The Dragons' Chosen

by Gwen Dandridge

  Chapter 32

  I refused any discourse with the man-dragons the remainder of that day and the next afternoon. Meals were delivered by one or another of them. Chris received them, silencing any discussion from our captors. By that second evening, I had a plan. I started down the cold stone stairs, back to where they milled around awaiting my presence. Chris joined me before I was halfway there. We finished descending the stairs in silence.

  “I’m ready for us to move forward.”

  Five heads spun toward me and five chins lifted with interest. Since I had refused to return with them, the man-dragons had seemed conflicted about how to proceed. My stand had spread discord among them; I could see bruises on Hugh’s right cheek and Rauf’s lip was puffed. The walls were scorched from the aftermath of dragon fire. Factions were forming, then fissuring. Piers, James and even Tristan seemed sympathetic to my situation, as if they too were ill at ease. Hugh and Rauf I couldn’t read.

  As though putting a foot in an icy stream, I edged into my discourse, one toe at a time, my smile hiding both my anxiety and my fury.

  I lowered my voice and peered up through my lashes at them. “I’ve selected the challenges for you.” When logic and force failed, honey, as my mother had said, could be a powerful draw.

  I attempted to project a look that was both girlish and regal. “It will help me make a well-formed decision as to whom I shall marry.”

  My apprehension I hid beneath a coquettish smile. It wouldn’t do to approach this forcefully; I needed to win them over, so they would want to oblige me. I wished for a fan to hide any doubt that might show on my face.

  I caught Tristan watching me and shaking his head. After our last encounter, he must think me a shrew. I turned my head to cover my blush and noticed Hugh watching Chris, or rather Chris’s chest. Perhaps he was evaluating the tantalizing words written across today’s chemise front, “Warning: I have an attitude, and I do know how to use it.” The chemise was a bit revealing. Well, more than a bit.

  Gathering my courage, I forged ahead. “Let us begin anew. This situation is not of your making. Perhaps you also have some discontent with how this came to be.” I fluttered my eyelashes, enough to let the men feel manly.

  “You’re overdoing it.” Chris leaned toward me and whispered. “Hugh is looking at you like a wolf at a tethered goat.”

  I kept my eyes from him. What would Chris know of such things? But I focused on the others and adjusted my lines of persuasion.

  “Not that I agree with what’s been done,” I amended. “But can’t we move forward, create a resolution—one in which each of us is satisfied?” They looked at one another, their tension radiating from some unspoken decision. A chill jabbed at my heart. Something was up. My pretense was failing, my push to cheery assurance slipping like water through my hands. I unlocked my fingers and forced my arms to my sides in an effort to appear relaxed.

  “We need to begin, as you have indicated, as quickly as possible.” At their blank looks, I started again, trying to assert control. “One of you must wed a human princess, and I agree to this. But there is a caveat. I will choose which one.” I took in a breath, then continued. “I’ve decided how best to gather information. One, we will have a sword display so I can see you fight. Two, each of you will play chess—against me. And three, each of you will be asked to bring me the perfect gift.”

  Hugh’s sardonic voice interfered with my declaration. “And if we choose not to play but simply take you back to our kingdom as the treaty allows? Or do you prefer that we break our part of the treaty?”

  Fear flashed in my chest. Would my world then be at risk?

  Check.

  I was losing control. I revised my tactics, to spin it on its axis.

  I lifted my chin. “No, we both keep our ends of the treaty. But with my rules. Otherwise, though you have a princess, you have one who seeks to undermine you the rest of your life. Is that your wish? Or do you want someone who will support you, raise your children and stand by your side?” I strained to keep my face composed.

  They furrowed their brows in the face of the changes in my demeanor. Tristan and James flashed a short look between them before studiously staring at the floor. Rauf looked contemplative. I felt my blood chill.

  Hugh lowered his eyes before looking back at me with a wolfish grin. “Perhaps it makes no great difference to us.” There it was. They had talked, made a decision. My options had dwindled.

  Check again.

  The other four men were now at attention, their gaze flicking back and forth between Hugh and me. I stared ahead while searching for the right thing to say. I could think of nothing. I swallowed. All my hopes of succeeding with reason, flattery and winsome looks sank like a stone, without a single bubble to mark their departure.

  I was losing. My ears roared with noise. I couldn’t think.

  From somewhere I heard James say, “Don’t push her.”

  Hugh shrugged, “We’re leaving today, Genevieve. You need to concede at least to this, for your own good and the good of our worlds. We’ve waited, hoping that you would take a rational approach to your destiny.” He smiled at me. “It’s over. The game is ended. We leave within the hour—with you.”

  His last words rang in my head like a funeral bell.

  This was not a game of honor, but one where I embodied the spoils of war, the carrion-crow pickings after a battle. I stood there in shock. Tristan continued staring at the floor, as if unwilling to acknowledge what was happening. Rauf and Piers flanked the far wall like ship scavengers waiting for the plunder to wash up with the tide.

  They had been planning this, watching me, amused and sly. No power, no choice. Chris was right; they saw me as a broodmare, not a princess. The imprisoning weight of the caves closed in on me, leaching my thoughts, my strength.

  I had but one move left. I pulled my knife free, Tristan’s knife, and pushed it against my wrist, ignoring the sharp intake of breath around me. “I’ll not be taken this way, as a trophy, a prized catch. That will not happen.”

  Behind me, Chris gasped, “Oh my god.”

  Hugh started forward as if to grab me and, in my panic, I pressed the knife in sharply. Pain flared at my wrist and blood oozed across my hand. “Don’t come closer.” I spoke slowly, trying to keep my voice from wavering. “I was willing to die for my land, willing to marry for my land. But know you, I will choose death before the dishonor of being taken by force.”

  I watched Hugh while keeping a rocky ledge between us. All eyes were on me. No one moved. I didn’t wish to die. I wanted to live, to marry. But not this way, not in a union with no honor. My head throbbed in beat to the sharp pain in my wrist. Could I do this? I didn’t know. I had to make them believe that I would, and the only way I could do so was to believe it myself.

  When I next spoke, it was with the despondency, despair, and anger that had accumulated for the past two months. After all I had gone through, it was over. I might die here in this echoing cave by my own hand.

  My breath caught in my throat as I struggled to make my stand clear. “Perhaps you could stop me now, wrest this from my hand before I do too much damage to myself—or perhaps not.” My body trembled, and I steeled myself, tightening my grip on the knife. “I will not be dragged off as anyone’s foray plunder. Eventually, I will end this.” There was silence for many heartbeats. Chris didn’t move. Even her energy was stilled during this standoff.

  No one breathed. Must I sacrifice the queen to win the game? Or would they bend to my wish? Death had no appeal for me, but life as a pawn had less.

  James whispered then, “Just like Penelope.”

  Hugh spoke, his voice just above a whisper. “Be quiet, James. She’s bluffing.” He took a half step toward me. “Come, give it up. Don’t damage your pretty arm to make a point.” But his lips were white against his skin.

  I pushed again, steeling myself against the pain, against my own regret. Blood dripped to the ground. “Stand away. Remember, because of y
our actions, I’ve already faced my death. No. Here is where I stand. No more, no more.” Hugh took another careful step. I pushed the knife deeper into the tender inside of my wrist. Warm blood pulsed across my hand. My eyes glazed with the pain and the men looked like statues ’neath the rock that surrounded us.

  “Do you truly wish me dead? Are you so arrogant that you will take that risk? Accept it as a truth, I won’t go with you as your trophy.” My hand felt like ice.

  Please, please, don’t push me to this, I don’t wish to die here. Please, I don’t know if I can do this, but I will not be dishonored. Not be taken captive by men for whom honor is but a word.

  My fingers were locked around the hilt of the knife. My breath caught in my throat; my blood pounded at my wrist and throat. The drip became a trickle that I heard as it fell on stone.

  From across the room, Tristan spoke. “Peace,” he said. Hugh’s head snapped up, turning at Tristan’s word. A look, a world of information, passed between those two, a slash of something that I couldn’t read. Tristan eyes flamed and Hugh’s face changed from rage to something akin to grudging acceptance before it solidified into a mask of ice.

  “My brother, we can’t lose her this way.” My breath came in gasps as Tristan continued to speak. “A few days, one handful, we can still safely return by foot. If we have to fly her out, we will. Let that be the consequence. She is to be wife to one of us, possibly our queen. Let us start now respecting her word.”

  Hugh gave a single nod.

  Then, as if nothing had happened, as if he and I were the only ones who existed, Tristan slowly stepped toward me, locking his eyes with mine and holding out his hand as if to ward off my death. “No one is going to force you, Princess. Release the knife. No one here wishes you harm. It will be as you say. We will abide by your rules.” He stopped motionless about four body lengths from me, his eyes holding mine, tying me to the earth, to life.

  Through my pain and fear, I saw the others bow their heads in agreement. Hugh said nothing, then he, too, nodded in agreement. “As the storms hold, we will wait.”

  My voice quavered. “Then I may choose?” I felt my head getting light.

  Tristan nodded. He crossed to my side, gently extracting the knife from my clenched fingers as he wrapped his other hand over my wrist to staunch the flow of blood.

  And then I did faint.

  Chapter 33

  When I came back to myself, the evening was well advanced.

  Chris and I were outside under a sky lit with stars that dazzled. Coals banked against the mountainside reflected heat onto my face. Our eyes met and I saw tears welling in hers.

  She brushed them aside. “What did you think you were doing? Killing yourself isn’t an answer. I mean, then you’re dead.”

  She fixed me with her gaze. “Would you truly have done it, killed yourself?”

  I remained silent for some time, looking inward for the truth. “I don’t know. I truly don’t.”

  Chris pressed her hands against her forehead as if in pain. “Just when I think I understand where you’re coming from, you do something else to confuse me. That was an incredibly stupid trick.” She peeked through her fingers. “I can’t believe you did that! What if they hadn’t agreed?”

  My wrist burned beneath the wrap that bound it. Bile churned in me as I remembered the blood. I wasn’t sure what I had intended when I threw down that gauntlet other than to prevent them from going forward with their plans for me.

  “I believe myself honorable, one who does her duty no matter how distasteful. It’s how I was reared, why I came here as the sacrifice. There is no honor in men dragging me away to a marriage. For what would my sacrifice be?” I pushed myself up until I was facing the moon, letting its soft glow caress my skin. “For me, my obligation was met once I was tied to that post.”

  I held out my hand, palm upward.

  “My mother taught me that power was not a favor to be snatched away by a greedy hand.” I looked her in the eye. “The treaty allows me to select a spouse. I couldn’t let these men callously decide my fate.”

  Chris stared back. “Wow. I guess all families are the same. My nana used to harp on something like that, obligation, duty, and personal power.” Tossing and catching a rock over and over, she opened her mouth to speak and then seemed to reconsider. A single lost cloud crossed above and hid the moon, changing the light from the warmth of silver to the gold of the reflected embers.

  With a shake, Chris roused herself from her reverie.

  “So now what? We go home?” she asked with a wistful smile.

  I shook my head and held out my hand. “Now I choose a husband.”

  ---

  The following day was a reprieve. In order to stay, we needed supplies. Two of the men hunted for game. The other three set to make our lodging more comfortable, collecting wood and building up a large fire for warmth.

  All of them watched the sky as if anticipating storms, but the horizon remained clear. Unless the weather changed, I was safe. They conceded six days, five for me to select a mate. But upon the sixth I must choose.

  At our morning meal, Hugh made one last attempt to persuade me. “We already know who is the best with a sword,” he said. “We can save you the trouble.”

  I politely restated my intent to see it through. He bowed and moved back to stoking the fire, perhaps unwilling to face Chris glowering by my side.

  I remained ill at ease, unable to settle. Their presence reminded me of what I had gone through, of Tom Mastin’s threats to Chris, of the long frightening journey here and of my first sight of the five dragons flying overhead. I shivered uncontrollably before I recovered myself.

  Nevertheless, I moved forward with my plan. To wed a dragon, a beast.

  Tristan stayed far from me, first off hunting with Rauf and then engaged in conversations with James and Piers. In fact, since he had staunched my wound, he seldom spoke to me. Perhaps he was catering to Hugh’s authority. Or maybe he simply didn’t like me. A handful of tears fell. I brushed them away. I couldn’t linger on this. It wasn’t helpful.

  The sun’s arc had passed its zenith. Chris and I sat on a stone seat beneath a blue and white sky, watching the men.

  Now that the boundaries were clearly defined, they treated both Chris and me with gallant deference, standing up when either of us entered their presence, waiting to eat until we were seated, drawing us into polite conversations. Nothing happened that I could point to and say, dragon.

  But in the back of my mind, and locked in tightly, I knew what they were and that they had tricked me.

  I took a breath in and tried to release my anger, to hold myself to the same standards I expected of them. I wasn’t sure I could quite yet.

  James, stammering with embarrassment, drew me aside and spoke of his love back home. A lady dragon from a nearby town had stolen his heart. He begged my forgiveness but declared he could not compete for my hand.

  How interesting, marrying for love. I wondered what his parents thought of this. I couldn’t but wish him well. “Thank you for your honesty. While I regret your decision, I wish you and your lady every happiness.”

  He looked so relieved that I almost didn’t register his next words. “Sadly, this leaves you only three to vie for your hand.”

  “Three?”

  “I doubt Tristan will enter the contests. He wouldn’t want to saddle any woman with his affliction, especially not a human bride.”

  My voice trembled. “What affliction?”

  He shrugged. “Since the age of twelve, Tristan turns pure dragon in the winter months, for as long as the snow falls. That’s why he led the search for you this summer. He knows how important it is to marry outside our people.”

  I felt my face pale. Tristan. That was why he was avoiding me.

  --

  Tristan sought me out before the moon eclipsed the lower hills. He held himself tall and straight. His face set in the way I’d come to understand indicated discomfort. “My Lady.�
�

  My face felt set also. I knew what he was going to say. He would refuse to offer for me. I lifted my chin so he didn’t think I was some chit whose emotions ruled her.

  “James said he told you.”

  “Yes.”

  He looked away for a moment, then faced me again. “I’m sorry you had to hear it that way. I wished to tell you myself.”

  “No matter.”

  He seemed about to say something else, perhaps to explain, but my pride could take no more.

  I nodded my head in dismissal and walked away.

  Chapter 34

  That night I lingered in that misty space between wakefulness and sleep, replaying the day’s events, evaluating each of the men, trying, unsuccessfully, not to think of Tristan, when I stiffened at a sound.

  Scritch, scritch.

  I had almost fallen back asleep when something rancid wafted across my nose, the smell of vermin or decay. I was questioning my own hygiene when the noise came again, a soft snuffling noise and the scratch of claws against a hard surface. I raised my head, listening.

  These caves were never silent; water dripped and flowed, and any noise at all reverberated, echoing off hard stone surfaces. In the early mornings, nesting bats chittered to their young. The man-dragons clomped across the stone corridors, the empty spaces repeating their footfalls and voices as they called back and forth, infiltrating my dreams with their racket. All these I had heard before.

  This was new. Not a noise to which I was accustomed.

  I almost convinced myself that I was making an acorn into an oak when I heard raspy breathing. Chris stirred restlessly in her sleep, flinging out an arm. The noise stopped. I strained, listening into the black of the cave, holding my breath. Was something there?

  Under the cover of my blanket, I searched for my knife. Tristan’s knife. At least he hadn’t asked to have it returned. Another scurrying sound and the stink of fetid meat and rot grew stronger. My finger wrapped around the knife’s handle. Then I recalled I had smelled this before, when Chris and I first came into the caves. I struggled to keep my breath steady even as I inched my other hand out from my blanket, feeling for Chris’s magic fire sticks. I heard a low guttural sound and the click of nails to my right. Something was in the cave room with us.