The Birthday Dragon

by Lee Abrey

  “Can I pass you a dressing gown, lordship?” said the manservant. I nearly laughed, but turned around and allowed myself to be corralled into a dressing gown that wasn’t mine. It was green silk. The feel of it made me want to go back to bed, just me and the dressing gown. I stretched.

  “Thank you,” I said, hoping my brain would furnish the man’s name.

  “May I suggest you have a wash here, lordship,” he said, and gestured through a door behind him, “then a proper bath later, before dinner? Your clothes for lunch are laid out.”

  “Oh?” I said. “Um, when is lunch?”

  “You have about forty-five minutes.”

  “Can I get a coffee?” I said.

  “Of course, lordship.” His name had come to me. I smiled.

  “Thank you, Bernard.” He inclined his head.

  “I’ll be back with coffee in about ten minutes, lordship, less if there’s already a pot on.”

  “Is it far to go?” My room was a good fifteen minutes from the main entrance and from memory the tea place was further away. The place was so big it distorted the senses.

  “It would be to the kitchens, lordship, but there’s a servant station right next door here. Would you like a stock of mindweed? It’s supplied, like food and drink.” I tried to hide my surprise. I couldn’t believe my parents would think me being allowed to smoke was a good thing. I pretended my own mindweed was nothing special.

  “Thank you,” I said, “I would.” I remembered something Grandmama Daeva told me, that the servants watch the Blood all the time and rather like helping someone to ape them. I decided to throw myself on his mercy. “Um, Bernard, will you tell me if I do it wrong? I mean, manners and everything? I’m not used to all this.” I waved a hand to signify the whole citadel. “Servants, fancy clothes, it’s all new. At home, Mother would tell me to peel potatoes. Or clean the barn. Yesterday I was shovelling cow muck and baking bread.” I touched my leg through the gown. “That bruise is where a sheep kicked me.” The servant tilted his head.

  “You can cook, lordship?” he said.

  “A little,” I said, “and I can wash up too. We didn’t have servants. Well, a cleaning lady, twice a week.” I hoped Molly was alright. Although I didn’t want a relationship, I didn’t wish her ill. Then I remembered how much coin she took to leave me and decided she’d be fine. “My mother’s Blood,” I said, “my father’s a peasant.” Bernard smiled.

  “You’re almost one of us, lordship.” I took it as a compliment.

  ****

  Lunch was in a large and lavishly decorated hall, where we were fed soup, a main course and a dessert, all of them the equal of the best food I’d ever tasted. Afterwards, Bernard was lurking, and whisked me back to my suite to be fitted for a bewildering variety of clothes.

  How could one person wear so many? Surely I didn’t need fourteen silk and fourteen linen shirts? And the underwear. Tailored to fit. I blushed, pretended not to, and tried to be patient as they measured, pinned, and bossed me around. Azrael came in, and we talked as the tailors held up bits of fabric against my face, and discussed whether autumnal colours were best, with the cobbler sitting by, asking me questions about my life.

  After a little while, I realised Azrael was looking at my body. I didn’t think anything of it. I’d look at his. It was something I always did. I looked at people. Especially if they were half-naked in front of me. The cobbler was asking if I liked to walk.

  “Well, I suppose,” I said, “yes, why?”

  “It affects the shoes you need, lordship,” said the cobbler. I had no idea there was so much to shoes.

  “Oh? Oh of course, in which case, yes, I do like to walk. But do I need two more pairs of riding boots? I have a pair.” Everyone laughed, though the staff tried not to make a meal of it, keeping their faces straight whilst smiling a lot.

  Have you ever been the one who doesn’t know the in slang, the latest gossip? The one who’s not as up-to-the-minute as everyone else? The one who doesn’t know what the local ways are? It gets to a person. I breathed out, figuring this was why I learned martial arts, for self-discipline. I had assumed it would be something to use with the boys in the village, but here I was, not killing a group of tailors and shoemakers for laughing at me.

  “Heard you were half-peasant,” said the cobbler, his eyes twinkling, “if you’ll excuse me listening to gossip, lordship, but I didn’t think it from the look of you.” I nodded, carefully so as not to be stuck with pins.

  “You can’t be here,” Bernard said in a practical tone, “and only have one pair of boots. What if I’m cleaning a pair and you get another pair soaked?” Azrael nodded.

  “Bernard’s right, Polo,” he said. I gave in.

  “Alright, two more pairs it is,” I said. “How many pairs of shoes do I need?” Everyone discussed that, which involved evening, daywear, casual, smart, and formal, whilst my feet were carefully measured and shoes, not made for me, but to illustrate styles, were tried on to see how they looked. Was I the kind of man who could carry off a tasselled white loafer?

  Everyone stood back and looked at me seriously. Then it was a pair of silk moccasins in a pale grey with what they said were seed pearls decorating the toe. I pulled a face, stuck out my tongue, and went cross-eyed. They rolled their eyes, but said yes, I was going to get a pair of beaded silk moccasins for the Spring Ball.

  “Emerald, I’m thinking,” said one of them. “Bring up his eyes.”

  “I do not want to look gay,” I said, firmly. I was looking at the cobbler and two of the tailors, who I had pegged as major fairies.

  “Of course not,” they said. Their innocent expressions didn’t fool me.

  “Please,” I said.

  “Doesn’t he beg well?” said one of the very camp tailors.

  “Strictly hetero,” said the cobbler, looking amused. “Couldn’t make you look gay if we tried, precious.” I closed my eyes. Gods knew what they were going to make me wear. I was never much interested in clothes, other than if they were comfortable, and this was a whole new world.

  Finally, the tailors set me free. There were about two hours before dark and Azrael said we could fit a ride in. We stopped for coffee, killed twenty minutes while horses were brought up to the closest entrance, then mounted up. Riding was probably the one thing I liked even more than sex, but I hadn’t a horse for some time now. I mentioned that to Azrael.

  “Why not?” said Azrael.

  “Mother thinks we should all be like peasants and not own horses. She thinks they don’t ride out of choice instead of because they can’t afford to buy one.”

  “Oh, how rotten for you,” he said, “has it been long?” I shrugged.

  “Couple of years.”

  “So no riding at all?” he said. I explained that Lower Beech hadn’t totally trapped me, only partly, as I was able to hire a horse on occasion, and allowed to exercise horses for the garrison.

  From the front left-hand corner of the citadel, if you were facing it, the north-eastern corner, which was where our rooms were, we rode along the north wall, ten minutes at a trot until we passed the building which gives you an idea of its size. Behind it a walled kitchen garden, interesting paths between raised beds and greenhouses, which I was going to come back to look at on foot. It was right next to a red cross on the wall, marking the doors to the citadel infirmary.

  Past the garden was a lawn spreading out like a field for games, several acres, that currently had sheep grazing on it and some soldiers in fatigues kicking a ball around. Beyond that a forest began. Looking around with a shepherd’s eye, I thought about all the places a sheep might commit suicide around here.

  The most spectacular would be if the flock managed to get up the stairs to the citadel wall. They would launch themselves into the abyss with stoic expressions. Our sheep would have been up those stairs and over the edge, plummeting smugly into Haka’s kingdom. I wasn’t sure if I hated sheep or respected their tenacity.

  There were signs that
said things like To the House Lake and various other destinations. A massive marble statue of a dragon stood on the other side of the citadel from the kitchen garden, greeting people coming that way to the lawn area. Next to it were servants on a break, smoking up a storm.

  “This is a concession,” Azrael said, gesturing at the horses, “letting us out. The security’s relaxed since this morning. I’m allowed to ride without guards inside the grounds, since this is the most secure place in the kingdom.”

  “Well,” I said, “they’re worried about you, being the only heir.” He nodded and ran a hand back through his straight black hair. As he let it go, the fringe flopped almost straight back down over one dark blue eye.

  “I can understand it,” he said, “I don’t like it, can’t promise I’ll always be good about it no matter how much Fenric threatens me, but I understand it.” He smiled. “I do like some things about Peterhaven. See there?” He pointed at the dragon statue. “It’s supposed to be the Dragon queen, in dragon form, obviously.”

  “It’s very big,” I said, “was she really that large?”

  “The statue was made to her exact measurements,” said Azrael, “or at least, that’s what Grandpa told me Aunt Clare Casterton told him. She’s Mother’s sister, and the Citadel Librarian. Dragon landed right here, over a thousand years ago, and took off three hundred years later. Can you imagine? One of the shuttles from the Delta Queen herself. Turned out they headed here because back before the Great Silence, nearly three thousand years ago, this all used to be a spaceport where ships from Home landed their shuttles, and that’s how old Dragon’s star charts and maps were. For the Sigma Quadrant at least, they had more updated ones for other places.” It was a sobering thought. All those years we’d been alone in the dark.

  “We’re the back of beyond,” I said, “compared to the Alpha and Beta Quadrants.” We reined in our horses and couldn’t help looking up at the grey sky.

  I imagined a ship coming down, making the clouds churn as the metallic skin showed through the skeins of grey, as it did in the books I’d read. The soldiers shouted, chasing the ball. One of them collided with a sheep that didn’t get out of his way, and man and sheep went down in a tangle. We watched, but both man and sheep survived that one.

  “Most of the other capitals had the fliers,” said Azrael, “the atmospheric craft that could go from kingdom to kingdom, but the shuttles were the only way to get to the mother ship.” I stood in my stirrups a moment, thinking.

  “It must have been scary,” I said, “as Dragon landed.” Azrael gestured with his hand and we moved on, the horses’ hooves making a soft thudding noise on the bioplas path.

  “Most of them thought it was the end of the world,” he said, sounding dreamy, “nearly two thousand years then since the start of the Great Silence, and everyone had pretty much forgotten that the Yusaf arrived in starships. There was a religious cult predicting the end of the world. An offshoot of the crazy Kavar religion. Not everyone believed them, but when Dragon appeared even non-believers wondered if maybe the gods had returned. I read the diary of the king here at the time, Oliver. There are some fantastic first-hand accounts in the library.”

  “We save the knowledge for the people,” I said, quoting the Sendrenese motto.

  “Don’t you think that’s a good thing?” he said. I laughed.

  “You met me in a library, Azrael,” I said, “in the ancient history section. Of course I think it’s good.” He smiled, and pointed at the sky.

  “I think the ship is still up there.” He wasn’t sounding dreamy any more, now he was sounding eager.

  “Dragon’s ship?” I said. He nodded. The theory he was espousing was one I’d heard before and done some research on. Yes the ship was left up there, that much seemed for sure, but that wasn’t the problem. “It might be,” I said, with a wave at the sky, “but the shuttles don’t work.”

  “All we have to do is build one,” he said. I shook my head.

  “It would take more than one kingdom,” I said, “you need a few of them, share the cost. They’re all too busy, every man for himself. The war in the north is limiting the rest of the country, even Sriama. Who knows what they might become if we weren’t fighting them all the time?” I was parroting what the colonel at the barracks had told me when I brought up the subject with him. “Pangea is the most beautiful, fertile continent on this beautiful planet,” I added, a bit lamely, “there’s enough for everyone and we should be happy and prosperous, all of us.”

  “Aye,” Azrael said, “my thoughts exactly.” That rather took the wind out of my sails.

  “Oh,” I said, “good.” He smiled. I realised there was something about Azrael, and the king had it too. Personal charm, a way of turning on the eye-twinkle so that you remembered them as having dimples even though neither of them did. Charisma, that was it. I dropped my readiness to argue my points and focused on what he was saying.

  “I’m hoping for Highcliff, Threehills, Panswell, Acordia, and maybe Joban to join initially,” he said, naming our immediate neighbouring kingdoms, “if Joban stops trying to take over Sendren. The king there is trying to foment rebellion in a number of our border towns.” Not only was he agreeing with me, he knew more than I did. I raised my eyebrows, I hadn’t known about Joban.

  “Isn’t the king’s sister the queen there?” I said.

  “No, that’s my Aunt Kristen,” said Azrael, “she’s the king’s only other child, my father’s younger sister, but Grandpa’s cut her out of the succession. She was younger than Father so I’m the heir by blood, but Grandpa said in case something happened to him and me, he’ll have no Queen of Joban heir to Sendren. Now, the shuttles, I’ve been thinking. I want to persuade all the old dragon kingdoms into one kingdom, and out of the Sriaman war. Then we’ll have enough resources for shuttles.” I was impressed. He had aspirations I hadn’t dreamed of.

  “Sounds good,” I said, “but how? You’d really take us out of the war? That would be bad news for the north. Without Sendren the north will fall, because the other central kingdoms are mostly not as strong or rich as us, and will follow our lead. If the north falls, the rest are vulnerable. Anyone who holds the north also holds the head of the Great Star Lake. All they have to do then is follow the shoreline to get to Sendren. You could end up with Sriama in our backyard.”

  “No,” Azrael said, and his blue eyes twinkled, “because I won’t take us out of the war, I’ll win it. I’ll bring back Dragon, win the war in the north, and unite the old dragon kingdoms into one.” I laughed.

  “Nice idea, but Dragon won’t be our ally.” I looked around. I couldn’t believe the size of the park, the walls were invisible here in the woodland. Behind, I could only see a little of the citadel. “What was it the Dragon queen said when they left? Dragon will not fight in the wars of men.”

  “Best mercenaries in the quadrants?” he said, and laughed. “They’ll do it. I just need to offer the right price.” I laughed too.

  “You have it all worked out,” I said, and he smiled.

  “Well, they are our cousins. However, first finish school, then the Military Guild for three years, then the army. Fight for two years.” I looked over at him.

  “Yes,” he said, “I’m serious. I know they won’t let me fight but I like pretending it’s my plan.” He shrugged. “What I can do once I’m king is unite the kingdoms. Approach Dragon, too. I’m working on that aspect already. I have several kingdom heirs who think it’s a good idea. Joachim of Panswell, for one. And some duchy heirs. We can canter here.” We were heading into a wide avenue that curved among big trees. He gestured ahead, to a side road.

  “Shall we go into the woods?” he said. “It’s quite sheltered down there, and the spring flowers should be out. We can stop for a smoke.” I nodded and reined my horse that way.

  ****

  Chapter 10 - Sex in the City

  In hindsight, I knew what Azrael was up to. Had since we first met. Noticed it properly when he was looki
ng at me in my bedroom while the tailors were measuring me. I was being seduced.

  I wasn’t gay. I knew exactly what I was. Omnisexual. That meant that I would consider almost anything. At that age Azrael was very pretty, with an androgynous appeal. Subconsciously, I must have been responding. I wasn’t fazed at all by the thought that I had relations of a kind with his mother only a few hours before.

  A distance off the path there was a fallen tree, dry under more trees. We sat on that, talking, the horses nosing at the ground for any grass then sighing at the leaf-litter. There were yellow and white crocus growing all around, their scent like honey. Banks of snowdrops bobbed white heads, bright in the softer light among the trees.

  Azrael waited until we had a smoke. Me, I’d have gone for it earlier, but was quite happy to savour the anticipation. Finally, he said,

  “Polo, have you ever done it with a boy?”

  “Aye,” I said, quite honestly, “well, with several.” Technically, I was lying. He laughed.

  “Good,” he said, “then this won’t come as a surprise.” It was a surprise, as I always did men when in the company of women, in threesomes or moresomes, never just one by himself. I wasn’t even sure I could do it.

  Azrael kissed me, quite gently, and I returned the kiss, quite savagely. That felt better. I wasn’t a girl, I didn’t need gentle persuasion. I knotted a hand in his hair as I undid the fly of my trousers. I’ve always had a good instinct for what people want. Azrael didn’t resist. Quite the opposite.

  Fortunately our horses heard people coming, and I happened to notice them react, or we’d have been caught. We pulled our clothes together, glad we hadn’t stripped, mounted up, and rode off quickly, ducking down the nearest side path, giggling at what might have happened.

  “It was stupid though,” I said, “you shouldn’t risk your position like that. Nearly getting caught, I mean.” We headed off through a meadow surrounded by big trees on a beaten dirt path, and all around us were bluebells and more snowdrops. The path led into an open glade, surrounded by glorious banks of daffodils edged with apparently random clumps of black-faced pansies.