The Dragons' Chosen

by Gwen Dandridge

  There was silence among the men. I had promised, promised to decide on this day.

  Rauf moved restlessly. “What about the treaty? Who have you chosen?”

  I looked at him in disbelief. “That has to wait. My parents will think Harold dead. War between our two kingdoms will result. Bloodshed. Perhaps years of conflict. Can’t you see that this is much more important than whom I marry?”

  Rauf got a stubborn set to his mouth. “Naturally, but you could still choose. You must have decided by now.”

  Piers stood by his side. “No one has ever returned after they were chosen. Not in the history of our land. And now that your brother knows that we are man-dragons, he also cannot return.”

  Hugh’s back was straight, his brows lowered in anger, all softness gone. “He’s wrong. Your brother must go back. All these centuries that we protected our land by keeping it hidden and inaccessible are now undone. Rauf, you have destroyed our isolation by the careless strokes of your wings.”

  Chris looked at Hugh before speaking. “Is this such a bad thing? Is change so hard for you? Doing the right thing?”

  For the longest time they looked at one another, oblivious to the heated discussion that raged about them—I, defending my decision to return with Harold. Piers and Rauf insisting that I choose. My attention was torn, so I didn’t see his intention until Hugh stepped forward. He placed his hand beneath Chris’s chin, lifting it up to place a gentle kiss upon her lips.

  There was silence as if in church. Chris looked too stunned to speak, her mouth half open as if she had been cut off in mid-argument. James looked unsurprised. Rauf looked on with glee—one more suitor out of the running. Piers turned to Rauf, asking what had just happened. Tristan seemed deep in thought.

  Chris still didn’t move, standing as if tied to the ocher stone beneath us.

  Hugh turned and walked over to the presents that lay next to me. He picked up the ring, turning it around and around in his hand. He looked through me, as if I were made of gossamer lace, and seemed to come to some determination. “I’ll help ease your choice, Princess,” he said, staring out at the setting sun. He was outlined in light, by the sun moving down the mountain, its last rays striking his hair and creating a nimbus around his head. “One less for you to choose from.” He turned then, placed the ring in Chris’s startled hand, and walked off.

  Chris stood as if a statue, hand curled around the ring.

  I prodded her. “Go, go after him.”

  She blinked twice and then stumbled off toward the tall trees where Hugh was disappearing.

  Relief whirled though my mind now that this choice was removed, and I only felt joy for them both. No matter his political appeal, Hugh had never been for me. Somehow I’d known that all along.

  Everything seemed to move too fast then. Chris was gone after Hugh. Tristan looked at me, watching my reaction. Harold bounced around like the half-grown pup he was.

  It took only a moment before Rauf leapt back to his insistence that I make a decision.

  His attitude was tiresome.

  Piers and James seemed to feel the same, as I saw them roll their eyes at his persistence. James commented to Rauf almost below his breath, “If you hadn’t dragged the king’s heir to the Crystal caves, we wouldn’t be facing this crisis, would we?”

  I nodded, happy that someone else could see this from my point of view. Then I realized what this meant. “Wait! You’ve broken the contract. I’m no longer bound. I don’t have to make a choice. I can do as I wish—and I wish to be taken home.”

  Harold sidled over to me, placing his hand in mine, a small furrow of worry crossing his brow. It must have occurred to him that Mother and Father were likely to be upset despite his note.

  Rauf’s head drew up. “No. This affects nothing. You are still bound by the contract.”

  I stared him down, not willing to let this become a shouting match—but he was wrong. Tristan spoke up. “No, you stole the heir to her land, an act of war.”

  No treaty would withstand that. Our contract was broken.

  James sighed. “Rauf, she’s right. This was not well done.”

  Furious that his gift, his hard-won gift, was his own undoing, Rauf snarled, “Since my gift is of no value, I will take your brother back. A few days’ rest, and I will be completely restored to make the journey again.”

  I ignored him. I had neither time nor patience for his bluster. Things had changed too fast for me. I held Harold’s hand tightly in mine.

  Braced with my knowledge, I confronted Rauf. “I’ll not send him back without me. He’s barely eight. It’s too dangerous. Harold is so small he would be easily overlooked. If my people saw a dragon now, they would shoot their arrows first, and never notice a small boy.”

  I could feel Harold quiver with indignation at being called small. Two steps behind him, Tristan stood staring at the horizon where Hugh and Chris had disappeared. He leaned forward and whispered to James. James nodded and shrugged.

  Tristan shifted uncomfortably. “Genevieve is right. She should be returned.”

  All heads turned.

  “James and I could leave within the hour carrying both Genevieve and Harold. We could have them back before dawn. Our night vision is sufficient for such a thing.”

  I gasped, as did both Piers and Rauf.

  Rauf said, “Return the princess? You would compromise our secrecy? Put our land at risk?”

  Tristan spoke then. “It’s already done. By taking Genevieve’s brother, you have exposed us. The heir apparent must be returned. Taking him was a blunder. Keeping him would be an act of war.”

  James came forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Tristan. “It may be that by traveling by night we won’t be seen when we change to human. But if we are, then perhaps it is time to reconsider our secrecy, to parlay with the Verdeux king.”

  Tristan nodded, continuing. “It is time we revisit these traditions. It may not be in our best interest to continue in isolation.

  “This is something Hugh and I have been discussing. It is time to reevaluate these rules. This is Hugh’s decision; he is king. When Hugh returns, we will have a meeting of the council.” Tristan looked at his kinsmen, getting a nod or head shake from each. Even Rauf, after some muttering, slowly nodded.

  He turned to me then. “If Hugh agrees, you would have to travel in the sky.”

  I blanched. Riding a dragon? I hated heights, hated the thought of not having my feet on the ground. I thought of how ill I got even near the edge of a mountain. Then I thought of Tristan, of touching body to body, of the warmth of his hand on mine. I willed my heartbeat to slow as I attempted to speak. I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

  Rauf pointed off in the distance toward Hugh and Chris. “Why can’t she return with the boy instead of Genevieve?”

  I stood up, my head forcing the words out one by one. “No. It has to be me who takes Harold back to my father. Even if Chris traveled as a human, they would deem her a witch in league with the dragons. My countrymen would shoot before she had time to explain. It has to be me. No one else would be believed.” I raised my head, perhaps hoping for divine intervention to avoid flying home on the back of a dragon. “Yes, of course. I’ll do it. There’s no one I trust more than Tristan.” But I found myself unable to meet his eyes when I spoke.

  Chapter 47

  “Chris, I’m not certain I can do this.”

  “Yes, you can. Think of your mount as a big horse.”

  I averted my eyes. When I looked back, Chris was looking at me in astonishment.

  “This is to save your people, the dragons and return your brother. Are you that afraid of heights, of flying? Your own little brother did it, Genny. Or are you still afraid of dragons?”

  “No, none of those. In whatever form they take, dragon or man, I know who they are. But this is an issue of propriety. My little brother is not female and unwed. It’s…unseemly.”

  Chris rolled her eyes. “Oh for heaven’s sakes, you
’ve got to be kidding. You can’t be that much of a dainty darling. After all we have gone through, after icky men and wolves and dragons, unseemly is what worries you?”

  I nodded.

  She placed her hands on either side of my face, unable to understand my hesitation. “Just let it go! You are so past this.”

  I looked long into her face and blew out a sigh. “Well spoken.” She and I held eyes then, recalling the changes that had occurred these past months, changes for both of us.

  “And where do you go, Chris? What do you choose?

  She stepped back, clasping her arms about her. “I don’t know. I need time to think. I’m still coming to terms with my…ethnicity. But to leave my folks, my friends, my education and career goals to live in an unknown land? I have responsibilities.”

  I couldn’t help teasing her. “Responsibility to those you love, perhaps?”

  “Well, yes, sort of.” She twitched her shoulder in acknowledgement. “I guess we are a bit similar. Bottom line. I can’t up and abandon my future because of a guy. Not in my world and not here.

  “I won’t turn my life over to anyone. Not even to Hugh.”

  And what was I choosing? My life to return the way it was or to step forward and claim what I now knew I wanted.

  Chapter 48

  Night was upon us, the last rays of the sun gone. Tristan and James conferred with the other men, finalizing the details of the trip.

  “Don’t get too close to the castle,” Rauf warned. “You never know what humans will do if they see you.”

  Tristan nodded, busy packing a small satchel with supplies.

  James added, “We’ll have to be careful of the updrafts over the front edge of the mountains. They can be nasty. I believe it was Kester the Fifth who died there, and he bore no rider. A bad ending.”

  I lifted my head, trying to disguise the fear running through my veins.

  Tristan shot James a look as he discarded unnecessary items. “Ummm.”

  If that wasn’t enough to cause me to fret, Piers pushed in, “Maybe we shouldn’t return them right now. There’s a nasty storm forming up in the west. It might be better to head home now. Next spring we could bring them back. It’s a better season for traveling.”

  I held my breath.

  Tristan kept packing, speaking with no inflection in his voice. “We’ve been over this. It’s been decided at our meeting. We must return Harold. Genevieve wants to go back now. We will return her too. No more will we take a princess this way. This treaty, this process will be renegotiated.”

  I tried to examine my feelings. I should be happy and relieved. Tristan was doing what I said I wanted. What I did want. But I was choked by sorrow.

  I spoke not a word to any, but for me, I had selected whom I would have wed.

  The only one who had not given me a gift. Not offered for me. Nor did I blame him. After I had run, how could he feel otherwise but distant? Of course, it no longer mattered. I was returning.

  I held my peace, hoping he wouldn’t guess and see me as a fool.

  Did he suspect? What would happen if I told the others? Would they be sympathetic? Insist that Tristan marry me?

  Would I still be able to return Harold? No matter, I couldn’t risk it. The kingdom’s safety and Harold’s safety were too important to risk for my own longings.

  Tristan looked over at me as if sensing my indecision. “We could wait a day if you choose. There is rain in the air. James and I are strong and careful fliers, but it might be wise to wait for this storm to pass.”

  I studied Harold, slightly bedraggled, trailing after Piers and Tristan with star-struck awe in his eyes. Prying him loose from these exciting man-dragons would increase in difficulty with each passing day. And my father could be gathering his troops at this moment, my mother distraught.

  “No, please. Tonight if it is at all possible. I don’t wish to risk your safety, nor Harold’s, but we need to get back quickly.”

  He nodded, his eyes serious. “It shall be as you wish.” And he smiled at me, that smile that melted me each time. I smiled back and our eyes held. Should I tell him? I yearned to reach over and touch him.

  Harold ran up and tugged on my sleeve. “Genevieve! Genevieve! Can we go now?

  I pushed down my feelings.

  “Yes, love, soon.”

  He leapt up. “I’m going to fly again. Harold, the Dragon…” He looked around revising his words mid-speak. “Harold, the Dragon Rider, flies again!”

  I patted his head, straightening his curls, and then continued speaking to the men. “Not one more day. My parents can’t bear this.”

  James and Tristan exchanged glances.

  Tristan looked to the west, nostrils flaring. “I can smell the rain not far off. It can be cold for a human. We will bundle you up as best we can.”

  Harold stood with his feet apart, looking every inch the miniature monarch. “I’ll protect you, Genevieve. The storm won’t come while I’m here. Sir Harold, the Storm Turner. That’s what they’ll call me.”

  Tristan reached out and ruffled Harold’s hair. “Perhaps with you astride, we can outfly the storm, small king.”

  Harold tilted his head up, glowing with pride.

  Tristan continued, “Let us be gone now, and perhaps we can miss the worst of this storm.”

  James motioned Harold to him before changing into a brilliant purple and umber dragon. Piers and Hugh fashioned a makeshift harness on James’s back with sturdy straps for keeping Harold secure.

  Tristan crouched before Harold, inspecting his boot heels. At my look, he explained with a grin, “Just checking for spurs.”

  He lifted him up onto James’s wing and Harold scrambled up onto James’s back. Tristan tied him in securely, checking the straps and knots twice.

  I prepared myself. Steeled my body not to shake. Chris stood near, holding hands with Hugh, both lost in the other’s eyes.

  “Chris, I can’t say goodbye. I can’t bear to leave you.”

  She came over to me and put her arm around my waist. “This isn’t about goodbye. I’ll find you, you know I will. This isn’t over. We have a bond that has crossed worlds. Look for me. We have unfinished business.”

  Behind me I felt the air move as Tristan changed. I gave Chris a hug and took one last look at the Crystal Cave glittering in the slanting sunshine. Hugh and Chris wrapped a great felted cape about me before lashing me tightly into Tristan’s harness.

  Muscles flexed beneath my legs. I was afraid to breathe, to move. My fingers clenched the leather straps, hoping they would keep me in my seat.

  Tristan’s wings extended and with a huge leap we were in the air. I squeezed my eyes tight, unable to watch the ground disappear.

  Chapter 49

  The winds pounded against me, straining at the leather that held me safely strapped on the back of the man-dragon, Tristan. That first hour had been exhilarating, my fear of heights unfounded, but now, as the night dragged itself across the moonless sky, I concentrated on enduring. Never had I been so cold. Icy rain trickled down my back, sneaking past the thick folds of my woolen cape. Flying beside us and slightly above, was James, carrying Harold. From here I could see my brother’s face, usually so cheerful and determined, his lips now blue with cold and exhaustion. He saw me, and his face crumpled into a look of misery.

  He couldn’t survive this weather much longer. I tried to control the tremors of cold that racked my body. I wasn’t sure I could take much more either.

  A muscle rippled beneath me, as Tristan called to James with that eerie trumpeting that had caused me such fear so long ago. I could barely feel it for my own shaking. They started downward, moving through more moisture-saturated clouds, lower and lower until we settled down with a neck-jarring thump on the edge of a small copse of wood. My fingers clumsy with cold, I released the leather straps that held me tight to Tristan, sliding down his wet slick scales to land in mud that covered my shoes and the hem of my gown.

  More mud spat
tered across me as I struggled through the rain-drenched landscape to Harold, untangling his harness and removing the stiff water-soaked leather straps before pulling him down from James’s broad umber back. I hugged him to me. His teeth chattered. The rain continued pelting us as I looked frantically around for shelter. Anywhere we could get out of this weather.

  Tristan crouched by my side, his silver and emerald wing outstretched, a haven from the storm. I ducked beneath, guiding Harold before me. Within the cover of this living leather shield, the wind ceased. I stood adjusting my eyes to the shadows. A clicking sound quickly resolved itself. Harold’s teeth were still chattering with cold. I pulled him beneath my cloak, kissing his cheek and tasting his salty tearstained face, smelling the soft wet sheep scent from his woolen felted coat.

  James, also in his dragon form, dragged boughs of dry pine and fir upon which Harold and I scrambled, ignoring the resinous sticky sap that clung to our skin and clothes.

  Tristan’s wing lifted slightly and his head crooked beneath, breathing hot air back to us, warming our sheltered enclave to the heat of a summer’s day.

  Harold relaxed in my arms. He stirred, putting his hand up to my cheek. “I don’t want to be Harold the Dragon Slayer anymore. I want to be named Sir Harold, the Dragon Friend.”

  Soon after, he fell into a deep sleep nestled tightly against me. I remained awake. Early morn we would fly again, return to my home, my life.

  My emotions felt raw, scrubbed to the skin and scoured layer upon layer, until all that was left of me felt like a thin parchment written in deeply cut lines, brittle and fragile. No longer the soft, clever princess, sure of herself and her world. I didn’t believe I could seamlessly walk back into my life, taking up my cards in the game of royals as if I had merely stepped away.

  Slowly, exhaustion overcame me. I drifted to sleep holding my brother in my arms and my own thoughts at bay.