Tears of the Dragon

by Cyndi Friberg

  “You know why I behaved that way,” she objected.

  “And you know why I cannot stop thinking about you. Why you torment my dreams and burn in my blood. We will be lovers, Rowena.”

  Her body stiffened. She refused to be bullied.

  His expression softened, and Rowena saw her opportunity. She raised her knee into his groin with just enough force to startle him. He groaned and staggered back a step, immediately releasing her hands.

  She didn’t pause or look behind her. She ran back to camp and ducked into the tournament tent. With an exasperated curse, Rowena tore off her wimple and threw it across the tent.

  “Now that is not a nice word at all. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  Rowena turned on Thora with all of the emotional combustibility building within her all day. “I will not do it! I will not bow and scrape every time a man tells me to. I will not sacrifice my freedom and surrender the only power I have ever known!” Each declaration brought her closer to tears. “I do not care if I must remain cursed. Men cannot be trusted. They lie. They manipulate. They cheat and…seduce.” The last word ended on a sob.

  Thora’s arms closed around her as Rowena surrendered to the tears.

  * * * * *

  Brother Leland no longer feared the dark. It had become part of him. Not like the bleak, empty blackness of an evil man’s soul, but the velvet tranquility of a starless night.

  The long, mournful moan of rusty hinges disturbed the silence, drawing his head toward the door. A cool draft curled around him and he inhaled the blissful scent of untainted air. But the fetid stench of his barren cell quickly corrupted the breeze, making it rank and putrid.

  “You look rather peaked, Leland. I thought you brothers were used to confinement and want.”

  He recognized the voice, yet the features had faded to shadows, lost forever in the mist of his memory. “Edwin,” Brother Leland rasped, turning his sightless eyes in the direction of the voice. “Why do you persist in this foolishness?”

  “Because you persist in your denials. You need only open your mouth and I will set you free.”

  From somewhere deep within his frail form, spirit bubbled to life. Brother Leland parted his lips and defiantly opened his mouth.

  A silence as absolute as death fell upon the room. Would Edwin beat him? Would he finally release him from this purgatory? Leland was not afraid to die, but he was weary of hunger and waiting. How long had he been imprisoned here with little to drink and less to eat?

  “Solve the riddle and I will feed you. Tell me how to find the treasure and I will let you go.” Edwin’s voice finally cut through the tension.

  Leland sighed. So, it would go on. “The riddle, like the legend, is nothing more than superstitious nonsense. I’m a man of God. I’d be foolish indeed to believe in those blasphemous tales. I told you this before you departed for Windsor Castle. If I were hiding some great secret, would I not have told you by now?”

  “How do you account for what Gaston told me?” Edwin demanded.

  He heard the scuffle of Edwin’s boots, could picture his physical advance. But visual intimidation was wasted on him. “Gaston was dying when he insisted that I understood the riddle. You told me yourself he was nearly mad with the pain. He was babbling nonsense. You must accept the fact and make things right or God Himself will judge you.”

  “I’m not afraid of your god,” Edwin stated. “Nor do I believe in a fiery hell where evil men shall suffer for all eternity.”

  “Yet you accept this legend as fact?” Brother Leland challenged. “It’s harder to believe in a Benevolent Maker than in a Fairy curse?”

  “Why would a benevolent maker allow his servant to rot away in a cage? Why has your god not smote me dead and set you free?”

  “Who am I to question the ways of God? I yet live, and if you slay me I’ll go on to my eternal reward. Do as you please and I’ll pray for your soul.”

  “The world has had its share of martyrs, Brother Leland. I’m not yet ready to deprive myself of your company.”

  Leland snorted and shook his shaggy head. “I cannot solve the riddle, so set me free or end it now. I have no preference.”

  Edwin was silent for a long time. “I have misjudged you.”

  Leland’s bony hand moved to the simple wooden cross that hung around his neck. “How so, my lord?”

  There was no reply.

  Heavy footfalls announced his captor’s departure, but Leland didn’t hear the door close. His heartbeat became painful and he scrambled to get his legs beneath him. Straw abraded his knees and one foot caught against an uneven stone. Was he intended to escape?

  Heaving with all his might, Leland pushed himself upright on trembling legs. How would he ever get away when he could hardly stand?

  There was no specific sound, no shift in the air, but suddenly he knew he was no longer alone. “Is someone there?” He extended his hands in front of him.

  Warm fingers encircled his upper arm and Leland gasped.

  “Come with me,” a stranger’s voice said softly. “I will not hurt you.”

  Fear uncurled with brutal intensity. Have I always been a coward?

  “Where are you taking me?” The stranger helped him toward the door.

  “I’m to clean you up and find something to fill your belly.”

  The voice belonged to either a lad or a young woman, but Leland wasn’t certain which. The hand on his arm was gentle yet strong. “What’s your name, child?” He was too exhausted to puzzle it out.

  The stranger navigated him out of the cell and turned him toward the right. “Nan, Brother Leland. I’ve not seen you in many years, but I remember you.”

  A dark-haired child with large brown eyes and rosy checks flickered to life within Leland’s mind, and he smiled. “Nan. You have a sister named Bess and a brother too if memory serves me.”

  “There be four brothers now. As I said, it’s been many years.” She paused then took several steps farther down the stone corridor. “I cannot believe the evil done in this house. I sometimes fear for my very soul just setting foot in this place.”

  He didn’t respond. They climbed to a landing. “Now what?” He was embarrassed that his legs were trembling from the strain of so simple a task.

  “Rest a spell then I’ll take you to the kitchen.” Nan rested a comforting hand on his narrow shoulder.

  Leland took a long, deep breath, trying in vain to convince himself that his ordeal was nearly over.

  * * * * *

  Submerged to her chin in warm, scented water, Rowena did her best to relax, but as Thora had suspected, she was still simmering. She had hoped to return with her future secured forever, but William Marshal had spoiled her plans. How did one fall in love with all due haste? The regent scowled at her from one side while Fair Fiona pressured her from the other.

  “What are you brooding about?” Thora asked. She held a pitcher of clean water for Rowena’s hair.

  “There has to be some way to thwart that man. I must have time to make a love match.”

  Thora paused beside the bathing tub, the pitcher resting against her hip. “Which man are we thwarting now?”

  “William Marshal.” Rowena looked up at Thora as she began to laugh. “Why are you laughing?”

  “You’ve grown so bored tormenting knights and barons that you’ll now provoke King Henry’s regent? He is an old man. You might well kill him with your antics.”

  Rowena sat up straight in the wooden tub, abandoning all pretence at relaxation. “He insists I need a husband immediately to protect myself and my holdings.” Rowena began to scrub herself vigorously. “Could not those same protections be provided by mercenaries and a personal guard?”

  Thora’s amusement faded away. “I thought we had this settled last night. If William Marshal bid you marry, you had best get yourself a husband.”

  “But think about it, Thora. If I reinforce my household guards and hire someone to see to my personal safety, then there w
ould be no need for an immediate wedding. I must marry for love this time or the curse will continue to the next generation.”

  Thora set the pitcher down beside the tub and sank to her knees. Rowena looked up into her face when Thora laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You know I believe in the curse, Rowena, but that is not what troubles you. I think you’re frightened. You’re hiding behind the curse to avoid marriage altogether.”

  “I will wed again. But I must have time to find a man—”

  “You cannot fight William Marshal.”

  “I will not fight him, exactly. I will only find a less conventional way of fulfilling his expectations.”

  The compassion in Thora’s bright blue eyes made Rowena fidget. She needed an ally to support her scheme, not the voice of reason.

  “It might put him off for a time, but eventually you will need an heir. You have no siblings, no male relatives. The closest you can come to kin is Edwin, and I thought we were trying to keep Pendragon out of his hands.”

  Rowena threw a wet chunk of soap as hard as she could. It bounced off the wall and went skidding across the floor, leaving a slimy trail in its wake.

  “Feel better?” Thora gently mocked her tantrum.

  “I cannot do it, Thora.” Her bottom lip trembled and she drew her knees up to her chest. Indulging her temper had only robbed her of anger’s strength. “I cannot pledge my troth and promise to obey.”

  “You could find some sniveling fool who will scramble to do your bidding. Or at least a man who is easily intimidated. Of course that’s not the sort of man I’d want in my bed, but it might pacify Sir William.”

  “I don’t know many timid knights,” Rowena grumbled. “Besides, he made it clear that he expects to approve my choice.”

  “And what sort of man will he approve?”

  Glancing at her handmaiden, Rowena said, “Sir Dominic’s sort.”

  She stood and bent forward so Thora could rinse her hair. This was the pose that had sent Dominic over the edge. Or nearly over the edge. Goose flesh broke out on her arms, but Rowena blamed it on a nonexistent draft.

  “Have you spoken with him?” Thora apparently guessed her thoughts.

  “Nay. I’m not sure there is anything left to say.”

  Thora handed her a drying cloth and Rowena stepped from the tub. She wrapped herself in the soft cloth and accepted the second, smaller cloth meant for her long hair.

  “Are you in love with him?” Thora gaze studied her intently.

  Rowena bit off an immediate denial. “I don’t know. He affects me as no man ever has, but I cannot trust him.”

  “Do you believe what you heard those men say? Is he capable of murder?”

  Rowena started to defend him, when doubt held the words at bay. She had glimpsed the dark, ruthless side to Dominic’s nature only the night before. Undaunted. He would have what he desired and nothing would stand in his way.

  “I don’t know.” The admission tore at Rowena’s heart.

  “Then stay away from him.”

  Rowena accepted the advice with a stiff nod. “Have you seen Milton?”

  “That’s where I’m bound as soon as you’ve finished with me.”

  “Then be gone.” Rowena dismissed her with a halfhearted smile.

  Thora didn’t hesitate.

  She left the solar and quietly closed the door. Pausing in the stairwell, she transformed, dissolving her human glamour and returning to her Fairy shape. She’d sent Fearsome Dragon to spy on Dominic, hoping a male could garner a clearer perspective of the enigmatic knight.

  The dragon drifted out of the soldier barracks, his hulking form only visible to her. “What did you hear? Does the knight have Sir William’s permission to seduce Rowena?” Her voice melded with the wind, blended with the night sounds until no human could discern her words.

  “Despite his men’s continual encouragement, the knight did not speak of private matters.”

  She harrumphed, twirling rapidly with the exhalation. “Just what we need. A secretive man.”

  Fearsome Dragon chuckled. “Leave them alone, Fiona. If it’s meant to be, they’ll come together on their own.” He drifted out into the night.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Away from these cursed walls. Summon me if I’m needed.”

  Fearsome Dragon was right. This was best left alone. The human couple felt desire for each other, but attraction wasn’t enough. They must love each other. Love couldn’t be forced. And unfortunately, it couldn’t be rushed.

  Fiona searched the bailey for a secluded place to transform. Milton was waiting for her. He was amusing for a mortal, good-natured and kind. Still her lack of progress frustrated her. She was ready to go home. She missed the Fairy realm. Even missed her obnoxious father.

  Dominic strode out of the barracks, moonlight glistening in his freshly washed hair. Quickly masking her presence, Fair Fiona studied him. Strength and purpose emanated from his posture and movements. Here was a man who knew what he wanted and was not afraid to pursue a goal.

  But murder?

  She flew backward in front of him, perusing his face. There was no cruelty in his eyes, no barbarism.

  This was not a murderer.

  Where was he bound?

  His present course would take him… Surely, he wasn’t headed where he appeared to be headed.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, he climbed to Rowena’s solar. Fiona flew in his wake, knowing she couldn’t interfere. The outer room was empty, as was the bedchamber. Rowena must be in the wardrobe.

  He unfastened his sword and placed it within reach.

  The curtain leading to the wardrobe slid open and Rowena stood framed in the opening, a candle clasped in one hand. Her eyes widened as they focused on him.

  Fiona watched desire ignite in the lady’s gaze, a soul-deep longing that made Fiona ache just looking at it. This was more than physical attraction. The air was sweet with deeper, richer emotions.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You knew I would come. We have unfinished business, you and I.”

  Encouraged by the unexpected progress, Fiona flew from the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Dominic stood beside the bed, his gaze fixed on Rowena. Her hand trembled so badly he feared she’d drop the candle. Her face appeared fresh and rosy in the soft candlelight, and his suspicion that she wore nothing beneath the dressing gown fueled his imagination.

  He’d frightened her the night before. He’d moved too quickly and she panicked. His determination to have her had not lessened, so he spent most of the day praying for patience.

  “I shall scream.”

  “Perhaps.” Her brow furrowed at his taunt and he smiled. “The guard at the foot of your stairs is my man. He has orders to keep anyone and everyone at bay. For this one night, Rowena, you are mine.”

  “I belong to no man!”

  “This isn’t about possession. It’s about passion. This moment became inevitable when you first touched me.” He moved toward her slowly, commanding her attention with his gaze. “Tell me honestly that you don’t want me and I’ll leave.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  He took the candle from her hand. “I can accept that.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m seducing you.”

  “You’re seducing Pendragon Castle.”

  Dominic shook his head. “Not tonight. Tonight we are only a man and a woman. There is no past and no tomorrow, just this room, and you and I.”

  She turned around. He could see her shoulders tremble. “I cannot pretend, Dominic, not even for one night. Too many people depend upon me. If I make a wrong decision it affects the lives of—”

  “I know what William asked of you,” he interrupted. “When you’re ready to marry again, your husband will expect a widow not a virgin.”

  She whirled around. A strand of her damp hair whipped his fac
e. “How do you know what William Marshal said to me?”

  Dominic took a deep breath and chose his next words more carefully. “There is no other resolution to your dilemma. You must find a husband. What else could he have said to you?”

  “And what did he tell you?”

  He didn’t want to lie to her, but he wouldn’t allow her suspicions to compromise his purpose. She would sleep in his arms this night. The rest they could negotiate on the morrow. “He told me to stay long enough to find out whether or not you carry my child.”

  “I do not, you may go.”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. She looked so adorably affronted. “Rowena, you’re making this much too complicated. I want to make love to you. That’s all I want.”

  “Rubbish. You want it all. Just like Edwin, you want everything.”

  Her words stung. He had expected them, perhaps even deserved them, but they made him angry all the same. “Not tonight. Tonight is for us. Dominic and Rowena. Nothing else.”

  “Unless you plant your child in my womb, then William Marshal will make sure you get more than just one night.”

  “There are ways to prevent conception, Rowena.” She stared back at him in silent confusion, obviously unaware of what he meant. “I will not spill my seed inside your body then there can be no child. But we will have this night.”

  She said nothing, so he turned and walked back to the bed. Setting the candle on the stone shelf, he sat and took off his boots. She stood where he’d left her, silent and uncertain. He drew off his tunic and tossed it aside. Her eyes followed his every move.

  Standing again, he shed his braies. Dominic waited for her to emerge from her stupor. Her eyes widened as her gaze moved over his naked body. He knew that his body was a testament to his life, hard and honed by battle. She seemed pleased, he supposed, interested certainly.

  “I cannot do this.” He could barely hear her words.

  He strode back across the chamber and stood before her. “Touch me,” he whispered.

  She shook her head.

  He took her hand and splayed it across the middle of his chest. “Feel how my heart pounds.” Rowena curved her fingers into the flesh of his powerful chest. She had dreamed of this, longed for this, and he knew it. His heart hammered against her palm, and she felt her own heart take on the same rhythm.