The Birthday Dragon

by Lee Abrey

  As I rode after Azrael I was feeling decidedly unsettled. Magpie was snorting and dancing sideways. I checked him with my legs, pushed him forward at a trot. We caught Azrael quickly and slowed back to a walk, Magpie reluctant and making the odd snatch at the bit, as if to say he was fine to go faster.

  “What happened there?” Azrael said. I shrugged.

  “Something weird.” I paused. “Does the name Cree sound familiar to you?” He thought for a few moments.

  “I’ve heard it somewhere,” he said, “not as a person’s name, though. We can look in the library when we get back, if you like.”

  ****

  We found out Cree was the name of an ancient tribe, like the Yusaf or Dragon, but before either, and that was it, a tiny mention. One of the old tribes of Home who were subdued by the Yusaf. It didn’t seem relevant to my ghost.

  “There’s nothing else?” I said. “I’m looking for a person called Cree, maybe a hundred years ago? I don’t know if it’s his sirename or first name.”

  “There might be something,” the Royal Librarian said, “in one of the libraries in the other kingdoms.” She was Azrael’s Aunt Clare, another Princess of Cragleas, older sister of Saraia and rather like her, but in a stern way that I found both erotic and unnerving. She insisted I call her aunt.

  If you were sort-of cousins, rather than quibble about what exact relation, the older one was aunt or uncle, and once you were nearly an adult they usually told you to call them by their first name. Theo had told me I could drop the uncle and call him Theo, but Aunt Clare didn’t tell me to call her by her first name. I tried not to watch her too obviously.

  “I want to unite the old dragon kingdoms,” said Azrael, sounding dreamy, “we could bring together at least one copy of every book.”

  “Ah, you’re a lad after my own heart,” said Aunt Clare, eyes shining, “can I kill any of the local kings for you? Make it easier to take over? Some of them have mildew in their libraries!” I laughed.

  “Thanks, Aunt Clare,” Azrael said, grinning, “but I’ll try talking to them first. Maybe we should try asking for a copy of every book, or even better, the original, and then promise them copies.”

  “Tell them,” I said, “that the book stays their property, but Sendren will preserve and make copies.” They focused on me.

  “Good idea, Polo,” said Aunt Clare. It was the first time she really noticed me, and I wondered if I should try to tumble her, or if possibly having to avoid the library was too high a price to pay for fun. I decided the latter, that I’d behave, but it was a near thing.

  We wandered off again, and Azrael said he was thinking about a swim. I was thinking about being on my knees in front of Aunt Clare. I could think about it, that wasn’t doing it. Perhaps I’d been a bad-

  “You’ve got this very severe Oedipal complex going on,” said Azrael, interrupting my thoughts, “I’m not sure it’s healthy. Have you always wanted to kill your father and marry your mother?” I looked at him.

  “Never. Have you been reading my psychology books again?” He nodded.

  “Plus,” he said, “I saw the way you looked at Aunt Clare.”

  “So what?” I said.

  “So, you already did my mother. Does your mother look like mine, or is that coincidental?” I began to laugh. “I’m assuming this is some kind of breakdown you’re having,” he said, grinning. “I’ve been reading that book on children of alcoholics.” It was my idea for him to read up, as it had been good for me to learn about my father’s condition. “We’re more likely to become alcoholics ourselves,” Azrael went on, “and of course, we have issues.” I was laughing uncontrollably and had to stop to catch my breath.

  “Galaia preserve me, Azrael, we do have issues. I’m likely to be crazy, what with it running in the family, and you’re weird.” He punched me in the arm, not hard enough to hurt. We walked along in silence for a while, saving our breath for the several sets of stairs we had to climb as we went back to our quarters.

  No longer lost in happy thoughts of Aunt Clare, too late it occurred to me that Mother would tell Uncle Theo that I was an evil promiscuous child with homosexual tendencies, probably not to be trusted alone with the Crown Prince, the queen or the citadel silver. I imagined the king’s reply, which would probably involve much shouting, especially at me when he found me again.

  “Polo?” said Azrael, “Are you alright?” I blinked, and smiled.

  “Aye, I’m fine,” I said, “just distracted.”

  “It’s been a bit of a day,” he said. “Want to go see if the king is back?” I grimaced.

  “I’m thinking of saddling Magpie, loading him with my favourite clothes and a blanket. I’ll be heading for the east coast, seeing Father is possibly somewhere on the west.”

  “It’s very flat there,” said Azrael. I laughed.

  “Well, that’s it then,” I said, “I won’t go.” He smiled.

  “Wouldn’t you miss the mountains?”

  “Possibly,” I said, “but I have no family in the east. Well, there are bound to be cousins, but you know what I mean.”

  “No family around,” he said, and shook his head, “I can’t imagine that.”

  Theo wasn’t back but it was time for morning tea. Azrael said again that we should go swimming and we walked back to our quarters to change and pick up towels. His bodyguards said they’d come swimming too. We were going to get food on the way.

  ****

  Chapter 19 – A Sign

  Before we could get out of there Cida turned up. She looked at me, in a shirt over shorts, sandals on my feet, and I queened it up for her. She curled her lip in distaste.

  For a while during the last term she hated me so much that she went for my eyes between ripostes. She never managed to get through my guard, but it was so sudden I was nearly caught. The last time I told her that for her, I’d forget she was a girl and break her nose if she did it again. That seemed to do the trick and she stopped the physical attacks.

  “Oh,” she said, “you’re here. Azrael, ask your lapdog to stay away from me.”

  “Morning Cida,” I said, “speaking of lapdogs, how’s my favourite frigid bitch today?”

  “Screw you, Polo.” It was affection, of sorts. Naturally, she switched on the charm for Azrael. She was dressing better, as was I. Had her tits grown? I wasn’t sure, it might be that she was wearing a waisted dress and looked very shapely. I guessed the citadel’s dressmakers were as ruthless about clothes as the tailors were.

  While I assessed her dress sense she prated on about a free fair over on Peterhaven Common, where there was a circus in town. A circus? I couldn’t believe my good fortune. On today of all days, with Mother in the citadel.

  Life made sense again. Wasn’t I going to run away to join a circus? Was this a sign from the gods? Did I really believe in the gods? Atheism was the natural refuge of the thinking man, as my father told me.

  I remembered Cree, who was messing up my worldview and my beliefs. I could see ghosts. Were gods and ghosts mutually exclusive? I was proud to be a man of science, but the ghost was confusing.

  While my brain stewed over it all, it was decided instead of morning tea and swimming we’d go to the fair and get food there. I decided the gods had sent me a sign. I was going to run away with a circus after all.

  While Azrael’s guards sighed and put their armour back on, we changed ourselves and on the way out went down to the new fort, where we collected a mail tunic for Cida. She grumbled about the heat, Azrael’s security, and how it wasn’t like the old days.

  “Yes it is,” said Azrael, “you’re misremembering. Before Father was killed, my friends didn’t have to wear armour but I did. And I always had six men to go into the village. Twelve minimum outside the Upper Beech walls. They were just always there. We were younger so it was normal for adults to be around if we were out.” She looked surprised.

  “Were there that many?” she said. He laughed.

  “Aye,” he said, “here
I have twelve in the city. And a coach. Even if I’m walking, they have to be able to evac me quickly. So far they won’t let me outside the city without a platoon but I’m hoping they will be soon.”

  “It’s silly,” said Cida, “as if anyone’s going to kill you.” I wondered what planet she was living on but bit my tongue. Azrael didn’t seem to get angry at her stupidity. Maybe he did fancy her.

  “That man did kill Father,” Azrael said, “they’re still twitchy, both over that and over only one heir.” She curled her lip.

  “I suppose they want you to get some poor girl pregnant,” she said.

  “I do believe that’s the idea,” said Azrael in a mild tone.

  “It’s a hereditary monarchy,” I said, unable to keep my mouth shut. “He’s supposed to breed.”

  “If he wants to be gay,” she said, “that’s his business. You, of all people, shouldn’t be trying to turn him.” I was completely stunned by that. So was Azrael.

  “What?” he said. “Who wants to be gay? I’m not gay, Cida. Ah, and Polo’s not either.” I lost my temper with the girl. Not in a huge way but enough to loosen my tongue. Thanks to my run-in with Mother I didn’t need much stoking.

  “Stupid cow,” I said, “we’re not gay.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Azrael,” said Cida, ignoring me, “if you’re gay, you’re allowed to be.”

  “Ah,” said Azrael, “Cida? I’m not gay. Really not.” She looked at him and shook her head sadly. He frowned, “Would you like to meet some of the girls?” he said. “I have witnesses.” By then he’d had a number of lovers.

  “Poor Azrael,” she said, “I sympathise, I really do, but there’s no hiding it.”

  “Because neither of us wants to tumble her she thinks you’re gay?” I said to Azrael, and laughed. She turned on me.

  “Everyone knows what you are, Polo Shawcross! You’re bad to the bone!”

  “You’re so inventive, Cida,” I said. “What does ‘bad’ mean in that context? That you’re afraid of me because I don’t agree with you?”

  ****

  We headed onwards down the hill with Cida and I squabbling until Fenric told us both to shut up.

  “Because I have a hangover,” he said, “and if you really don’t like each other, then for the love of Thet, ignore each other. Otherwise, get it out of your systems with a tumble, because we can’t stand listening to you.” Cida went crimson and gasped. I shut up. Cida began arguing with Fenric instead. Azrael and I looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Don’t you start with me, Cida Innes,” said Fenric, when she accused him of taking my side, “you’re as bad as your mother the way you preach at people. Come to think of it, your father doesn’t shut up preaching either, about the bloody peasant revolution.”

  “You should discipline your servant,” said Cida to Azrael, ignoring Fenric now, “he’s being rude.”

  “Now Cida,” said Azrael, smiling, “Fenric’s not my servant. He’s my bodyguard and part of a private military unit. Stop being so grumpy.”

  I was going to smirk at Cida, but suddenly the ghost, Cree, appeared again. I cast surreptitious looks around but nobody else was watching him. Cida had forgotten me and was glowering at Azrael and Fenric. We resumed our interrupted progress towards the gate. Cree began to keep pace with me, but mostly inside Fenric. Very disconcerting, and I tried not to look.

  So, said the ghost, how’s your day going? I managed not to laugh, but it was a near thing. If I was able to speak I’d have said, brilliant, I think I’m running off to join the circus.

  With any luck at all, said Cree, that won’t be necessary. It could hear me. The day just got better. I wondered what kind of jobs there were in a circus. Knowing my luck, I’d end up shovelling manure again.

  It’s good honest work, said Cree, and if it’s horse manure it’s not too bad. Ahead of us a messenger was coming at a gallop up the road from the gate.

  “Something’s up,” said Fenric. He stepped out of the group to where the soldier could see him. “Report, soldier!” he shouted. As the man went past without slowing, he shouted back,

  “Queen of Joban’s here! Sir!”

  “Military training is thorough,” said Fenric, sounding thoughtful, “act like you have a right to know, the common soldier often tells you.”

  “Isn’t that your Aunt Kristen?” I said to Azrael.

  “Aye,” said Azrael, “quick, let’s get out of here.”

  “Whoa,” said Fenric. “Queen of Joban here means we’re at emergency security levels. It was her lover killed your father, remember? You don’t get to go into town. Sorry.” Azrael frowned.

  “But Fenric,” he said, “I’m safer out in the town if she’s in here. Besides, Kristen didn’t want me killed. You were there. You helped interrogate the assassin. He was acting without her knowing.”

  “Nonetheless,” said Fenric. I sighed.

  “I’m going to the fair,” said Cida, “there’s supposed to be an elephant.”

  “A real one?” I said.

  “Don’t be stupid, Polo,” she said, “it’s stuffed, part of an exhibit of Sriaman animals.”

  ****

  For a real elephant, I’d brave the walk down with Cida, but stuffed wasn’t worth it. She’d lecture me about religion and how I should let Thet into my life, whilst all the time smouldering with unhappiness and repressed sexuality.

  The sect she belonged to worshipped Thet, claiming all other gods were only angels and not worth the prayers. I would get the “giving up the good things in life in order to be pure for your god” lecture. If I dared to query the tenets of her belief, she’d go for my eyes again.

  Don’t go into town, said Cree the ghost. Stay with Azrael. The circus was there for a week. I could go down to the common any time.

  “Well,” I said, “I’ll give it a miss today then.” Cida looked at Azrael.

  “I can’t come,” he said with a shrug. She stormed off back to the new fort to dump her mail shirt. We could hear her swearing at us as she went.

  “I think,” Azrael said, “she’s worse than usual.” We all laughed.

  “I think she’s turning into her mother,” said Fenric, “that woman’s as sour as they come.”

  “Aye,” said Ross, one of the other bodyguards, “they say women turn into their mothers. However, men do too. Scary.” I thought about my mother. Every man there was doing the same, resolving to stamp out every aspect of her in their behaviours.

  All mothers are crazy, said Cree, sounding philosophical, they damage us too much, and most of us never recover. If we’re lucky, we reach an age and a level of experience where we suddenly realise that how we express that damage is our choice. If we’re even luckier, we manage to stop doing it.

  Oh gods, I thought, rather pointedly, why am I being haunted by a lecturing ghost?

  It’s true, said the ghost, sounding amused, and I’m not a ghost. A ghost is lost. Show them the light, generally they’re gone. Besides, ghosts are cold. Have I ever made you cold? I’m here by choice.

  “Coming, Polo?” said Azrael. I blinked.

  “Sorry,” I said, and hurried after the others. Cree hurried with me, but he did it effortlessly, strolling up the incline as if he were on the flat.

  I could float, if it makes you feel better.

  Go away, I thought at him.

  You’re going to need me soon.

  I doubted that.

  You’ll see. Soon. I’ll be there for you.

  We headed directly up through the gardens. On its way to the citadel the Queen of Joban’s coach had to slow to negotiate the hairpin bends of the coach road. Still, it went past us not long after. There was a plump, dark-haired woman looking out. She looked a lot like Theo and I guessed that was her, Queen Kristen of Joban.

  ****

  We went to Azrael’s rooms and stayed there for about half an hour, warned not to take off our armour until the emergency was over. Before that happened, a messenger came.

 
“Message from His Majesty, Highness, emergency security level confirmed.” Fenric rolled his eyes. “You’re to proceed to the North Tower,” the messenger went on, “stay with the Princess Royal-” Azrael’s mother Saraia was now known as the Princess Royal “-until you hear the all clear.” Azrael groaned. I wasn’t too pleased either. It was cool enough in the citadel to not notice the mail tunic, but if I moved around it was going to get hot.

  Here we go, said Cree, lighting a pipe as we walked, it begins. Fate, beloved.

  I didn’t know what to say or do, and didn’t even realise the urgency. All I was thinking was, if I was hallucinating I should stay with other people. I would, I resolved, begin to live clean. I would give up smoking, drinking, women, men, and anything else, if only the hallucinations would stop.

  Make up your mind, said Cree, one minute I’m a ghost, next a vision. What next? A splintered aspect of your psyche that’s come adrift in some personal crisis? When will you accept that I am real?

  I nearly gasped aloud. It was arguing with me!

  “On the double,” said Fenric, “North Tower, march!” I could have said I’d stay in my room but went along with Azrael, both of us still in armour under our clothes.

  We were hustled along to the tower, where at first there was much confusion.

  ****

  Chapter 20 - A Very Small Dragon

  Outside were a group of guards from Joban sitting on some cushions because, the Sendrenese guard detail told us, the cobbles were cold and they hadn’t wanted to be inhumane. The prisoners were unfazed, smoking and playing cards. Several of the big black cats were hanging around, enjoying the sun and any affection offered. The detail on guard were part of the Princess Royal’s guard unit. When we reached the tower door, they wanted us to stop, be searched, and give up all our weapons.

  Saraia being Princess Royal was something Azrael had insisted on, a Sendrenese title along with her Princess of Cragleas one, and her guard claimed to control the tower area over Azrael’s men. Azrael’s men refused to give up their weapons. They had the Crown Prince in their care. Only the king was more precious to Sendren.