Chapter 40
After a spate of fitful rain, I walked outside, breathing in the moisture-laden air as I stared off to the west where my family was. I longed to see them again and to comfort them with the knowledge that I was still alive. Puddles of rainwater dotted the ground. The trees drooped with moisture not yet removed by the sun or wind. I too felt laden.
I missed my companions from our journey here—Lucinda, Michael and all my father’s men. I wondered how they were. The burden of guilt undoubtedly rode them.
I must have been lost in my thoughts as I didn’t hear Chris join me; she wasn’t known for her silence.
She sat quietly, throwing stones into the puddles, watching them splash before they sank. “So now that the first contest is over, has anyone risen to the top of your list?”
Her eyebrows scrunched down. “Tristan’s first with the sword. Is that what you hoped for, or are you still opposed to him?”
I deflected her question. “It will take more than skill with weaponry for me to choose a husband.”
She continued with the roster of names. “So Hugh, Rauf and Piers are still in the race?”
I heard her linger as she spoke Hugh’s name and I couldn’t quite make my eyes meet hers. “It’s not only about who wins. It’s never been about that.”
Chris’s mouth twisted in disbelief.
“At first, it was a way to take back control, to take back my life.”
“And now?”
“It came from a conversation with my parents. Father said he could tell more about men within a few minutes on a battlefield than months of watching them in court, how they fight, how they strategize.”
“My mother added, ‘And how they treat their loved ones.’ The contests are also about how they respond, not solely who wins. It is about how they behave toward each other and to us. So yes, the contests count. But so does every time we speak with them.”
Chris grunted, clearly not impressed with my logic. Something else must have been on her mind.
She continued flipping stones. “Do you think Hugh is okay with this? I mean, he came here planning to marry and all.”
Ah, so that was it—Hugh. I asked the question wanting to see where the wind was blowing. “Are you inclined toward Hugh?”
Chris was silent, staring at a stone that lay quiet in her hand. I felt a tension that stretched out into the desolate landscape below. “No, don’t be silly. I can’t live in a fantasy world forever. My life is in Berkeley. I want to make a difference in the world, to make something of myself.”
“Is that what this is to you, a fantasy world?”
She bit her lip and hurled the stone into the water. It sank, as had all the others.
“No, don’t reply. I don’t wish to hear it. Chris, you’ve made a difference to me. I value you: as a counselor, as a friend, as someone who has changed my life.”
She folded her arms over her head. “I don’t know what to think anymore. This all can’t be real, but then it is. I know it is.”
I interlaced my fingers. “Truly, that’s how I have felt since I was chosen and all the way here. That I would wake and it would be but a bad dream.”
She lifted her head. “Dang. I was so hoping it was at first and now…now I’m not sure I want to wake up.”
I nodded. “It’s changed, hasn’t it? Nothing is as it seemed.”
“And Tristan? Is his dragon-stuckness still playing into your decision?”
“Yes, but more than that. Hugh was right; I was raised to be queen, to rule. I’ve been trained since I was two to understand my duty. I can’t throw away what I am.”
“So is that how you’re going to decide, the contests be damned? Are you just going to choose based on a title?”
“No, I feel that this must play out, all of it. But it is a part, something to be considered.”
The stone tossing started up again.
“Do you mean to date any of them as part of the contests?”
My brows furrowed. “Date? As in, ask when they were born?”
“No, date as in spending time with them individually. Maybe a kiss or two, whatever.”
I would have thought my expression of shock would have let her know what I thought of that idea, but she wasn’t watching me. Her eyes had a dreamy, far-off look. I could see her contemplating the idea.
“Wow, dating a dragon! How liberating.” She looked at me with interest. “Prejudice is so old-world, don’t you think?”
I thought back, remembering her earlier comments. Her words were alien, as always, but the meaning was clear.
“Ah, Chris. Remember what you said about dragonette carriers?”
She shook her head dismissively. “Not an issue. I’m on birth control.” She sneaked a look in my direction, perhaps remembering that, save James, they were all my suitors. “Not that I would do such a thing, of course. Or that I’m interested or anything. Just an observation, nothing personal.” I watched her face glow as she dissembled.
Chris plodded verbally on, hiding her red face with a turn of her head. “But I’ve been thinking. We need to ask the men some questions, pointed questions. You’ve agreed to marry, but we know little about them, their culture, their country, only what little they tell us. Sure, they implied their women rule. Who knows what that really means? Maybe they shroud their women in black or don’t let them vote or, I don’t know…bind their feet or clip their wings. Most especially, we need to ask about all the chosen princesses.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
--
During our evening meal, I casually inserted a question into our conversation. “I know so little of your land. Tell me about it.”
Rauf answered first. “What do you wish to know, My Lady? It is nothing like this.” He spread his hand indicating the rough stone table where we sat. “Our country is large, broad enough that it takes a full three days of flight to traverse it from mountain to sea. Plenty of hunting grounds, fertile crop land, streams in which to fish and forests filled with game.”
James interrupted. “That’s not what she is asking. She wants to know about the courts, the castles, where she will live.”
Hugh looked up. “The land is divided into five dukedoms administered by the princes of Pritorous. Each region has a council where a person from each township has a seat, a way for me to hear the needs of my people. Once a year a meeting is held with all the dukes.”
I nodded and was about to ask a more pressing question when Chris spoke. “What about your women? What is their place in your society? How are they treated?”
Rauf stepped in. “We are part dragon and like lovely things. Beautiful ladies, for example.” He grinned at me. “And like all treasures, they are handled carefully.” He dallied over the words, making them into a caress.
I blushed.
Piers snorted. “You know what Mother would say to that.”
Chris looked at him, all attention. “What would she say?”
Piers grinned. “That he had better modify his ways or no woman will accept him. Mother rules our castle since our father’s passing.”
Rauf grinned back, nodding, “Yes, my aunt would see me properly chastised. A fine, strong woman, your mother; silver-blue scales and the hottest flame in seven leagues.”
I ventured a further question. “I am curious about the other chosen princesses. For instance, what happened to Penelope? You mentioned her name before.”
James looked up, blinking into the shadows that danced beyond the flickering torches. “She was our eighth princess. When our people came in dragon form, she fled. Fell from a cliff and broke her neck.”
I felt blood rush from my face and Chris gasped in horror. Across the table, Hugh and Rauf stilled.
James shook his head. “There was no bride that century. Such a waste. After that, the rules were amended to have the princess sedated and secured. For her own safety. No one could bear to be responsible for the loss of life.”
Chris stood up, hands c
lenched. “That’s barbaric. You continued this practice after someone died?”
I spoke through white lips. “A princess’s death was but a mistake to be shrugged off as a casualty of circumstance?”
James breached the silence that ensued. “No. It wasn’t like that. You don’t understand. The princesses are treasured. Our human survival depends on them. These marriages are venerated as the symbol of our commemoration to life and our future.”
“They don’t sound like happy marriages to me.”
“That is not true. There have been many happy and prosperous marriages resulting from these arrangements,” Hugh countered.
Chris raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, our chosen women are well-respected. Many of them control land and wield power of their own,” Hugh insisted.
I looked from one to the other. Was this true? Women having individual power, not just being the hand behind the throne? As Hugh’s queen, I would have respect and power. Decisions would bear my stamp.
If I were with Rauf, or Piers, I would be but a duchess with lands—and if Tristan were my husband, the same, but alone for much of the year.
No, and though my chest ached, I pushed that last possibility away. Hugh was the best choice for me. I spared a quick look Tristan’s way. He was watching me, not saying a word through all this discussion. Could he see my thoughts writ upon my face?
Someone coughed and I brought myself back to the conversation, hoping I hadn’t missed much.
Rauf agreed. “True. There were ballads composed about the love between Anisette and Kester.”
Piers looked thoughtful as he added, “And Rosalind, we have many portraits of her. She always looked happy and smiling, beaming at her husband and four children.”
Rauf interjected, “Don’t forget Sophia—she reigned after King Ranulf died. Every year she held a festival where couples were married right in the castle courtyard. It is written that she did so in hopes that others would experience the joy that she had in her marriage.”
James nodded and then stated, “All true. Wonderful marriages—except for two noteworthy failures: Elsbeth and Victoria.”
Hugh snapped his head around with a low growl but James lumbered on, spilling forth his thoughts, as earnest as always. “Not much is known about Elsbeth. She was chosen five hundred years ago. The history books say that she never really recovered after her selection.”
Piers and Rauf tried to get James’s attention. This was something they didn’t want told. He ignored them, obviously lost in story-telling mode.
“Some say her mind snapped. Perhaps she wasn’t particularly sound mentally before she was chosen. Still, Justin honored the agreement and made her his queen. I’m sure it was a cheerless arrangement. She bore King Justin two children, but she was never well. The courtiers’ journals from that time say that Elsbeth screamed and fainted when she saw anyone in dragon form. King Justin had her protected, confined, keeping her from anything that might cause her distress. The accounts imply she was held almost as a prisoner.”
I listened, struck by the bleakness of Elsbeth’s life.
“That last day, ’tis said she eluded her guards, said goodbye to her children, walked out of the nursery and jumped from the top portico of the castle.
“There’s a statue in the central plaza of her. Shows her with wings. She’s hailed as a martyr by some, a sad fool by others.”
I shuddered at the image. Chris leaned forward, eager to hear more.
Hugh shifted as if moving to stop James from continuing, but Tristan placed a hand on his arm. “No, let him speak. They have a right to know both the good and the bad.” So intent was James on his story that he didn’t even notice.
“Victoria, though, well, she was our last human queen. Only eighty-one years ago. Stories and mystery abound about her. Pregnant queens do not just disappear.”
He was telling the tale of my great-aunt Victoria. I sat unmoving. “She was pregnant?”
“Yes, with her third child. Two young children left behind; the eldest was our grandmother.
“She and King Leith were like fire and oil. Both hotheaded. By all accounts, Victoria was not a woman easily cowed. According to her journals, she felt betrayed and coerced. Leith may not have made enough of an effort to make her life easier. There were rumors that she had left a lover back in your country. Once she was chosen, there was no going back. King Leith was a proud man. A man accustomed to getting his way. Though I suspect he must have felt guilty for years.”
I didn’t understand. “But where did she go? Was she lost in the mountains trying to return to her home? Didn’t your people look for her?”
“Oh, they searched. But one of the golden cards of magic vanished. It was believed she took it and traveled to a distant land on its power. Whatever the true story, at least one of the four golden cards did disappear with her going.”
My eyes opened wide but I managed not to gasp. Chris had been speaking quietly with Hugh, but at James’s words she turned, looking first at me and then back to Hugh. Her voice wavered, “What’s this about a golden card?”
Chapter 41
She and I excused ourselves and abruptly left, claiming female needs. Now Chris sat cross-legged on the stone floor holding out her card as if it were carrion. “It can’t mean that. It’s simply not possible. My folks came over from Scotland, not some weird country with dragons!”
Across the cavern, Hugh was speaking to James, apparently chastising him. The others gathered nearby.
I shook my head. “Chris, this makes sense. Your great-grandmother, Ria, was the last chosen princess.” I searched for some comfort to hand Chris. “She must have been very brave.”
“But don’t you see?” Chris’s voice rose in a panicked whisper, with many furtive glances toward her newest kinsmen. “She only had one child—my grandfather. They’re saying Nana was pregnant when she left, bearing a half-dragon.”
She waited for me to say the obvious. Her great-grandmother had not one but three children, two of whom she left with the dragons. The last child, Chris’s grandfather, was conceived before Victoria left the dragons. Chris was kin, distant cousins, to these men. I held my tongue. She already knew. It wouldn’t do to hold her fingers to the fire.
She looked at me, her face white. “Why didn’t I see it before? Ria is short for Victoria. I’m not even fully human, I’m part dragon—part imaginary reptile.” Her voice skirted the edge of hysteria. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
I took her hand and held it tightly. “Well, yes. But Chris, Victoria was my grandmother’s sister, so you are also part of my family.” I looked into her eyes, darkened almost to a slate gray, willing her to know that it made no difference to me that she had dragon blood.
As I held her hand, I struggled internally. It was the truth. It didn’t make a difference to me. Even in the farthest recesses of my mind, I no longer saw man-dragons as something monstrous.
I understood it clearly then. “That’s why she sent you. You belong to both worlds. She wanted you to make a difference, to bridge these two cultures. She believed that you could. Or at least wanted you to have the chance.”
A tear made its way down her face. I wrapped my arms about her shoulders as she wept. Something inside me rippled a small wave of emotion that gathered force as I reflected about man-dragons, about Chris, about Tristan, about differences.
Chapter 42
I sat before the chessboard and faced Piers, who nodded back cheerfully. “White or black?”
Time was running out for me to select a husband. My fourth day. The most important decision of my life, and my parents weren’t here to advise me. Nor were the councilors of our country here to list the advantages and disadvantages of each suitor. There was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be happy with someone who wasn’t a strong leader. I needed someone with backbone, but not inflexible; a razor-sharp mind, but compassionate. Someone who would govern wisely. Someone people would foll
ow. Chris wasn’t much help. Though no longer distraught, she still wrestled with her dragon heritage, both drawn to and repulsed by who she was. I had agreed not to say anything; she needed her own time to tell them.
What did I need most? A mate or a crown, power or compatibility? If Hugh was right for me, I would have them all.
Piers did not suit. I already knew this. There was a sweetness to him that inspired protectiveness, but he was so young, my sister’s age or just older. Untried.
Three of the men sat sprawled across the rocky landscape, curious, intent.
Piers gazed at the board as if searching for some mystery there. He was not a chess player.
“Um, Piers, it’s your turn.”
He flushed. “Oh, of course.” He stopped then, his hand draped over the table and lowered his voice. “You should pick me.”
I looked at him sharply. “I beg your pardon?” The other men looked over at us, wondering what was going on.
“I’m closest to your age. We would be a good match.”
I stuttered for a moment before regaining my voice. “I’m flattered that you think so. You might be right.” I smiled at him again. “Certainly, any woman would be proud to have you at her side, whether as a friend or a mate.” Then I sighed. “But this isn’t only for me, it’s for your country as well. I have to be fair and evaluate each of you. Don’t you agree?”
He nodded sagely and moved his rook one space. “Hugh’s hot tempered, Rauf’s bull-headed and Tristan’s too cautious. I’m the fun one.” He grinned as he sized up my reaction. “We’d make a great couple.”
I smiled, taking care not to react too strongly, and then I attacked his queen.
Mercifully, it was over quickly. I thanked him and walked outside for some fresh air. I picked my way past the short white mountain flowers—“stomach flowers” my sister had called them, as the only way to see them clearly was to lie flat upon the ground. I thought about the dragons’ lands and how different life there would be for me. The men spoke of the power held by women, of women rulers even. I feared I was beginning to think like Chris. It definitely had an appeal.
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