Fire and Blood (Dragons of Galicia Book 3)

by Simone Pond

  Doran stepped forward. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he said, “but the journey from Ocelum to Eshlan is quite long and with winter approaching, the conditions may cause delay …”

  “Then we better make haste,” said Evelyn.

  15

  The spear of Gorias cloaked Evelyn, Lugh, Doran, and Aine as they came up from the dungeons. No one detected their presence as they stealthily traipsed through the castle and right out the front doors. They passed across the grounds all the way to the horse stables safely.

  Aine ran straight to the stalls to greet the great stallion, Tynan. His stall was empty.

  “Prince Kieran must’ve taken him for the journey to Eshlan,” said Doran, patting her shoulder. “But there are plenty of other horses to choose from.”

  Aine walked through the stables, eyeing the horses until she came upon one that neighed as she passed by. She reached out for it—a female—and the beautiful creature nuzzled up into her outstretched hand.

  “I’ve found my horse.” She opened the stall. Though small and slight, Aine was agile. She mounted the beautiful chestnut horse with ease and waved goodbye to everyone as she departed for Eshlan.

  Evelyn and Doran found a horse large enough to share. Though the spear had healed her, she didn’t want to ride alone after being asleep in the dungeons for so many months. Lugh decided on one of the feistier stallions that settled the moment he mounted it. Evelyn marveled over the power her father exuded sitting atop the horse. It was no wonder he was a legend.

  “May the spear of Gorias lead the way!” he proclaimed.

  Evelyn held up the spear. It began to illuminate the small space with its bright blue-white glow, then leaped out of her grip and shot forward, bursting through the stable doors and whipping through the air.

  “Go on, Daughter!” Lugh motioned toward the opening.

  Evelyn took hold of the reins and nudged the horse forward. Off they rode, trailing after the glowing spear. Lugh followed behind, his stallion neighing and galloping.

  The pair of horses moved briskly down the slope toward the foothills of the Vindius Mountains. Though she wasn’t looking forward to returning, Evelyn was relieved to be free of the dungeons and the castle. The morning sun saturated and warmed her pallid skin. Each ray filled her with a new hope. She soaked in each golden drop and breathed in the fresh air. A deep satisfaction filled her as she pressed her shoulders against Doran’s sturdy chest. He wrapped his strong hands snugly around her waist and kissed her neck. Freedom, indeed.

  The journey to Ocelum was swift, thanks to the spear of Gorias leading the way. They went through shortcuts that even Doran—who knew the mountains inside and out—hadn’t known. They had to endure some grueling switchbacks, but it was worth making excellent time. Lugh sang the entire way; songs that reminded Evelyn of her childhood. Songs her mother used to sing while they worked together in the fields. She loved hearing the unabashed joy in her father’s singing and couldn’t wait to witness the reunion between her parents. Deirdre would be astonished when she discovered her one true love had returned after eighteen years.

  They rode continuously through the night, only stopping to let the horses rest and to give them water. As they entered Branbury Forest, Evelyn inhaled the familiar scents of pine, mulch, and hints of salty sea air, all welcoming her back. Her heart began pumping with intensity and she realized how deeply she longed for the comforts of home and the feeling of safeness. She’d taken the path through Branbury countless times on her way to neighboring villages to sell her cheese and other wares, but something seemed different—even in its familiarity. There seemed to be a veil hanging over the forest, making everything appear somewhat cramped. In her memories, the paths were so much wider, the trees taller. Now it all seemed smaller. Or maybe her perspective had grown.

  Evelyn directed the horse toward the gates of Ocelum. As they approached she noticed something was terribly off. Had she taken a wrong turn along the way? Surely, this wasn’t the home where she’d grown up.

  She ordered the horse to stop.

  “What is it?” asked Doran.

  She stared ahead in disbelief, unable to utter a word.

  Lugh’s stallion trotted up next to them. “Ocelum … Oh, Ocelum,” he murmured.

  16

  After the prince and his army departed Verubri for Eshlan, Ciara stayed in quarantine as the days dragged on and on without any visitors other than her frumpy chambermaid. She reminded herself that things would change soon. Especially with the new arrangement she had made with Declan, the head knight. It had taken much cajoling, but he’d agreed—though reluctantly—to handle the matter of getting rid of the prince, before she gave birth.

  The threat to expose Declan’s secret had worked once again, but that time he required something more in return for killing the prince and securing Eshlan. He wanted her diamond ring.

  “So I can start over somewhere new,” he’d told Ciara.

  “I can assure you, you will always have a place in my kingdom,” she said.

  But Declan shook his head. “I cannot continue as the head knight of Verubri after committing such a horrific act of treason. In fact, my lady, I will never serve another kingdom as long as I live. The ring will help procure property where I can live out the rest of my disgraceful life in secrecy.”

  Ciara scoffed at his staunch principles, but handed him the ring.

  Now that her plan was back on track, a tiny bit of hope had been restored. But she was growing restless, stuck in her chambers all day and night. It had been months since she’d last seen Olen. And now that the prince was out of the castle, she could bring him up from the dungeons. Since her chambermaid hadn’t started working in the castle until after Olen’s incarceration, she’d be able to have him stay in a nearby room, pretending to be her visiting brother. But getting out of her room and to Olen would be a problem. The chambermaid was a stickler for the rules.

  One morning when the dowdy chambermaid came to deliver breakfast, Ciara announced, “I need some fresh air.”

  “But, my lady,” said the woman, “I’m under strict orders to make sure you remain in bed.”

  Ciara smiled sweetly at the drab woman. “Clarice, that’s your name, isn’t it?”

  The woman nodded.

  Ciara got out of bed—the first time in days—and removed her nightgown. She stood defiantly in the nude before the chambermaid. Though her belly was full and round, the rest of her body remained supple and firm. She was even more striking in her pregnancy. Clarice backed up a few inches.

  “I’m with child, dear woman, not ill. As you can see, my body is healthy. Now I must get out of this room and get some fresh air before I go out of my gourd.”

  “But the prince …”

  “The prince isn’t here, Clarice. He’s traveling south. And while he is gone, I’m in charge of things.”

  “But he said—”

  “It doesn’t matter what he said, dear. There’s a strong possibility Prince Kieran will die in battle, leaving me in command. So I think it’s best if we start getting used to that idea.”

  Clarice’s eyes narrowed, and quickly, as if catching herself, she bowed her head. “Allow me to dress you, my lady.”

  “That’s better.” Ciara patted the woman’s frizzy hair.

  ***

  The castle was eerie and quiet as Ciara waddled through the corridors. The castellan offered to assist her, but she sent him away. She didn’t need some busy-bodying know-it-all who would surely send reports to the prince. She went to the kitchen and inquired about her hired thug, Rex, and learned that he’d gone off to battle with the army. Now she didn’t have a way into the dungeons and would have to find a set of keys. She knew the prince had his own set tucked away in his desk.

  She made her way up to the third floor. It was strange roaming around without the bustle of watchmen, counselors, and knights. The peacefulness was reassuring and gave her a sense that everything would be just fine.

&
nbsp; When she approached Prince Kieran’s golden doors, she found them guarded by a watchman. This wasn’t surprising, since his chambers held private documents regarding the kingdom.

  “Your majesty.” The watchman bowed.

  “Good afternoon. I’d like to enter my husband’s chambers. I’m searching for a letter.”

  “My apologies, my lady, but I’m under strict orders to not allow anyone into Prince Kieran’s chambers.”

  She saw the way he eyed her heaping bosom—plump from the pregnancy—and how he grinned just a tiny bit when she moved in closer. This man would be easy to maneuver, she thought.

  “I’m sure he’d never know if we went in for just a moment … the two of us,” she purred, stroking his arm.

  The watchman’s eyes widened and his cheeks grew flushed. “My lady, are you implying that … that we …”

  “Shh, good sir. These halls have eyes. Let’s discuss this behind closed doors, shall we?”

  Flustered and confused, and clearly turned on by Ciara’s advances, the watchman shuffled around in his pockets and fumbled to unlock the doors.

  They stepped inside, and Ciara made a beeline for the prince’s desk.

  “My lady, what is it you’re doing?”

  The watchman rushed over to her, following her around the desk, shutting drawers as she opened them. She huffed, staring up at the man. He was more pretty than handsome, the type that could pass for a girl if he wore makeup and a dress. Would she have to actually lie down with the man in order to find the keys to the dungeon? She couldn’t bear the thought of another man, besides Olen, touching her like that. But there were other things she could do …

  “Sir, you are so uptight. Why don’t we sit on the couch for a moment and just relax. I happen to know just the thing to take off the edge.” Ciara took his hand and pulled him over to the couches, forcing him to sit.

  “My lady … this is highly inappropriate. You’re married to the prince.” His conviction was flimsy at best as he gnawed on his bottom lip, staring at Ciara’s bosom.

  She began to unbutton the tiny pearls along the cleavage of her dress, exposing the top portion of her undergarments. The watchman’s face reddened as he leaned forward with enthusiasm. He reached over and cupped her breasts, letting out a soft moan. She inched closer to him and tickled his ear with her fingers. He pressed his face against her breasts and began to suckle them. Ciara felt nothing other than a sense of urgency to end this before it went any further. She gasped and reached for her stomach.

  “Oh, no!” she cried out.

  The watchman sat back, his blond hair mussed and disheveled, his blue eyes wild with desire. “What is it, my lady?”

  “The baby … There’s something wrong …”

  He jumped up. “I’ll go get help.”

  “No!” she shouted. “If you do that, they’ll know what we were doing. You’ll be taken to the gallows.”

  The watchman paced, looking down at Ciara, then at the door. “But what if something is wrong?”

  Ciara gave him a reassuring smile. “Just let me rest a moment, then I’ll be on my way.”

  He knelt down and held her hand with his sweaty one. “I’m so sorry, your majesty. What can I do?”

  “It will be fine. Go back to the door before someone notices you’re gone.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” he said, smoothing back his hair neatly. “There’s another way out of the prince’s chambers.”

  This was news to Ciara. She’d never known about a secret passageway. “Where?”

  “Just behind the case over there …”

  He walked across the office to a large glass case that displayed helmets and other pieces of armor. Then he slid open a panel in the wall beside the case. It was a narrow passage, but large enough for Ciara to make her way through.

  “Thank you for sharing this,” she said.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m just embarrassed. A princess shouldn’t behave like this. I’ve been so lonely in my chambers. And this pregnancy is starting to weigh on me …” Ciara began to cry, hoping this would encourage the watchman to hurry up and leave the room.

  “I’m honored you would even notice me, your majesty. Now, I must return to my station. Come see me when you’re feeling better.”

  He bowed and stalked off to the door, locking her inside the prince’s chambers. She quickly made her way over to the desk and began opening drawers again, rummaging through parchment and scrolls. In the bottom drawer she found a ring of keys and snatched them up.

  She walked over to the glass case so she could go through the secret passage. As she got closer to the case, she realized relics and heirlooms weren’t the only items on display. Among the ancient artifacts were jars of yellowish liquid and inside floated eyeballs or fingers or what looked like organs. Bile rose up the back of her throat and she turned away from the case. But as she jerked away, something caught her eye …

  A piece of parchment had been pressed inside two pieces of glass and locked together with grips. She recognized the familiar etchings and illustrations. It was a page torn from the dragon slayer’s journal. Obviously it was an important page, otherwise Prince Kieran wouldn’t have locked it inside the case and sealed it between the slabs of glass. She searched the display case for a latch and found one on the back side.

  She took out the ring of keys from her pocket and found a tiny key that was a perfect fit. She unlocked the latch and reached into the case to remove the slabs of glass containing the parchment. It took much force to loosen the grips, but she was able to slip out the piece of paper. It was a map of some sort. She didn’t know what it led to, but guessed it was important, so she rolled up the page and tucked it into the pocket of her dress.

  The passageway was dark and tight, but Ciara made her way through until she came to a door. It opened to a dark chamber. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

  Inside the stark room sat an enormous bed on a platform. Chains and ropes dangled from the mirrored ceiling. Hundreds of candelabras filled the room, holding half-melted candles. Not a single window in the entire place—only mirrors lined the walls. A large tub—now empty—sat on the opposite side of the room. Several wooden platform contraptions with metal cuffs where wrists and ankles might be locked were strewn about. Whips and daggers and iron pokers hung from hooks, along with other metal contraptions. It didn’t take a genius to understand what happened inside this chamber. Ciara cringed to think of the ladies who had endured the prince’s malicious torment.

  The air in her lungs evaporated. She needed to get out of that torture chamber immediately. As she stumbled to the door, she knocked over a few candelabras, which clanked to the stone floor, but she kept going until she reached the door knob. Somehow she knew that if the prince did return to Verubri Castle, this is where she’d be spending the rest of her days …

  17

  Evelyn dismounted the horse and walked up to the gates of Ocelum. She stood staring at the charred remains of what was once her hamlet. The iron gates were all that stood. The rest of the cottages and chateaus were burned to the ground, leaving piles of soot and ash in their place.

  Reluctantly, Evelyn stepped through the gates and made her way down the main road. Not a single person wandered about the rubble. Had they all died? Did the dragon burn them all to a crisp? She was too afraid to sift through the wreckage to know the truth. She needed to keep walking. She needed to see if her mother’s cottage and the barn still stood.

  Doran ran up behind her, grabbing her arm. “Don’t,” he said.

  “I must know.”

  Lugh rode his stallion into the hamlet and trotted toward them, stopping. “Let me go look.”

  Evelyn’s body trembled and tears blurred her vision. She rubbed them away. “I need to see it for myself.”

  “Daughter … It won’t help anything to see it.”

  Evelyn pulled out of Doran’s grip and ran down the road toward her mother’s cottage. As she
came over the slope, her heart caught on fire and her legs stopped working. She dropped to the dirt and sobbed. Her home was nothing but a heap of charcoaled ashes. The barn was a charred shell. None of the goats were ambling about the grass because that was scorched too. Everything was gone. Her home, the farm, the goats … her mother.

  Doran knelt beside her on the road and wrapped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. He cradled her while she sobbed. She wanted to bury herself in the ashes and stay there forever. How was she supposed to go on? Ocelum had been destroyed because she wasn’t able to save the villagers and because of that their sacrifice brought back another dragon. A horrible dragon who rained down vengeful fire on her home.

  “This is all my fault … I killed the dragon and another one came back to avenge it.”

  Lugh dismounted his stallion and lifted Evelyn up off the ground. “You’re a dragon slayer. You did your duty. Now, you must pull yourself together, Daughter. There is work to be done.”

  Evelyn scoffed. “Work to be done? My mother is dead because of me. The entire hamlet of Ocelum is gone because of me. Who else will suffer the consequences of my actions?”

  “They are gone because of the dragon,” said Lugh. “A dragon that you must slay before it burns through all of Galicia.”

  Doran stood next to Evelyn and held her hand. “You’re not in this alone. We’re in this together.”

  Evelyn wasn’t sure what to think or do. She longed for the comfort of her mother’s arms. To just sit down at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of stew and sharing her adventures. She wanted to tell her mother that she was right—that there was more to life than striving to be noticed and fitting in with the upper echelons. All that Evelyn had been chasing after seemed foolish now as she held Doran’s hand.

  “But how can I truly go on? I feel a part of me is missing.”

  Lugh smiled at Evelyn and gently touched her tear-stained cheek. “Do you honestly believe that your mother—as clever-minded as she is—didn’t find a way out of this? She’s a survivor, Daughter. Just like you. Now, we must go forward. On to Eshlan, where we will join Clovis and his dragon warriors.”