The Birthday Dragon

by Lee Abrey

  Just then a servant came out.

  “Food’s up, lordships!” Sitting on the wall, I’d stiffened up and it took me two goes to get up. I should have brought my stick. Limping across the courtyard, I was thinking that if I ever caught Kristen Westwych, if she were in human form I’d strangle her with my bare hands.

  If she was in dragon form? Well, I’d be more cautious. I’d do better in dragon form too. If I could be as big as Virginia the first time I saw her then I’d bite Kristen in half without effort.

  It still didn’t occur to me to tell Azrael about his father. Stefan had put some kind of suggestion in my brain not to mention it, yet. ‘Yet’ was such open-ended timing.

  Eventually I remembered talking to Stefan and outing him as Azrael’s father, but still kept putting off telling Azrael.

  I wouldn’t tell him, yet.

  ****

  Chapter 28 – Surprising Mother

  Another week passed. Stefan was gone, family emergency he said. I suspected he realised that if a self-obsessed teenager like me could see the family resemblance, better to move out before the king noticed or someone pointed it out to him. Azrael was put in the charge of another physio.

  Cree, my entity, or whatever he was, was there most days. Azrael had tried to see him until he had a headache, with no success, despite Cree trying to assist. Cree was not so much transparent as differently visible, as I tried to explain to Azrael as we sat in the little courtyard after breakfast on the Saturday.

  “I can see him,” I said, “but he’s not in this world. Not really. It’s like we’re looking through a window.”

  “Maybe that’s what ghosts are,” said Azrael, “people in another world that we watch through a window.” I shook my head.

  “He’s not a ghost,” I said. “He chooses to be here, whereas ghosts are lost or caught in this plane through strong emotion. He says emotion is the enemy. In body or out of it. Letting it rule you is the way to destruction. Same thing Fenric drums into us.”

  “Aye,” said Azrael, “it’s better to think before you react in most circumstances, except in battle, when it’s good to go with reflex.”

  “I don’t think I’m very good at that,” I said, “thinking, I mean. I tend to go with emotion.” I rubbed at my hip. It was itching and painful but so much better. Virginia had said I could try sitting on a horse before long. Azrael smiled.

  “I’ve always been told I have to be on my best behaviour, being the heir and having the Crown’s image to consider, so I often think before I act.”

  “We’ve lived different lives.” I sighed. “Any news on when we can leave the infirmary? I’m going mad here.”

  “Simon, the new physio, told me soon,” said Azrael.

  “Aye, Virginia said the same, but when’s soon?” I said, and he shrugged. “They keep saying everything’s soon. I’m bored.” I wasn’t only bored, I was horny. A servant came out through the infirmary.

  “Polo Shawcross?” he said, and I nodded.

  “Aye, that’s me.” The man handed me some letters and left. I looked over the envelopes.

  “Anything interesting?” said Azrael.

  “A letter from Mother,” I said, “probably telling me what an ingrate I am, and one from Grandmama Daeva. Probably doing the same.” I sighed and opened the one from Mother. “Let’s get it over with.” I laughed as I read the first lines and read it aloud to Azrael.

  You ingrate child! How can you be so bloody heartless? After everything I’ve done for you, working my fingers bloody to raise you…

  “It goes on in a similar vein,” I said. I glanced at Grandmama’s.

  Dear Polo,

  Your mother has written to me, very upset. She’s claiming – among other things – that you’re lying to the king about her. I’m sure this is some misunderstanding, and we both know she can be overly dramatic.

  However, I’m sure you will understand that until you send an explanation I won’t be paying any accounts for you or sending your allowance. I only do this because I’m sure you won’t be distressed as you’ve not put much on account. Teseraia also told me you are disgracing the family by adopting the Kavar vice.

  Teseraia was Mother’s full name but only Grandmama called her that. To everyone else she was Tess.

  Say it isn’t true, darling, that you will give me grandchildren one day. I love you dearly, no matter what, but you can understand my concern.

  Mother didn’t seem to have mentioned why the king had banned her from seeing me.

  “Gods,” I said aloud, “Mother’s lying to Grandmama. I’m cut off financially. I’ll have to write and tell her about the dragon attack.” I rolled my eyes. “She’s accusing me of adopting the Kavar vice.”

  “Your mother told your grandmother you’re gay?” said Azrael. I nodded. “Women,” he said, shaking his head, “you don’t want to cross them.” I laughed.

  “Shouldn’t that be mothers, not women?” I said. He shook his head again, looking solemn, but his eyes were twinkling.

  “I’m not sure I want to be hetero,” he said, “seems women are dangerous.”

  “After all my good work,” I said, pretending to be upset. He smiled. “Anyway,” I said, “I’m tired of the infirmary. I’m going for a walk. I want to go back to my suite and write a letter to Grandmama.”

  “Get Grandpa to confirm what’s happened,” said Azrael. “Or I will, or my mother?”

  “That might be better,” I said, “coming from a woman. I’ll ask her.”

  “I’ll come with you,” he said, “I could do with a walk too.” His guards grumbled, but put down their cards and went with us.

  ****

  By the time we reached my quarters we were both exhausted, and again I was regretting not bringing my walking stick. We took a break, wrote out my letter then headed out to Saraia’s quarters nearby.

  It felt strange to be back at the North Tower. The last time a dragon attacked me. Azrael’s guards didn’t like it either. Saraia’s guards stopped us and we were patted down. Everyone was twitchy.

  “Is your mother under threat?” I said to Azrael as we followed a soldier up the stairs.

  “Who knows?” he said. “This is mostly for appearances, I think, to show Mother’s status.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, highness,” said the soldier taking us up, “but Her Royal Highness has received death threats.” Azrael stopped walking up the stairs.

  “She has?” he said. “When?”

  “Since shortly after your accident, Highness,” he said, “some crazy person who thinks your mother is the dragon who attacked you. There have been several letters.”

  “Why would they think that?” said Azrael. The soldier shrugged.

  “I gather it’s that she’s the southerner in the citadel, Highness. They can’t believe a Westwych would shape-change.” He grimaced. “I saw the Queen of Joban do it, I’m a believer.”

  Azrael’s mother was pleased to see us, and insisted we stay for a coffee and a rest. My leg was killing me so I was quite happy to do so. Saraia was a regular visitor, we’d seen her the day before, but still there was news about our treatment and how we were feeling. I explained about Mother and showed her my letters.

  “Ah,” said Saraia, “I’m reminded of that time you told me I might give you good advice but your own mother didn’t understand you.” I nodded.

  “I hope you’d never be so vindictive,” said Azrael, watching her. She laughed.

  “So do I,” she said, “your father nearly drove me to it. Fortunately we’re free of him.”

  “Aye,” said Azrael, “when he retired his commission in the army, I was ready to kill him after only a year.” They shivered at the memories of how bad Prince Perry had been.

  “Have you heard anything about your father, Polo?” said Saraia. I shook my head.

  “Mother claims to have left him,” I said, “but she does that twice a year. I assumed they’d be back together by now. They may be. I have no idea even where she�
��s living now. From this,” I said, tapping Mother’s letter, “she wasn’t going to be taking ‘the king’s tainted coin’ any longer.” I paused. “If Father was here he’d distract her. I think that’s why she’s so focused on me, because he’s not around.”

  “That makes sense,” said Saraia. “Well, I’m happy to write to your grandmother, see if we can explain things. I think I mentioned I know Daeva from years ago.”

  “Aye,” I said, “you did, so we’re cousins. Third?” She nodded.

  “Something like that. You two would be third cousins once removed. Or maybe twice? You’d be my third cousin once-removed. I think.” She laughed. “But we need to look it up.”

  “So we’re cousins on both sides?” said Azrael, “I mean I’m a cousin to you on my father’s side, and on my mother’s?” I nodded.

  “Aye,” I said, “both through my mother. No wonder she’s an interesting case, she’s rather inbred. I’m lucky Father was a peasant or I’d have flippers.”

  “Maybe I could talk to your mother?” said Azrael.

  “I was going to try that,” I said, and grimaced, “talking to Mother, I mean. I thought if I did she might calm down and stop trying to get the family on her side.” Saraia looked sympathetic.

  “We could come with you?” she said. I did consider it.

  “No,” I said, “thanks, Saraia, but perhaps better if I’m alone. She won’t think she’s being pressured. I’ll find out where she is and go visiting.” I sighed. “If she hadn’t thrown things at me when I was in the infirmary, none of this would have happened.”

  “If she hadn’t dumped you here while she went off with your father,” said Saraia, “you never would have been in the infirmary.”

  “Aye,” I said, “so many ifs.”

  “I’m glad she dumped you here,” said Azrael. “Sorry if that’s selfish. I’m sorry you were attacked, of course.”

  “My own fault,” I said, smiling. “I know better now than to try to hold even a small dragon.”

  “If you hadn’t distracted Kristen,” said Saraia, shuddering, “I dread to think what might have happened to Azrael.”

  “I think she was trying to refuel,” said Azrael, looking thoughtful, “so she could change back.” Saraia made a spluttering noise.

  “She tried to take your face off!” she said.

  “Yes,” said Azrael, “but that was an accident. You saw it, Polo, she was flapping her wings and shot forward.”

  “She did deliberately do my arm,” I said, shrugging, “though it may have been reflex, like a wild animal. My hip is from her taking off.”

  “All the same,” Saraia said, shaking her head, “I don’t think I’d trust Kristen anywhere near either of you.” I nodded.

  “Aye,” said Azrael, “you’re probably right.”

  ****

  After Mother was banned from the infirmary she moved out of the citadel in a huff, despite Theo himself trying to reason with her, but she left a forwarding address with citadel admin.

  I arranged for a groom to bring Magpie up to the citadel. My leg was stiff but riding was easier than walking, providing Magpie didn’t move too fast. He was surprisingly gentle with me, none of his usual bouncing.

  Mother was living not far away, near the top of a hill in a good area. It looked a pleasant townhouse in a quiet, tree-lined street, and I guessed it must have wonderful views down across the city from the upper two stories. I rode round the side, found a laneway, and down that was access to a stable at the back. There was a black horse in one stable. It put its head over the door and whickered at us. Bracing myself to cope with Mother, I didn’t really think about why she had a horse, and such a fine-looking one. Though an excellent rider, Mother wasn’t a horse person, thinking having one separated her from the ordinary folk. There was another loosebox where I put Magpie. I took off his bridle, fetched some water, slackened the girth and left him to it.

  A path led through a pretty garden, stuffed with flowers and all kinds of fruits and vegetables, showing signs of recent weeding. I followed it through, and knocked at the back door. No answer, so I knocked again, thinking just my luck, she was out, then I heard something and assumed it was her saying come in.

  The door was unlocked. I tsk-ed at that. She would have to tighten security here in the city. It wasn’t like Lower Beech, where everyone left their back doors unlocked, or like the citadel, where you didn’t really need to lock your rooms. There was a small hall where I left my boots, leading into a pleasant kitchen. Something smelled good on the stove, and there was bread baking. I felt a little twinge of nostalgia. It reminded me of home.

  “Mother?” I called, and heard a noise. Frowning, I stepped towards an open door that led into a hallway. “Mother?” I heard the noise again. Something whimpering. Gods, she was crying. I imagined some attempt at rapprochement with Father that had ended in him beating her, though Galaia knows why, as despite all her provocation, which included her hitting him, he’d never raised a hand to her.

  The house was like a rabbit warren. I hurried towards the noise and found the front hall, which led to a staircase, me moving as fast along a passageway, up some more stairs, as my bad leg would let me up the stairs. By the top of those, in a cold sweat from the pain, blood roaring in my ears, I stopped to catch my breath. The whimpering noise again. Quite loud up here on the top floor.

  “Mother!” I said, and stepped forward. Only one step but it was enough. I saw Mother through the open door of what turned out to be her bedroom. She wasn’t alone. Or clothed. Neither was he. Ah, that was why she was whimpering. Why she hadn’t heard me calling.

  She was distracted. I assumed the man between her legs hadn’t heard me because her thighs were over his ears. I didn’t look for more than a horrified split-second, then turned and bolted. Well, I limped fast. Hopped in places.

  Getting back into my boots was excruciating. I could hear Mother shouting but ignored the noise, lost in my own world of agony. Getting out, trying to move at speed, re-bridling Magpie then tightening the girth and mounting, nearly killed me, and there were tears in my eyes by the time I was back astride.

  Magpie decided now to talk to the black, and trumpeted a loud neigh. Mother was hanging out an upstairs window in her dressing gown, shouting something. I only heard my name, not what she said, and ignored her as I rode off.

  A gallop in the forest appealed, to see if it cleared my head of what I’d seen, but everything hurt and I simply wasn’t up to it. Normally I’d leave Magpie at the stable and walk up to the citadel but I was in a bad way. The infirmary was at the back, on the same side as my quarters which were at the front. I dropped in at the stables, got a groom to double up with me and rode to the very door of the infirmary, leaving the groom to take Magpie back. I was nauseous by then, having overdone things by a fair bit.

  ****

  For once I was happy to lie in bed, it beat standing up and waiting for the sweats to pass. Azrael found me there.

  “What happened?” he said, “you look dreadful. Was she awful?”

  “I didn’t really talk to her,” I said, and explained what had happened.

  “You’re sure it wasn’t your father?” he said. I shook my head.

  “My father’s blonde,” I said, “the man had dark hair. I didn’t see his face. He looked a big chap. Bigger than Father. I suppose if she’s really left him then she’s entitled to someone else but she could lock her bloody door.” Azrael tried to be soothing.

  “Why don’t you write to her?” he said, “There’s still the problem of her lying about you.”

  “I might,” I said, and sighed. “I want to find out where Father is. This might be revenge for what he did to her in Torc. I gather he was seeing floozies. I better start with Theo, he may know already.”

  Once I was feeling better I took my stick and went for a walk to my quarters again. Bernard fetched me a coffee while I wrote to Grandmama Daeva. I said I wasn’t gay and Mother knew that for a fact, but to not count on
me for grandchildren, as I didn’t like children much. I said firmly that my sexuality was none of anyone’s business nor was who I had sex with, then added,

  I haven’t written to you lately because I’ve been in the infirmary since the beginning of December, (I am still there), recovering from being clawed by a dragon. It was only a small one or I wouldn’t be writing this. Along with the bone-deep wound on my arm through which I nearly bled to death, I have another longer one down one hip. The Crown Prince and I were both close to death several times.

  You of all people should understand how dangerous dragon wounds are. I went to see Mother today, (the first day I’ve been allowed out of the infirmary), thinking to reason with her and make her stop with the lies. However, she was in bed with some dark-haired man and didn’t have time to talk to me.

  There, I thought, explain that, Mother! I’d put in enough digs that I felt better. It was all true, too. My arm was killing me. So was my leg. I decided to write to Mother while I was still angry and in pain.

  I’m not interested in your games. Go play them with Father. He seems to enjoy your amateur theatrics.

  I rather liked that line.

  I don’t know who the poor chap you were in bed with was, but I do know it wasn’t Father. Was it only two weeks ago you loved him so much that you weren’t prepared to choose between us? Not that it really matters.

  Telling Grandmama that I’m gay and then claiming that I - in some sort of pact with the king, who has been nothing but kind to both of us - drove you out of the citadel, well, that’s so low I can’t quite believe it. I could of course make up my own lies, or I could just tell the truth about life with you, but don’t really want to stoop to your level.

  It would help if you stopped spreading lies about me, the king, and anyone else I care about who’s been unfortunate enough to earn your enmity. So leave me alone. I’ve had enough. I’ve written to Grandmama and hope she believes me, but if she doesn’t? Well, I’ll know you poisoned her very well.