Deadly Intentions (Blood Feud - Volume 2)

by David Temrick

  The Prince tentatively reached out with his mind, trying to greet the large red dragon. Its enormous talons flexed, pawing the ground slightly while looking deeply into Tristan’s eyes. It snorted black smoke as it lowered its head to get a closer look at the Prince and his young son. Tristan reached out slowly and placed his hand along the outside of its snout. The dragon was hot to the touch, not so much so that it burnt his hand, but it was definitely the warmest dragon he’d even laid hands on. Jonathan reached up and patted its nose, causing it to coo softly in reply as Tristan chuckled.

  He reached out with his mind, touching the surface of the reds. Tristan didn’t know quite how, but he knew this dragon, as though he’d seen her in a dream or something of the kind. Then it came to him like a bolt of lightning; Bethia? He asked.

  The red dragon snorted as she reared her head and roared to Jonathan’s delight.

  Lesariu was right. Draconis observed. You are getting good at this surprise thing. He joked.

  Tristan shielded his sons’ eyes as Draconis disappeared in a flash of light. The Prince took his hand away as Drake stepped forward in his customary silver robe. He held out his arms as Tristan passed him his great-grandson. Tristan looked from his grandfather and then towards the red dragon questioningly.

  “She can’t assume human form yet.” Drake explained.

  “And she can’t communicate telepathically with me?” Tristan asked.

  “Not yet. I’m still teaching her.” He explained, handing a toy carving of a large red dragon to Jonathan.

  “Where did you find her?” Tristan persisted, while continuing to stroke her nose.

  “There’s a small group of islands to the far west. They’ll little more than magma made hard from under water eruptions, but there’s enough build-up for her to have built herself a cave to hide in.” Drake answered.

  “You’re leaving something out.” Tristan accused.

  Drake looked up from Jonathan, casting his grandson with a warning glare. “Not here. I’ll tell you everything of course. But first I want to play with my great grandson.” He added lightly.

  Drake turned and looked at the red dragon as Tristan attempted to eavesdrop on what he told her. Ish veitil basch. Drake sent. The large red dragon leaped into the air and with three powerful thrusts of her wings, she was gone. Drake turned a looked hard at Tristan and sent him. You’ll learn draconic in time my boy. He chuckled as he playfully tossed Jonathan into the air, causing the boy to giggle.

  The temperature during the day was beginning to be noticeably warmer and Tristan was sure it was getting close to time for he and his guests to leave. Sergeant Frose spent the majority of his time with the Guisian soldiers, learning their ways and heading into town with them to pursue women of a ‘questionable moral quality’ as Euri often ranted, chastising him constantly. Tristan and Maggie spent a great deal of time together and the Prince was beginning to feel snared by her charms, although the feeling was definitely not unwelcome.

  He spent hours with his son every day, at times accompanied by Maggie, Euri, Peria or Mina depending on where they were going to explore today. The time he spent with Peria and Mina helped to heal old wounds that he had long since neglected. It had been almost ten weeks since his first arrival in Delhi and everyone was deeply tanned and relaxed.

  During the evening meal Tristan announced that he had to return to his duties. The mood around the table became guarded, as he knew it would. Peria took the news with her usual enthusiasm, making him promise to visit again soon, instead of waiting years. Mina looked down at her plate, stabbing a bit of broccoli and popping it into her mouth. Tristan was almost surprised to see tears gathering in her eyes despite her best efforts to hide them. He wasn’t sure if they were happy, or sad, but he was sure that their time together had both blessed and scarred them both deeper than either of them were willing to admit. His son got up and stumbled around the table towards him, throwing himself into Tristan’s leg, as he held tight to him. Promises were made, as were plans to leave after they broke fast the following morning with Lesa.

  Even with the growing tension of drama, Tristan’s mind turned again to Bethia and his grandfather. Since his first visit, Draconis was becoming increasingly difficult to contact. Tristan was beginning to feel as though he was being left out of whatever the old dragon was planning. It was irritating to no end, and the Prince chaffed to be included in the plans of a race he helped to save. Of course he wasn’t free to dedicate himself to that irritation; he still had plans of his own, and a country to conquer. Not to mention a bandit King and his magician to defeat.

  Thoughts of his impending battle conspired to keep him awake that last night. He probably would have felt better had he someone to confide in. Despite his feelings for Maggie, there were just some things that he didn’t want to subject her to. The first of which was obviously his coming battle. Deep down inside Tristan knew his life lay in the balance, he would either succeed or he would die. This wasn’t the fear that tugged at his thoughts and robbed him of his precious sleep. The fear he carried was for others: his family, his child, the child’s mother and her family, and of course, Maggie. The young Prince sighed as he quietly got out of bed and pulled on a light silk Guisian style robe. Slowly, and with methodical care he made his way out into the palace gardens were he brooded silently to himself.

  How would Maggie handle it if his duty took his life? Would she understand, grieve and find another? Would she rant and rage at the injustice? Would her pain cause her to choose a more selfish end? All of these thoughts collided in his mind like waves smashing against the side of a cliff.

  “Am I disturbing you?” A gentle voice called.

  “Mother?” Tristan asked in shock. He spun around to find his mother standing in front of him, dressed in her usual splendid fashion.

  “When did you get here?” He asked.

  Minutes ago. Spoke a familiar voice in his mind.

  “Hello grandfather.” Tristan said a little stiffly.

  A flash of light off to Tristan’s left caused him to turn and regard the human form of the mighty silver dragon; Draconis. The Prince tried to keep his irritation hidden, but days of irritation clearly showed on his face.

  “Your fears and anger are not unfounded young one.” Drake replied simply. “The path before you is strewn with war, blood, tears and finally death.” He said quietly. “Unfortunately, that’s what it means to be part of my family.” Drake admitted sadly looking at his daughter.

  “Mykl, despite what your father might think; I know what is happening.” His mother explained as she stepped forward. “The four of us need to talk, and this isn’t the place to do so.” Annadora concluded.

  “Four?” Tristan asked, confused.

  Four. Eurydice’s voice resonated in his mind as she walked up beside him.

  “The threat to dragon kind hasn’t ended with The Bane’s destruction.” Drake said as he stepped forward and placed his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Even now another group seeks to destroy us. They aren’t content to target the obvious subject of the prophecy anymore.” Drake explained.

  The prophecy Drake was referring to Tristan finally heard in its entirety from Lesariu months ago.

  “Born into this world will be a son of a mighty King and Queen descended from dragon bloodlines. He will shake the foundations of man and bring forth an era when man and dragon will live together for the benefit of all. A boy will be born, both of his parents’ descendants of dragon blood. He will grow to rule the world; it is up to his parents what kind of ruler he will become.”

  Annadora stepped forward and locked gazes with her son. “This new group seeks to end all draconic life on this planet, including half-breeds like us.” She said with shocking emotion. “They move in slowly, anticipating our preparations and taking steps to conceal their presence. We found out about them entirely by accident.” She explained.

  “All we know is that they number quite a few spell casters. Which makes things seriou
s since dragon spawn can withstand most mundane attacks, though magical onslaughts can become problematic at best. With the revelation of this new power, we just don’t know how best to proceed and face this new threat.” Annadora admitted.

  “This is where we come in then?” Tristan asked, indicating he and Euri.

  “Possibly.” The old dragon in human form admitted. “I don’t think that will suffice though.” Drake explained. “They seem to operate in sleeper cells. When one group falls, another one is awoken to continue their work.”

  “So The Bane was just a really active cell?” Tristan asked in amazement.

  “So it would seem.” Drake admitted darkly.

  “Gods.” Tristan blurted out. Thunderstruck, he sat down heavily as he considered what he’d just learnt. As he began to fabricate possible avenues of attack it dawned on him; “How am I going to find the rest of them?” He asked to no one in particular.

  “I’m not sure.” His grandfather admitted. “All I can tell you for certain is that the sorceress at King Boris’ side is the leader of her cell.”

  Tristan’s headshot up and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “How do you know that?” He asked.

  Annadora spoke first. “She made herself known to one of your fathers’ agents when she tried to recruit her.”

  “Gods.” Tristan exclaimed again. “I need to get back to my soldiers.” He blurted, starting to rise.

  Drake placed a restraining hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Slow down. First you need to see something. Things aren’t as dire as you might think.” He offered lightly.

  Drake’s eyes flashed purple as he placed his hand out for Euri and Annadora to hold onto. The hairs on Tristan’s neck stood up and he felt his grandfather gather power. The Prince felt as though his body was being torn to pieces, the pain was brief, but shocking. He tried to pull back from it, but his grandfathers iron grip held him fast.

  The pain fled as quickly as it came and Tristan found himself in a large chamber. Disoriented, he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts as he looked around in awe. The walls seemed to shimmer as the light coming in from far above them was refracted and intensified. Tristan was reminded of Henjis’ chamber under The Bane’s stronghold.

  “An apt comparison.” Draconis commented.

  The Prince turned to find Euri and his mother standing at the feet of the enormous silver dragon. Draconis stepped to the side with surprising silence and Tristan could fully appreciate what he had been brought here for.

  Assembled in front of him were hundreds of large eggs of various colors. Tristan rose on the balls of his feet so he could see over the one closest to him. Gently, the Prince put his hand out and touched the surface of the red egg.

  It’s hot! Tristan sent in surprise.

  Some of them are. Draconis explained. Others are rather cool, some feel mosey to the touch and still others vibrate softly.

  Why? Tristan asked curiously and he ran his hand along the egg, feeling the texture and hot that emanated from its glossy depths.

  They reflect the dragon inside. The Dragon King answered.

  Amazing. Tristan replied breathlessly in his thoughts.

  Draconis chuckled; that they are. He replied, looking around the room with unmistakable pride.

  Where did they all come from? Tristan asked breathlessly, still bewildered by the variety of sizes, colors and shapes of each distinctive egg.

  “It’s been a busy year.” Otis laughed as he stepped out of the nearest cave mouth.

  Tristan was forced to laugh as the old man in white stepped forward and grasped Tristan’s forearm in greeting.

  Eurydice stepped forward eagerly. “Ever since we destroyed the Atacamite crystal that blocked dragon magic from working on Amesdia, the dragons have been able to see eggs through the birthing process again.” She explained playfully. “They seem to be enjoying the repopulation.” Euri chuckled as she blushed slightly.

  Some more than others. An unfamiliar voice laughed and it echoed in his mind.

  Strangely Tristan thought that the voice had a feeling of rain and waves to it. Quickly searching his knowledge of dragon lore he attempted to put a name to the feeling. A startling woman in blue stepped out from the cave next to the one Otis had appeared from. He would recognize the human if she’d been in dragon form, though from the cut and look of her long flowing dress, it could only be one.

  “Raithia?” He asked softly.

  Decades ago, large groups of dragon slayers had been all the rage as people lashed out in the ignorance, fueled no doubt by groups like Draconis’ Bane. Thousands of lesser dragons and two elders had been swept up in the slaughter and paranoia, Kumanius and Ryanite. Kumanius had been Bethia’s mother, a greater red dragon and former patron of Terum. Ryanite had been an elder green dragon and the patron of the country of Malus. Her brothers’ death had been very difficult for Raithia and she’d disappeared shortly after it happened.

  Oh very good. She complimented honestly with a grin. You were right my Lord.

  She came and stood before Tristan and offered him a curtsy with a wry smile. Tristan smiled widely as he affected a deep bow causing her to laugh. She seemed by far to be the most fun loving of the dragons he’d met so far. Even Socolis would be hard pressed to match the humor he felt emanating off of her. Gently he touched her mind, finding what he expected and a deep joy at life. Yet, he felt that the pain of her kind tempered it. There’s was more though, there was a profound sadness. The Prince needn’t ask what the cause of the pain was, he knew already.

  I am sorry I could not meet your brother. He sent.

  You are kind. He lives on though. She said. There are a score of dragon eggs likely to hatch green dragons to oversee his domain.

  Draconis’ changed into his human form as the group of them walked forward to observe the eggs more closely. Raithia wrapped her arm around Tristan’s as she led him forward. After passing several mossy blue eggs, soft green eggs and perfectly smooth golden and silver eggs questions flooded the young Prince’s mind.

  “My dragon lore is lacking grandfather.” Tristan began. “How is it that a green dragon can be born again?” He asked.

  Drake motioned over to the corner at the opposite end of the cavern from them. A large sitting area had been set up much like Henjis’ lair. Bookshelves lined the three walls inside the shallow cave. Everyone took a place amidst the cushions, pilled high on a large ornate rug in the middle of the carved out study. Tristan looked up, expecting to see bare rock face, instead a small oil lamp lowered a few feet from the top of the small cave and with the aid of cleverly placed mirrors and crystals it lit the cavity in a comfortable glow.

  Tristan settled himself into a pile of comfortable cushions as he drank in his surroundings more completely. The bookshelves groaned slightly under the weight of thousands of books and scrolls of various colors and sizes. The Prince could make out small runes under each shelf, which he assumed marked the subject matter collected above it. He focused his eyes on the shelf closest to him and attempted to read the spines of the ancient tomes. Most of the languages he couldn’t decipher, although there appeared to be a few with familiar markings and symbols. Drake cleared his throat dramatically drawing their attention as they looked at him, rapt with attention.

  “When dragons first came to this world, there were only the seven.” He began as he turned to Tristan and apologized. “Some of this you already know, so please bare with me.” He chuckled.

  “Our ancestors fled from a world of destruction and chaos. The dragons fought each other more often than not, but the wars between the dwarves, elves and orcs ragged on for thousands of years, long after dragons had grown tired of inner strife. After the first thousand years of devastating wars, the dragons tried to hold peace conferences. At the time, they hoped that they could persuade the warring factions and races to come to terms with one another and live in peace. More than once the peace talks ended in murder as each faction sent assassins with their delegations.”
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  Draconis took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “The last such murder was an ancient black dragon, Henjis’ father to be more specific. The elves seemed the most willing to hear reason, possibly due to their longer life spans. The orcs and dwarves hated each other with a passion that I have yet to see matched.” Drake paused for a moment.

  “To understand the wars and the orcs you must understand how they both came to be.” He sighed, clearly struggling with the revelations he was sharing, despite their bloodlines.

  “An elven prince fell in love with a black dragon. At the time elves were our servants and the dragon wars were at their zenith. When they mated and produced eggs, there was great excitement for no dragon/elf hatchlings had ever been born before.”

  “The dwarves have always been master craftsmen, and we relied heavily on them to build and maintain our lairs. However, they were apprehensive of the mix of dragon and elf. Most asserted that they were jealous, as dwarves never mixed with other races. At any rate, they decided to leave the dragon halls in protest.” The three dragons in human form exchanged meaningful glances before Drake continued his narrative.

  “When the eggs hatched, the dwarves worst fears were realized. Instead of a fair elf, or a mighty dragon, deformed humanoid bodies spilled out of the eggs. They were dark skinned and although they possessed the ears of an elf, they held none of their other fair attributes. Some of them ate their nest mates, while others struck out at the servants who cared for them. When the first three reached their adult size, they slew their elven father, ripping him apart and feasting on his blood and organs.” Drake took another steadying breath.

  “The dragons rejected the hideous children, the elves refused to acknowledge them as kin. The dwarves stepped forward and volunteered to slay the monster children. The black dragon matriarch was an ancient, and her vengeance was terrible. She slew the dwarves and elves present and it was only through the combined might of the other dragons assembled that she couldn’t slay them all as well. She gathered her hatchings together and fled into the deep marches of the south.” He shook his head sadly.