She tried to push away from him, but her arms felt heavy as if she’d spent a long day training or fighting.
“Just like your mother,” he said with a chuckle under his breath, “and father.”
Serena’s mind spun as he pulled her to her feet. The world swam in and out of focus, and she was sure on the ground was a much safer place to be. You knew my parents? How? Will you tell me about them? Will I survive? Where do I come from? She thought she’d asked the questions, but h
e continued as if she hadn’t said a thing.
“Don’t worry. I am not going to harm you. I am not one of those men. I have been searching for you, again, since I got word you disappeared from Haven.” He pulled one of her arms over his shoulders, his grip tight on her hand. Serena leaned into him, using his body for support when her legs refused to work. The man put his other arm around her waist. “Ancestors, give me strength,” he muttered sounding quite put out just before he propelled them forward.
The world around the two continued to do strange things as they staggered through parts of a keep Serena had never seen before. Walls wavered as though seen across a great distance on a hot day. Furniture appeared from out of nowhere to trip her. Rooms they passed were filled with sumptuous furnishings, roaring fires, long stone corridors, and at least one grand staircase. After more than one encounter with furniture, a near miss involving a large dusty vase, and several collisions with the walls, the man steered them through a door into a sumptuous bedchamber. He stopped beside a bed carved of dark wood with a red sheen. Bed clothes in shades of red and gold were taut over the thick mattress. Heavy velvet drapes hung from the massive canopy. The man pulled back the covers and laid Serena on the mattress.
“Who are you?” Her words slurred, running together so it was difficult to understand, but the man smiled as he took back his cloak.
“I am Altus.” He pulled the blankets up over her and walked to the other side of the bed. “I will explain everything when you wake up, princess.” He stoked the fire, filling the room with a burst of warmth.
Serena tried to speak, but some intrinsic connection between her mouth and her thoughts wasn’t working.
The stranger worked his way around the room, snuffing out candles and lamps. When only the light of the fire remained, he closed the drapes on both sides of the bed and stopped at the foot to regard Serena for a moment. “You have had a very trying past few days, but you are safe now. Just rest and recover. You were gone far longer than I expected.” He pulled the velvet tapestries shut at the foot of the bed and turned off the light.
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