Hendric shrugged. “Recall Volcant from his mission, restore him to his former position, and name a new ambassador.”
Thonis shuffled on the spot and cleared his throat. “You could tell Wildref the truth.”
Indulf snarled as he whirled on Thonis. “Katrina,” he spat, emphasizing the name she’d been given on Earth, “has a family. She has a life and she has no desire to know about her birth family. I’m not going to force what I want on her when it would destroy the happiness she has. But...” The anger drained, leaving him looking ancient, exhausted and deflated. “But I can’t lose my boy, too. Not again. When I think of little Erik never knowing him...”
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hendric put a hand on his shoulder, comforting his king without words.
“We don’t know what happened,” Thonis said slowly. “It could be that Warmund himself killed our spies.”
“If that’s the case, I’ll find out,” Hendric said. He’d already decided that he was going. Now it was only a matter of getting formal permission from Indulf. “But if someone’s going after him, we don’t have time to delay.”
Indulf straightened, his expression smoothed out. “Bring him back. Whatever the reason for the break in communication. Bring my boy home.”
After a short conversation, it was decided that Hendric’s absence would be explained as him going to the future. They would say Volcant requested help, so that he could spend more time with his mate and child, and Hendric was the choice. In the meantime, Thonis would be assuming Hendric’s duties.
Once that was settled, Hendric went to his apartments. There, he found his son sitting next to the fire while his mother read him a story. His heart ached at the thought of leaving again so soon. Avas looked up and sprang to his feet at the sight of his father. Hendric held his arms out to him and Avas rushed into his embrace.
“Papa!” Avas grinned at him. “Teacher wants to take me to the Kelyn Monastery for a month for my training! I want to go so bad!”
Hendric set his boy down, eyes widening at that news. Avas, like most of the boys with fathers in the palace guard, received a free education and trained to be warriors, should that be a career they wished to pursue. It wasn’t the life he wanted for his boy, but Avas loved fighting. He was good at it, too. Much better than the other boys in his weight class. However, the Kelyn Monastery was a trip usually reserved for boys much older than him.
“That is very exciting news.” Hendric breathed out a disappointed sigh. If he had known about this, he wouldn’t have volunteered for the mission. “And if you wish to go, then, of course, you may. I only wish that I could go with you.”
Avas’s smile faded slightly.
Hendric knelt to his level. “I’ve been given a very important mission from the king. I’ll be away for quite a long time.” He hugged his son again. “But I’m sure Grandma will be able to go with you…?”
He turned his gaze to his mother, who nodded with a small smile on her face. Hendric breathed a sigh of relief as he smiled his thanks at her. Without his mother, he wasn’t sure how he would make it. It was a great relief to know that his son was always with family.
“How long will you be gone, Papa?” Avas asked.
“I’m not certain. But I will come back as soon as I can. I promise.” Hendric ruffled Avas’s hair as he stood again. “In the meantime, why don’t you show me what you learned today?”
Avas’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! We’re starting knife work, Papa. Teacher only lets us use wooden ones, though the older children get to use metal ones. Can I have a real knife for my birthday, Papa? Please?”
His mother laughed. “You’re a little young for that yet, darling.”
“I’m nine centuries,” Avas argued. “That’s nine-hundred years. There are some boys who are only sixteen years that have metal ones.”
“Those are human boys who age much quicker, though,” Hendric reminded him. “Now go get your practice knife, Avas. We’ll see if you can beat your father with his bare hands.”
Avas charged off to his room leaving Hendric smiling after him. He was going to have to complete this mission as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to miss a single day with his son. And who knew, if he was fast enough, he might be able to join them at the monastery before their month was over.
Chapter Three
Sylvia
It was just the sort of lazy afternoon with the house to herself that Sylvia liked. She had quickly grown bored of the romance novel she was reading—it was more of a realism story, and she was in the mood for something more fantastical—and so looked for a movie instead. It didn’t give her what she wanted, either. Sylvia sighed as she considered her position. Alone in the house. Feeling restless. Romances not cutting it.
There was only one thing to do. She quickly retrieved a few empty soda cans from the recycling and built a pyramid by the front door and skipped to her bedroom. It wasn’t as though she was ashamed of pleasuring herself, but if the other girls found out about it, they’d tease her mercilessly. Was it so bad to want some privacy with such an intimate act?
But just as she slipped off her pants and started to get comfortable on the bed, there was a crash from out in the living room. The sound of cans rolling all over the floor. Sylvia moaned in dismay as she quickly got up again.
“What the…?” Misty’s voice followed the noise.
With a whispered curse, Sylvia pulled her pants back on, grabbed a nerf gun and rushed back out to the living room. “Sorry, I was just doing target practice.”
Misty shot her an annoyed glance, then shook her head. “Never mind about that. I found something that’s going to knock your socks off. So, for part of what Volcant and I are doing, I’ve got access to census records. Well, look what name I found.”
She triumphantly laid a thick binder down on the table and opened it to a page. Sylvia leaned over, surprised at the list of names there. She quickly found the name Misty was pointing to. She squinted, mentally cursing the fact that she’d already taken out her contacts. Her eyesight wasn’t terrible without them, but it was difficult to read. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped as she read it.
Myleesa Elforde.
“What?”
“Isn’t that the name of that ancestor of yours that you were saying you wanted to know more about?”
Sylvia grunted and dashed to her room to grab her binder, where she had all her own genealogical records printed off the internet. She came back already flipping to the page. “No records exist of her from before 1883 and we don’t have much about her in our family records. But are you sure that your Myleesa is spelled right?”
She found the page, gazing at the picture of her great-great-grandmother, a pretty, dark-haired woman with a grin that Sylvia had always thought looked a little smug.
“I’m sure,” Misty said. “Byrelmore is incredibly educated. Schooling is mandatory for kids up to the age of sixteen and illiteracy rates are extremely low. They’ve got standardized spelling and grammar and everything, there’s no reason for it to be spelled wrong.”
Sylvia compared the names, her heart pounding shallowly. She had always been excited about genealogy, and if this meant what she thought it did…
“Myleesa would only be twenty or so right now in Byrelmore.” Misty jumped up and down, squealing. “If there are already ties between Earth and Byrelmore, then it’s going to make my job so much easier. If you want to meet her, I’ve already talked to Volcant and Indulf about it. There’s a portal opening up soon. You’ll have a month in Byrelmore and miss a week on Earth.”
Sylvia squealed, seized Misty’s hands and jumped up and down. Excitement rang through her so much that she couldn’t stop herself. A chance to go to Byrelmore itself was exciting. Added with that the chance that she might be able to meet one of her ancestors? Not to mention clearing up a huge family mystery. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.
And if she happened to see more of Hendric… well, that was
just an added bonus.
***
Her biggest disappointment was getting to Byrelmore and finding out that Hendric was on Earth. The second biggest disappointment was traveling for a week in a caravan from the palace to where Myleesa had lived during the census, only to find out that she had disappeared.
“I’m terribly sorry,” the monk helping her look through records said as they left the record rooms. “This must be a terrible disappointment for you.”
Sylvia nodded. “If there was only a picture of her,” she sighed as she took off her glasses to clean them. “Maybe her disappearance was her being snatched magically and deposited in Victorian England. But I guess the only thing to do is keep looking.”
She frowned as a group of teenage boys walked past, all looking exhausted. One boy, a good few years younger than the others from the look of him, tagged behind them, yawning. An older boy dropped back to walk with him. Sylvia considered asking if they were monks-in-training, but, at the moment, she was too tired to think of much besides her disappointment.
Until bells started to ring. The boys and the monk all tensed and looked at the sky. The monk grabbed Sylvia’s wrist and started to pull her into a building while more monks rushed out to usher the boys away. Sylvia opened her mouth to ask what was happening when suddenly, there was a burst of fire in the air. Shouts rose up all around them as a dragon charged from the sky.
Sylvia had seen them in their dragon forms before, but never one charging right at her. Her breath locked in her throat at the sight of the massive beast, its wings folded back, clawed hands reaching for her. A shout choked in her throat.
Another dragon came out of nowhere and slammed into the first, knocking it off course. Then a scaly hand wrapped around her and her feet were jerked out from under her. She screamed, kicking and flailing, as the ground got farther and farther away. The air grew thin. A headache pounded through her brain. She clutched at her glasses with both hands to stop them from falling.
Anna was right. I shouldn't have gone so far from the palace.
***
Sylvia was shoved into a small cage, next to the young boy she had seen at the monastery. The dragons that had kidnapped them shifted back to human forms, naked, and she averted her gaze. Instead, she turned to the boy. He could only be about nine years old. His eyes were wide, and he huddled into the corner of the cage while his chest heaved. He looked about ready to have a panic attack and so Sylvia moved back and put her arms around him.
Even if her natural inclination was to start screaming and wailing in fear, her throat was already dry from that and there was no point in panicking further. “What’s your name?”
The boy jumped at the sound of her voice and eyed her warily. “Avas.”
“Mine’s Sylvia. Are you hurt?”
Avas shook his head, though his eyes started to well with tears. Sylvia glanced out of the cage at their captors. They had all dressed at this point. She noted that many of them had bruises or long gashes in their skin. None of them seemed to be very happy. A few of them glared at her and Avas, as though it was their fault that the monastery had been well protected.
“At least we got a nun,” one of them grumbled. “An unmated virgin like that? She’ll fetch a high price at market.”
Sylvia’s stomach churned. Slavers? She hadn’t known that there was that sort of thing happening in Byrelmore. She choked back the urge to beg and plead for them to let her go and instead whispered to Avas, “I need you to play along with this, okay?”
He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“I am neither a virgin nor unmated,” she said, fighting to keep the wobble from her voice. “And I demand that you release me and my son at once! When my husband finds out about this, you’ll all be sorry.”
Avas buried his face in her shoulder.
The dragons all stared at her suspiciously. A few of them muttered, the rest just looked away. The same one that had spoken before scoffed now. “So, she’s not a nun. She’s got a son, that means she’s fertile. And the kid’s a dragon which means she can withstand vigorous sex. Any of the exiled lords will be clamoring to have her thighs.”
Bile rose up Sylvia’s throat. She clamped her jaw shut, breathing deeply through her nose. It wasn’t going to get to that point. She held Avas close as he started to cry while at the same time scouting the area, looking for anything to help her escape. Didn’t her D&D character end up in this situation just last week?
I also rolled a natural 20 and convinced them to let me out. I somehow doubt it’ll work this time.
“I’ll find a way to get us out of here,” she promised Avas softly. “I promise.”
“I want Papa,” Avas whispered, his sobs becoming louder. “I want Papa.”
If she died out here, how would that affect relations between Byrelmore and Earth? And her family—she had assured them she’d be safe. She had promised them that she’d bring them back something cool from the dragon kingdom. They would be devastated if she didn’t come back. She didn’t always get along with her five brothers and three sisters or her parents, but she loved them. Not to mention her nieces and nephews.
I’m going to get out of here and get back home.
It took a few more minutes for her to realize that they were waiting for more people. The dragons watched the sky anxiously. One of them gave a cry and within moments, a dozen more dragons landed. These ones were in even worse shape than the first batch. One of them had a gash in his leg that stopped him from even walking. Sylvia adjusted her glasses and peered harder at them.
“What the hell happened?”
The one with the gash grunted. “Indulf’s men drove us off.” He spat on the ground. “Got nothing from it. Ever since he married that human bitch, he’s got more and more men out here. We’re going to have to find a new territory to raid.”
Sylvia, whose mouth was open and halfway to protesting the dragons calling her friend a bitch, swallowed back her indignation. Anna had told her that ever since she and Indulf married and had Erik, Byrelmore had been thriving. Indulf’s reign was more stable and rather than concentrating on maintaining order within the kingdom, he was able to strengthen the borders. She had thought Anna meant against invading armies. Raiders and pirates like these guys were clearly feeling the pressure to move on.
Not that it did Sylvia much good—she was still a captive and was going to be taken somewhere and sold as a slave.
The raiders bandaged their wounds. Two of the muscular men picked up the cage. They started walking in a close band while Avas cried, and Sylvia desperately looked around, trying to find something—anything— that would help her come up with an escape plan.
She found nothing. All she could do was hold Avas close to her and try to comfort him.
Chapter Four
Hendric
Not all the people who lived in the Exiled Lands were criminals. Plenty were sent here for crimes, or else because they were running from the law, but plenty more had been born here. Others still went into exile with their loved ones. It was for those people that Hendric’s heart ached as he journeyed through the Exiled Lands. These lands were unclaimed by any kingdom and anybody trying to claim or interfere with the land would face severe repercussions from the other kingdoms. In the past, even sending aide to the Exiled lands had started wars.
Still, Hendric couldn’t help but wish he could simply take all these citizens back with him to Byrelmore. Every township had its system of self-governing, but, more often than not, it was gangs ruling territories. Some towns were rich, with walls to protect them and streets practically paved with gold. Others, like this one, had refuse in the streets. Buildings were collapsing all around, and the people had sunken, hollow cheeks.
Hendric gave his food to a group of children with huge eyes while his fires roared at the unfairness of it all. Perhaps he would be able to adopt them? Get them out of this terrible poverty. It was unfair that the other kingdoms wouldn’t allow Byrelmore to at least feed these ch
ildren! But they would take it as them aiding traitors.
A hiss escaped his teeth as he shook his head. Once he got back to the palace and told Indulf the state of things out here, they’d be able to set up some sort of negotiations with the other kingdoms to protect the children, at the very least. What crimes had they committed to deserve this life?
The thought of his own son here made him shudder. Thank the Gods that he’d been so blessed in his own life.
Hendric made his way to a dirty, broken little tavern. According to the information he’d managed to dig up, this was where he would find the man he was looking for. As he entered, a few people looked at him. It was as run-down on the inside as it was on the outside. A few scantily-clad women lounged in ways that were meant to look appealing, but they came across as simply not caring.
This certainly was the worst place in town and the worst town he had come across so far. The bartender drank directly out of the bottle, and several clients were passed out on the tables. He caught sight of a familiar profile and headed in that direction.
Warmund was at the bottom of a bottle, his head resting in his hand as he stared at an untouched plate of food. A knife was clutched in his hand. When Hendric approached, he leapt to his feet with a roar and brandished the knife at him. A sword was strapped to his hip, a dagger on his other hip and several throwing knives strapped across his chest.
“Get away unless you want to get your guts cut open,” Warmund seethed, staggering unsteadily.
It would be very easy to disarm him, but in a place like this, looking dangerous was half the battle to staying alive. Hendric fell back a step and held up his hands. With people looking at them, he didn’t want to announce that he came from the palace.
“I’m not looking for trouble.”
Warmund squinted at him. He probably didn’t recognize him. When he had been exiled, Hendric was still a low-level guard. A lot had changed since then and it wasn’t as though Warmund had the resources to keep up with it all. The exiled prince snorted as he sat back down and shoved the plate of food across the table.
The Dragon Beast's Virgin: A Paranormal Romance (Separated by Time Book 3) Page 2