“I don’t understand. Why would that matter?”
“Because, if the nobles treat you as an equal, then no one else dare to treat you without respect. Nobles are a different breed then villagers. If a villager dislikes you because you look different or smell bad, they’ll let you know. You can see it in their faces. With nobles, their faces are like masks. You never know what is going on behind them, but what matters is how they act in public. Now that they all know you’re a close friend of the Lamar family, so close that the Lord’s sister cuts your hair, they will always publicly treat you with deference.”
“Thank you, Sibylle. I never imagined that nobles would ever consider treating me as anything other than street garbage.”
“You’re most welcome, after all you did save my life. You are well worth any positive recognition you receive. Although I must warn you, being on equal footing with the nobles could be a curse instead of a blessing. If they think you are below them, they often will simply ignore you. Now that you are recognized as a friend of the Lamar family you can be a political target. So always be wary when dealing with nobles, even those that are considered my friends. You never know who you truly can trust.”
Lyric absorbed Sibylle’s words. He was starting to see that nobility was much more complicated than he had assumed. “If I do something stupid, it will reflect badly on you now, won’t it?”
“In theory, yes. However, you are not from here, so unless you did something really stupid, it would be easy to explain as cultural differences. But either way, that is not something to worry about. Enough politics for one night. Dance with Celine, have fun and I’ll see you in a few days at Redfall.” Sibylle smiled as they reached Celine and the others. “Thank you, Celine, your man is a talented dancer, but in these shoes I need a taller dance partner. Christian, would you be so kind?”
Christian rose from his bench. “Of course.”
“Celine, would you care to dance?” asked Lyric.
“I shouldn’t, my feet are still sore from trying to turn Brynn into a dancer, but let’s give it a go.”
“Come on, Celine, I barely touched your toes, you know it,” said Brynn in protest.
“So you say, Brynn,” said Mandy as she pulled him up towards the dance floor. “I’ll be the judge of your skills.”
Lyric smiled, he was enjoying the company of Celine’s friends. They were an interesting group and the constant teasing they give each other made for interesting conversations. Now he was happy to dance with Celine. Without saying a word, he walked her to the middle of the dance floor. Once the next song started he began to move to the steps that Azina had forced him to memorize. His eyes never left Celine. She looked beautiful and he felt lucky beyond imagine to be dancing with her. Celine’s stare matched his own. Lyric almost forgot to stop dancing when the music stopped, so enthralled with Celine, he had been lost in the moment.
Between Celine, Arria, and Maddy, Lyric spent the rest of the evening dancing. As the evening went on, more and more people wandered away. The elders and those with morning chores left first, followed by those with families and those who had taken in too much wine and ale. After a while Celine suggested they head back to the Pig’s Ear for one last drink with Blair. Lyric agreed and they left the others to finish off the dancing.
Between the brightly lit dancing area of the village center and the Pig’s Ear Inn the streets were much darker. The normal street lights were dull and shadow filled compared to the center. Lyric’s eyes took a few moments to adjust to the different level of light as they walked. When they were almost to the pub, a group of young men stepped out of the shadows, blocking the way into the pub.
“Well, if it isn’t Celine and her dark-skinned foreigner,” said Jamison.
Lyric could tell Jamison was drunk and in a foul mood, despite having never met the man before.
“Why don’t you go home, Jamison? It’s been a long day,” said Celine as she tried to avoid the situation.
“Oh, your all nice and friendly now are you? No insults when your friends aren’t here to protect you.”
“No need for insults tonight,” said Lyric in a cheery voice. “It’s been a grand day and we’d like to have one last ale at the pub. Would you fellows like to join us?”
“I don’t drink with darkies,” said Jamison with a snarl.
“Well, I’m really not that dark, certainly not as dark skinned as the darcarion sailors that would come to Winport. Most people say I’m more olive skinned,” said Lyric in a chatty and light tone. He knew this man was looking for trouble and was looking for an excuse to fight.
“So now you’re saying I’m color blind?” asked Jamison.
“No, he’s saying you’re being a bloody idiot, now go home,” said Celine in an angry tone. Her annoyance was obvious.
“I’m the idiot? I’ll show you who is an idiot,” said Jamison as he took a swing at Lyric.
Lyric ducked the swing. He didn’t want to fight the m an, the night had gone so well thus far. He just wanted to go have a drink with Blair, but that wasn’t going to happen just yet.
Jamison got madder as he kept trying to hit Lyric. Yet every blow seemed to just miss the target. He was drunk, but not to the point where his movement were slowed. Jamison kept getting madder and madder.
“What’s going on here?” asked Robert as he and the others arrived.
“A private affair, mind your business,” said one of Jamison’s cohorts as he stepped between Robert and the two men.
Robert smiled at the man, “Terrance, I’ll make you eat your teeth if you take one step further.”
“Don’t let him pass you, Terrance. I’m going to teach the slut’s little foreigner some manners,” swore Jamison.
Lyric, who had been trying his hardest to avoid a fight, started to get mad when Jamison insulted Celine. It was one thing to avoid a fight with a drunken fool who hated him for being different. He’d been different his whole life and had taken more than his fair share of beatings for it, but when Celine was insulted he no longer wanted to avoid fighting the man, instead he decided to changed his tactics. For the first time in his life, Lyric was mad enough to fight back. Jamison was an ass and deserved to be embarrassed.
As Jamison threw another haymaker at Lyric, he unexpectedly found his mark, hitting Lyric on the head. The blow hit Lyric on top of the forehead. Boosted by his first sign of success, Jamison threw a flurry of punches.
Despite Jamison’s intent to mix up his punches, Lyric made sure that all his shots hit Lyric in the same place, right on the top of his forehead. Lyric even ducked down so that body shots hit him in the head.
Looking confused and with hands that were bleeding and swore from hitting the hard skull of the boy, Jamison redoubled his efforts, throwing an overhand right that was meant to finish the fight.
Once again, the heavy blow struck Lyric, but not on the jaw or nose like Jamison had wanted. No, once more his fist landed on the top of Lyric’s head. A sickening crunching and snapping sound rang out into the night as Jamison’s wrist broke as his hand hit Lyric’s head.
Jamison fell to the ground, writhing in agony and holding his fist.
Christian and Brynn started to laugh. “That was the best fight I’ve ever witnessed,” swore Brynn. “Lyric won the fight without throwing a single punch!”
“Damn cheating foreigner needs to get his ass kicked,” swore Terrance. “You two had better stop laughing or you’ll get beat like a cur dog.”
“I’ve had enough of that kind of talk,” said Robert. He turned and knocked the loud mouth out with a hard right to the face. Robert stared at the rest of Jamison’s group of drunken thugs. “Anyone else want to insult my friends?”
With their ringleaders, Jamison and Terrance, on the ground and out of the fight, the other men suddenly didn’t have an advantage anymore. They swore at Lyric and walked away.
“Shall we have that drink now?” asked Christian. He was obviously enjoying the show.
Rober
t laughed. “Yes, let’s have a drink. Come on, Lyric, you’ve earned an ale. First rounds on me!”
As they entered the pub, they noticed that most of the patrons had gone home for the night. Only a few were left sipping ale at the bar with Blair. The group sat down and Blair walked over to greet them. Blair noticed blood on Lyric’s head, “You okay, Lyric?” he asked as he handed Lyric a rag.
“Don’t worry, Blair, it’s not his blood,” said an excited Brynn. “That’s Jamison’s blood.”
Lyric wiped his forehead. As Brynn predicted, the blood was not his own. Lyric had some slight swelling from Jamison’s fists repeatedly hitting him, but none of the blood was his own.
“Care to tell me how your forehead got covered in his blood?” asked Blair.
“Jamison tried to pick a fight with Lyric,” explained the still mad Celine. Lyric ducked and avoided his punches. But then Jamison insulted me.”
“So he beat him up with his head?” Blair frowned and looked at Lyric. “That’s not how I taught you to fight.”
“Maybe not,” said Robert, “but it was awfully effective. Once Lyric got mad, he started letting Jamison hit him in the head, but each blow hit Lyric on top of the head. Jamison’s hands took the worse of it. He probably has several broken knuckles to go along with a broken fist.”
“Yep,” chimed in Christian, “Lyric won the fight without throwing a single blow. Then Robert knocked out that loud mouth Terrance with a single punch.”
Blair looked at Lyric, “Why did you do that?”
Lyric, finally calm, shrugged his shoulders. “He made me mad when he insulted Celine, but he’s drunk and not very good at fighting. So I figured it was a way to make it a fair fight. Besides, you’re the one who taught me to tilt my head if a blow got past my guard.”
“I didn’t teach you to purposely let opponents hit your head, that’s too risky, even if they are hitting the forehead.” Blair shook his head. “Not very good at fighting? Jamison is probably the toughest man in the village, excluding Robert here.”
“Actually, I’ve fought him before, he beat me,” admitted Robert.
Lyric shrugged again. “He seemed so slow. After training with you, and Sir Robert, he didn’t offer much challenge.”
“You should have seen it, Blair,” said Brynn. “When Lyric got mad, his eyes seemed to get brighter and his muscles twitched a bit. Then he just started moving like a mad man. Jamison started swinging like crazy and I thought he was going to win until I realized what was going on. Before I even realized it, Jamison was on the ground holding his broken wrist. It was beautiful.”
Blair nodded, “I’d loved to have seen that.” Despite all his training with the boy, Lyric had never really shown an interest in fighting. He always seemed to be going through the motions, even the start of the fight with Lyric ducking punches was what Blair expected. That Lyric would get angry and outclass a respected fighter like Jamison, drunk or not, was surprising and pleasing to hear. Perhaps Lyric wasn’t as hopeless as he had feared. “Well, It sure sounds like an interesting night. How did the dancing go?”
“Terrible,” said Maddy.
Really?” asked Blair.
“Yes. Brynn crushed all of our feet,” confirmed Arria.
“For the love of the gods,” swore Brynn. “Step on one toe one time, and you never hear the end of it”
51
THE DRAGON DOVE DOWN INTO THE DEEP OCEAN and snatched its prey out of the waters. It then flew back up to the edge of the cliff, rejoining its companions.
“Tuna! Yummy,” said Ovalia. “You going to share that with us?”
Kemoth flashed a toothy grin, “Of course.” He then flipped the large fish on to the ground so his friends could share his meal.
“I love tuna, it’s not as tasty as grouper or a vorgun, but those small fish never fill you up,” said Leomaris.
“Vorgun are tasty but the bones always get stuck between my teeth,” complained Ovalia.
“True, but they are still so tasty. It’s worth the annoyance,” said Leomaris between mouthfuls of tuna.
“I wonder what deer or bear taste like?” said Ovalia.
“Yuck! Why would anyone want to eat an animal with fur? Rabbits are bad enough, I can’t image eating any but fish,” said Kemoth.
“I agree,” said Leomaris. “I love food. Why would I want to eat crappy four legged foods.”
“The old dragons like Nelarth swear by four legged foods. The way they talk about hunting elk, deer, bear, humans, and other things like vraber you’d think they don’t like fish at all,” said Ovalia.
“I think they’re just bitter that they had to come to the island. They think dragons would’ve won the war if we hadn’t come to the Island,” said Kemoth
“They certainly weren’t winning. We all know the stories. If Cadreinth hadn’t made a pact with that mage there might not be any dragons now. I doubt humans taste good, I think they just want revenge,” said Leomaris.
“Who cares, as long as Apophis is in charge no one will be allowed to eat humans, not that I would want to,” said Ovalia.
“Could you imagine eating a human and then bonding with their brother or sister? That would be the worst!” said Leomaris.
“Bonding with a human would be awful! I hope I never do,” said Ovalia.
“It doesn’t sound that bad,” said Kemoth. “Apophis says dragons that bond with humans enjoy the experience. It’s hard on them when humans die early but all like having a bond.”
“But they’d be able to know your thoughts. I can’t imagine what that would be like. It would be embarrassing,” said Ovalia.
“We already know what you’re thinking all the time, Ovalia,” said Kemoth.
“It’s true,” agreed Leomaris. Your scale tips change color when you’re embarrassed. They become almost pink when you’re embarrassed or laughing. When your sad they are dull red. When you are angry your tips are dark red, almost black. When you are really mad you snort fire.”
“What the hells, I’m not that transparent!” said Ovalia.
“Yes you are,” said Kemoth. “And if anyone knows your moods, it’s Leomaris. He’s always watching you.”
Leomaris flapped his wings and flew up and dropped on top of Kemoth. The two dragons wrestled and laughed. “You’re a traitor, Kemoth. You’re not supposed to side with girls.”
“I’m doing you a favor, Leomaris,” said Kemoth as he tried to wrestle the other young dragon off of him. “You’re too damn shy. You should have taken her fishing by yourself.”
“I’m sitting right here, you two twits. If you don’t stop wrestling and talking about me I am going to roast both of you!”
“We better stop,” said Kemoth. “She’d probably do it.”
“Yep, I bet she would probably eat us too,” said Leomaris. “But you know I’d taste better.”
“You both would taste gross! I’d feed you to the sharks, then I’d eat them.”
Kemoth and Leomaris stopped wrestling and instead sprawled out on the cliff top laughing.
Ovalia frowned at them, she contemplated giving them a quick burst of flame, but in the end, she ended up laughing with them. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know Leomaris fancied her, and Kemoth was correct. Leomaris was too shy.
52
SWEAT FORMED ON LYRIC’S BROW, the intense sparring session with Sibylle was the first for them since the Festiva. Sibylle’s family duties helping her father with their noble guests and visiting merchants had taken days. Now as they stood together in the hot afternoon sun, Lyric was exhausted.
The day’s training had started with Sir Robert’s grueling obstacle course. Lyric’s strength and condition were vastly improved and he no longer found the task difficult, but it still took a lot of energy to run around the grounds of Redfall, and they had started sparring right after finishing the challenging run.
Sir Robert smiled as he watched Lyric and Sibylle gasping for breath. “That’s a good day’s training, you can take
the rest of the afternoon off.”
Lyric smiled as he watched Sibylle drop her shield and sword to the ground. The practice weapon and shield were only wood, but they still were heavy to lift and hold during long sparring sessions.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” said Sibylle. “My shoulder is killing me. I’m so glad I’m not a soldier, having to carry one of those war shields around all day. It’s not like they are any good, anyway, you whupped me today!”
Sir Robert often had Lyric training against other weapons and fighting styles. Sibylle was passably good with a sword and shield, and rather good with two weapons. To train against the heavier weapons like war axes and hammers, Sir Robert or Blair would be Lyric’s sparring partner. While Sibylle was still superior in their sparring when using her staff, Lyric was now at a point where he could take the fight to her when she used other weapons. Today, he had handily defeated her. The first such time where he truly knew he was better than her. The heavy shield and sword combination might be the most important in warfare, but in one on one tournament style fighting, it had disadvantages. A well-trained staff user could stand back and use speed and distance to create openings, while the shield and sword user needed to be in close rank to score hits. Lyric had found a weakness in Sibylle’s shield defense and exploited it.
Lyric grinned at Sibylle’s acknowledgment of his sparring win. They didn’t come often He knew how she disliked losing, even with weapons she rarely trained with. “Thanks, I’ve never noticed that you have a hard time with overhead shield blocks until today.”
“Jerk, I knew you were doing that on purpose. The damn shield is too heavy for me. From now on, you can spar with Robert or Blair with shield.”
Lyric laughed, she truly hated losing.
“Are you going to tell me about the fight?” asked Sibylle once Sir Robert had walked away, leaving them alone.
Lyric picked a tree to sit against, and lowered himself to the ground. “You heard about that?”
“Lyric, the entire village heard about it. Even Sir Robert and Father were talking about it. Jamison has a broken wrist and three broken knuckles. Terrance has a black eye from Robert James knocking him out. What was that all about?”
Lyric's Curse (Dragonblood Sagas Book 1) Page 22