by Karalynn Lee
“I can’t return.”
“You don’t think he’d take you back?”
“He might,” Beatris said. “He shouldn’t. I would never again trust anyone who dealt with me like the way I did him.”
“But you did this for him.”
“Of course.” Beatris smiled faintly. “The mountain-king has never wed, you know. I couldn’t let anything happen to his betrothed.”
She tried a different tactic. “Speaking of which, it’s a dangerous journey up the mountain—”
“I think you’ll be safe enough without my escort this time,” Beatris said, undeceived.
It had been a weak scheme anyhow. She surrendered. “You’ll be sure of your welcome in Anagard, at least.”
Beatris arched her brows. “Where they don’t allow women to become soldiers?”
“You might change that.”
Her expression turned speculative. “I have plans, but perhaps later…”
“I’ve written Dereth about you. He knows he’d be lucky to have you. You’re the one who kept me from being kidnapped by Kenasgate.”
“Much good that did,” Beatris said dryly.
Kimri flushed. “I’m going back to Helsmont.”
Beatris studied her and then nodded, satisfied by whatever she saw. “Good. The king may not be human, but if anything that means he has compassion for all creatures. He won’t do ill by you. And he’s been alone long enough.”
“I already said I’m going!”
“Then go,” Beatris said, and took her own advice.
She returned to her brother, who looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She could feel that his frame was gaunter than usual, but there was a sure strength in his touch that told her he’d fully recover.
“What did you and the commandant speak about?”
“Commandant no more.” She craned her head to catch his expression, which was much an echo of Beatris’s when she’d mentioned the possibility of a position in Anagard. “She might come by later to speak with you.”
“I’d be glad of it. We’ve lost many good soldiers. She could train more.”
“To fight against Kenasgate?” she asked, dismayed.
“I think that’s settled for now. No one will dare take a step across that river with bloody intent. But without a war to unite us, the lords of the noble houses will eventually turn against each other again.”
“No rest for you.”
“There’ll be a few years of peace, enough time for children to grow older. I’ll plot strategic marriages among the noble houses. Since the last betrothal I made worked out so well.”
She winced, then parried. “It would have gone better if you hadn’t gotten yourself captured.”
“Yes, I supposed I should get myself properly freed as a ransom-prisoner.” He rubbed his face before glancing about. The soldiers were regrouping, and across the river she could see the king of Kenasgate speaking animatedly with one of his commandants. Everyone had instinctively fled the bridge in the direction of his own realm.
They collected Peramin, who kept throwing her anxious looks as though he believed she might call up dragons to fight on a whim, and returned to the dragon’s spine to resume negotiations. The riverbank had turned into a quagmire of silt and mud, and they sank nearly to their knees in the stuff. Even so, Dereth stepped onto the solid surface of the bridge gingerly. Everyone held his breath. The waters did not rise, nor did the dragon.
“We need to build a new bridge,” were Dereth’s first words to the king of Kenasgate, when his contingent came out to meet them. “I don’t trust this one.”
The king of Kenasgate nodded. “I almost wish that—the mountain-king,” he stumbled a little over the words, “had slain this one.” He kept his words oblique and gestured downward instead of saying aloud anything that might anger the river-dragon.
“Then it might be the mountain-king who would now rule the river between our realms,” Dereth pointed out.
The king of Kenasgate grimaced. “Indeed. Very well, I can supply half the material and builders. I suppose we’ll want to open up trade, now that there’s little chance any of our soldiers will willingly cross either the river or into the mountains in pursuit of war.”
“I’m free, then? And my sister?”
The king heaved a sigh. “It’s over.”
“No swords as ransom?”
“To use in what war?”
Dereth wisely didn’t protest further.
The king eyed him. “You’ll rescind your challenge on Leden?”
“That didn’t end well,” Dereth conceded. He didn’t let matters rest there, though. “How else can he pay for what he did?”
She said before anyone else could speak, “Take him to Anagard.”
The king of Kenasgate scowled at her. “If we’re no longer at war, why would you take a prisoner?”
“Not as a prisoner. A guest at court. He’ll have to learn to live peaceably with the people of Anagard. And Dereth, you’ll get to keep an eye on him and help change him into the sort of man who won’t throw people into forsaken dungeons.”
Neither king looked convinced.
“It would make Kenasgate think twice about attacking again,” she told Dereth. And to the king of that realm, “You’d like a spy in the court anyway. This way he’ll be right in the thick of things, and even be fed and housed.”
“You don’t want a more dire punishment?”
She blinked at the king. “More dire than having to attend court in Anagard?”
A smile tugged at the corner of Dereth’s mouth. “The idea has merit.”
The king of Kenasgate harrumphed but called for his son.
She quietly moved away. She might speak prettily about Leden when peace was at stake, but she didn’t think she could face him and treat him civilly. The sight of him still took her back to her prison and made her guts roil.
Someone called her name and she turned. Herrol had accompanied his brother to the kings and now rode across the bridge toward her. The Anagard soldiers around her bristled, but she waved them down and they obeyed. There was a time, before she had sword-danced with the river-dragon, when they wouldn’t have listened.
When Herrol caught up to her and swung himself down from the saddle, an awkward silence reigned. She dug the toe of her boot into the earth while he seemed to find the reins in his hands of great import.
“Are you going back to Anagard?” he finally asked.
“At first. Then to Helsmont.”
He couldn’t hide the flash of hurt that came across his face. “If he wanted you, why didn’t he take you with him?”
She hadn’t needed to ask the mountain-king the same question because she knew the answer. “Because I left him.”
“And so he abandons you in turn?”
“And so he leaves me a choice. The last time I went to Helsmont it was reluctantly at best. He knew I was under duress, and that I missed my brother and Anagard. He promised to let me go if I wanted. This is my chance.”
“But you don’t want to stay in Anagard anymore.”
“No.”
He started to reach for her hand but pulled back. He exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair before looking back at her. “Would you ever have considered marrying me?”
She let out a long breath of her own, clinging to patience. “Maybe. Before I met the mountain-king.”
He flinched.
“Herrol!” It was the king of Kenasgate.
“You should go,” she said.
Herrol paused before mounting. “I’ll always have this to remember you by.” He touched his broken nose. His smile was just as crooked.
“Farewell, Herrol,” she said, and he rode off.
Her cut arm suddenly began throbbing fiercely. She waited for Dereth to finish negotiations so they could return to the capitol. And then she could go back home.
Chapter Ten
It took weeks for the kingdoms to settle into a grudging truce,
and even as she watched the process with satisfaction, she fretted over the shortening days that marked the turn of summer. Dereth kept insisting she put off her departure just a little longer, and when he became betrothed to a daughter of one of the noble houses, she felt obligated to stay and witness the ceremony. She barely paid attention to it, though, too preoccupied with thoughts of her own betrothal.
He finally let her go when Leden was due to arrive, and even then only with two-dozen soldiers to escort her. He warned her that if she complained, he would only add more. She had complained, he had added more men, and she had stopped protesting.
“Remember what happened last time?” he said.
“I don’t think Kenasgate will dare try another ambush,” she said. “You’re being ridiculous.”
He put on an exaggeratedly solemn face. “I’m still your king and you must obey me.”
“For a few more days, at least.” She forced herself to face the starkest possible future. “If he’ll still take me as bride.”
He dropped the joking mien immediately. “Of course he will.”
“I ran away with his hostage, remember?”
He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. “I think he’ll care less that you freed his hostage, and more that you’re returning.”
She hugged Dereth for saying aloud what she hoped. “If you’re right, you’ll have a dragon as a brother-in-marriage.”
He gave her a pained look. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
“The lords of the noble houses will probably stop defying you if you threaten them with it.”
“But first you have to make a brother-in-marriage out of him for me. Stop dragging your feet and go. The soldiers are ready and waiting.”
“All twenty-eight of them,” she muttered as she mounted the horse he’d given her. The mare was no Redwing, but she had intelligent eyes and a pleasing gait.
“Did you want to make it thirty?”
She hastily nudged her steed into motion. This parting was much easier. This time she left to the sound of his laughter.
Twenty-eight men didn’t move quickly, and she chafed at their pace. Neither did they provide much distraction while traveling, offering only stilted responses to her questions and treating her with a painfully careful respect that seemed to forbid any smiles or laughter. She remembered her time disguised as a soldier, and knew this was nowhere near their usual behavior.
She was persistent, and learned that the commandant had served directly under Dereth in several battles. It made her think more kindly of him. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with escort duty,” she told him.
“It’s an honor, my princess,” he said, so sincerely that she didn’t dare try another jest. He seemed to sense her discomfort and struggled with his own before speaking on. “I have a daughter.” She perked up. It was the first time he’d volunteered any information about himself. “She’s still young, but I can only hope she’ll be granted every measure of safety when she travels to her future husband’s home.”
Only with great willpower did she resist advising him to teach the girl how to land a solid punch. That had helped save her from Herrol’s abduction, after all. “She’s lucky to have a father like you.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her as much as I’ve wished to. The war dragged on far too long.”
“At least it’s over now.” Although who knew how long the peace would last. Surely it would endure, having been dragon-sealed. Dereth would do his best to uphold it, and the king of Kenasgate seemed to have healed a little from his bitterness toward Anagard. When Herrol succeeded him, she hoped he would work toward building a friendship between the two realms. She didn’t dare hope for much from Leden yet, but he might one day foster deeper ties as well. And surely the lords of the noble houses would lie quiescent for a time. None of their soldiers would be eager to return to war either. There were fields to plow and children to raise.
When she couldn’t coax more conversation out of the commandant—which was most of the time—she kept an eye on the skies. The clouds and their hints of rain didn’t worry her so much as the lack of a telltale feathered silhouette. But she spied the eagle the day they reached the base of the mountain, wings outspread as it soared by lazily, as though it were flying over them as they entered Helsmont by mere coincidence. She knew better.
She called a stop. “This is far enough.”
The commandant looked uncomfortable. “We’re to escort you safely to Helsmont, my princess.”
“We’re in Helsmont. We just crossed the border. I’m safe, and the mountain-king will see to me from here.” She didn’t mention the eagle high above.
The soldiers looked around warily. Now that they knew the mountain-king was a dragon, any mention of him evoked awe and fear. As though on cue, a rumble came from the rocks high above.
She hid her own startlement. “He’s a mountain-dragon. Do you remember what the river-dragon could do with water?” But one of the younger soldiers looked so frightened at her words that she regretted them. She added, “Not that he would ever hurt anyone. I just meant that he has the power to protect me.” The way he had gone to the mines to protect his buried men.
Her stubbornness and the soldiers’ nervousness made the commandant yield. “Very well, Princess. But I would respectfully ask that the king show himself through more than tremors, so I can at least report that I left you in his presence.”
A sleek figure seemed to lift itself from the rock-face, its wings unfolding so its outline could be made out despite the variegated gray scales that had camouflaged it. Kimri took an involuntary step back before she recognized the shape of a dragon. The soldiers were warier, the young one even crying out and reaching for his bow, but their horses remained surprisingly calm.
“My thanks, King.” The commandant bowed in the saddle. He gestured to his men to turn about, which they did with alacrity.
She watched them depart. The commandant looked back just before he dropped out of sight, and she raised a hand to reassure him. She hoped he would see his daughter soon.
At last she was alone. She peered at the rocks but couldn’t tell whether the dragon was still there. She didn’t think so. “Tathan?”
He stepped out from under the cover of trees as a man.
She couldn’t hold herself back. Heedless of dignity, she ran to him. His eyes lit and he lifted her and crushed her to him. He kissed her hair, her eyes, her mouth as she clung to him. “My heart,” he said between kisses. Then he set her a little bit apart from him. She tried to pull his head back down, but he stopped her.
“We should talk first.”
“About your being a dragon.”
“Yes.”
She subsided because she had her share of questions, although she still leaned into his heat and let her hands rest over his to ensure he wouldn’t let go of her. “All right. Why do you take human-form?”
His expression grew distant. “I once slept deep within the mountain caves, just as the river-dragon sleeps now with the water running over her. Miners came and woke me. I discovered that they had a king, and I fought him over the claim to the mountains.”
“In a sword-dance.”
“Yes. It’s the only way humans can challenge us, since they can’t change shape. So for them we limit ourselves to one form and two swords. Even so, the king lost to me. He had no heir, and I discovered I had won not only the domain, but the people who lived in it. They intrigued me, and I learned their ways.”
She thought of his patience as she learned mountain customs. He too had once been unfamiliar with them.
“But although I came to love my people, I always felt apart from them. I wanted to be one of them in truth. I thought that to lose my dragon nature was the only way.”
“Lose your dragon nature?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Dragons are long-lived. But there’s an even older legend about how, if a dragon holds a single shape for a hundred years, he will truly become that creatur
e and be dragon no more.”
She couldn’t imagine committing herself to anything for an entire century. “How long were you a man before all this?”
“Over nine decades.”
Herrol had once mentioned how the mountain-kings were indistinguishable. No wonder, if they had all been the same man. Or rather, a single dragon yearning to become human.
He had nearly succeeded until he had been called to take up the dance of a hundred shapes. He did that to save me. She swallowed. “And now?”
“And now I’m still as you met me—a dragon shaped like a man. But with no hope of sharing your life as truly one of your kind.” His voice gentled, and his gaze upon her was wistful. “I’ll set aside my dragon-self again. But I don’t know if it’s enough for you.”
Does he really think I came all the way here only to spurn him? “I knew what you were when I traveled here.” Her voice broke. “You came to the river for my sake. I thought you never left Helsmont.”
“Only for a grave need.”
“I need you,” she said fiercely, and kissed him. She poured everything she felt for him into that kiss, all her wonder and acceptance and desire. He would have as much of her as she could give, for however long she could be with him.
He was hesitant at first, disbelieving. She pressed closer until she felt him respond, and he kissed her back with a thoroughness that left her breathless and up on her toes, seeking more even as he drew away a handsbreadth.
“Kimri…”
“My heart,” she said, and that sealed it for him. He took the words from her with his mouth moving warmly upon hers.
He kissed her until she was dizzy with heat and want, left arching into his touch. She grew greedy in turn for the feel of his skin, and he laughed—she still felt a thrill of victory at making him do so—as he let her tug off his clothes. His nakedness in all its hues and textures fascinated her. She explored it with both hands, eliciting new sounds from him until he pushed her off and claimed her garments in turn, but without her haste. He peeled them away one inch at a time with excruciating care that made her squirm.
He followed the path of her desire with light fingertips and then, teasingly, his tongue. She laughed and cursed and tried to think of it as sword-dancing; tried to counter his movements with her own, find a vulnerability, slip in an attack of her own. She managed to lure him back up her body. His breaths came fast and harsh now, and she stole them, gasped out her own. They fit themselves to each other in endless ways: lips, hands and then the final deepest joining, which brought her to a glorious triumph and even sweeter surrender.