Pseudo-Dragon (The Blue Dragon's Geas Book 4)

by Matthynssens, Cheryl

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning, Alador had been unable to put on any of his armor due to the burns covering his body. The night before had dragged on endlessly. The servants had filled a cool bath for him, but it had done little to ease the pain. The way back to the caverns was agonizing as the cloth of his robes seemed to rub some burn with every step. Alador reported straight to the healer’s quarters upon entering the caverns. Alador was thankful that someone was always in the healing quarter regardless of the hour.

  He limped into the room slowly and called for help. A man that he knew as Jasper came from behind the curtains that separated patients from the entry chamber. He took one look at Alador and led him to a bed where he eased Alador down carefully.

  “What happened, Alador?” came the simple question. “You look as if you fell into a fire pit.”

  “Seems I earned my uncle’s anger and retribution.” Alador groaned out.

  Jasper left his side for a moment and came back with scissors. Alador put up a staying hand. “No need.” He dispelled his robe and the soft leather boots. He had formed them around his body as donning anything had been nearly impossible.

  The healer’s gasp of breath only confirmed his own suspicions. “It is that bad?” Alador tried to look down at his chest, but every movement seemed to hurt.

  “Was the High Minister attempting to kill you, or did you just stand still and let him roast you like prang on the pit?” Jasper’s sarcasm was edged with distaste. He shouted towards the curtains. “Dina, fetch two bottles of numbing water.”

  He looked back at Alador. “It would be bad for the common folk on the farmlands, but for us it is less so.” The healer stated calmly. “I have not seen such burns in a long time." Jasper smiled at Alador, his eyes holding a calm reassurance.

  “Yes, well my uncle seemed quite intent on making sure you saw them now,” Alador murmured. He winced as the older man began to clean his burns. Despite his attempt to be stoic, a moan of pain escaped.

  “I am surprised you are conscious to be honest.” The healer was as gentle as he could be. Dina came in with two flasks. Jasper wet a new rag with this numbing water and continued to clean the wounds. Alador could see the concern on her face as she took her own rag and set to cleaning burns on the other side of him.

  “Can’t you just cast a spell and heal it?” Alador grimaced despite the tenderness of the man.

  “I could.” Jasper stated solemnly. “However, healing closed skin that has such filth ground into it is likely to cause an infection.” He paused to look Alador in the eye and had a grim look. “Not everything should be solved with magic.”

  Alador nodded. He remembered Sordith saying something similarly. He was now thankful for the numbing water. He had not felt the burning as much as the force of the blows. Alador wondered if that had been due to similarities with heated water; it had not bothered him either. However, the boiling bathing pool in Smallbrook had not left the open lesions like those that the fire arrows had left in their wake. These left a residual burning and trail of pain across his body. The numbing water was fulfilling its name as Jasper and Dina cleaned.

  After the front of him had been bathed, they helped ease him onto his stomach, then began to minister to his back. He must have passed out or fell asleep because he awakened to find himself tucked into a healer’s cot. Alador realized that he felt no pain. He looked about and seeing no one close by, he peeked under the cover and was relieved to see that while his skin was still pink and tender, the open wounds and blisters were all gone.

  “I am sure everything was as you left it,” Nemara teased from near his head.

  Alador swiftly put the cover down. Where had she come from? “That was not what I was checking." He blushed lightly which only made her laugh.

  “Sure it wasn’t.” She moved to sit down beside him on the bed. “He went at you hard, I heard. You okay?” She glanced at his face with genuine concern. She took his hand carefully as if touching him might hurt.

  He moved to sit up and realized everything was still somewhat tender. “Yes. I have never seen him that angry, but I have heard stories.” He watched as Nemara tensed.

  “Yes. There are stories.” She shook off the strange look on her face. “So, a few were worried this changes things. With the High Minister coming here and all.” She pushed a loose hair back into her tightly woven hair.

  “It changes nothing. My uncle will have me test for tier placement and, if I pass, then our plans can move forward.” He reached and took her hand. “Here I thought you were worried about me.”

  Rolling her eyes, she got up. She threw him a robe. “Healer says to quit taking up space.” She did not bother to turn away as he threw the covers back and pulled on the robe. “Rest of your things are already in your room.”

  He motioned for her to turn around which brought a look of amusement. “Seriously? I have seen you naked.” She crossed her arm and grinned at him with a look of pure mischief.

  Alador sighed and pulled the robe over his head, pulling it down carefully before removing the covers to stand. Alador managed to make it to his feet. “Nemara, do you have any passes?”

  She grinned. “I do, but I don’t know if I like you enough to give you one of them,” she teased.

  “I don’t dare leave the caverns right now.” He let her hook her arm in his as she guided him out of the healer’s hall. “I was thinking you could get a message out for me?”

  “Oooh, secret stuff. I haven’t taken a day out in a while.” She drew herself up. “Maybe some nice man will take me for a drink.” Her teasing glance was coy and suggestive. “Should I wear a dress?” She smoothed a hand over her curves.

  Alador’s long tolerant sigh brought out a giggle from Nemara. He checked behind them and seeing the hall empty of others, he murmured softly. “I need a message taken to the Trench Lord.” He about fell over when Nemara stopped.

  “You are kidding, right? No one just wanders into Trench Hall.” She was staring at him wide-eyed. “You hit your head too, didn’t you?” She grabbed his face, turning his head left then right.

  Alador pulled her hands loose and they continued walking. “I have a…” He searched for the right word. “Pact with the man,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper.

  “How, by the gods, did you manage that one?” She whispered as they passed a couple of others headed for their own rooms.

  “I have my own ways about things just as you.” Alador smiled at her. “And they don’t involve tight vests and low slung tunics.”

  They walked a few steps when suddenly pain shot through his arm. “Ow!” he exclaimed realizing that Nemara had punched him in the arm. “What was that for?”

  “I hardly do that.” She glared at him.

  “Oh? So that first evening we met and went to talk at the hidden pool, that was all just a cover?” He grinned and laughed lightly at the pout that formed in response to his words. “I would hate to think I made you suffer too greatly.”

  She leaned up as a couple of guards passed them by and whispered into his ear. “Keep it up and you will suffer in ways you cannot imagine. I am very good at well placed thorns.”

  He winced not only at the idea of where she might put such thorns, but also because at that moment she reminded him of Mesiande. He put up both hands as if to pacify her. “All right, all right… you win.” He laughed as she pulled him down the hallway.

  Neither one spoke till they slipped into his room. He was intent on checking to make sure his weapons had been placed securely. Finally, Nemara that broke the silence. “Were you serious?”

  “About a message to the Trench Lord?” He turned to look at her. “Yes.”

  “It will be safe for me to go alone?”

  Alador moved to Nemara and put a hand on both of her arms. He gazed into her wide eyes hoping to reassure her. “You would be in more danger in the trench itself than from the Trench Lord.” He pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “
Just wear your armor, no one is going to tussle with a member of the Blackguard.” He gave her a gentle kiss. “Everyone knows that they are not only fighter trained, but mage born as well.” He let go of her and moved to his desk.

  Nemara jumped backwards onto his bed much like an excited child considering what he said as Alador picked up a quill to scratch out a quick note to Sordith. “So, it is true then, those Daezun with casting abilities can test out of the Blackguard and into the tiers?”

  Alador dipped the quill into the ink and carefully blotted it before beginning to write his note. “I suspect only those that can reach fourth or fifth tier will be allowed out of the Blackguard,” he said, his voice held a tone of absent musing.

  “Mmmm, I see.” She was quiet for a moment then asked. “When you take this test, are you leaving the guard?” Nemara’s voice held a strangled sound to it. So much so that Alador stopped his scratching on the piece of parchment to look at her.

  He thought about this for a moment. “Yes,” he said, watching her closely.

  “How will we coordinate?” She was toying with a loose string on his quilt.

  “Well, you do get half-days. If I succeed, I will give you a pass to come see me on your half-days,” he offered as he signed his name to the note with a flourish. He put the quill back in its stand and turned to look at her rather than sanding the note. “It seems the easiest solution, especially since everyone already believes we're seeing one another,” his answer matter-of-fact.

  “Aren’t we?” She looked up from the thread.

  Alador moved to her in confusion. “Aren’t we what?”

  She searched his eyes. “Seeing one another?” Came her soft reply, it held a slight edge of hurt.

  Alador took a deep breath and sat down beside her. He took her hand to comfort her. He enjoyed Nemara’s company, and she was a skilled lover and genuinely joyful person. “I suppose on some level we are, but not in the way that others think.” Realizing how heartless that sounded, he attempted to rationalize his answer. “We both have a lot on our hands right now.”

  Nemara bit her lip as she eyed him. “Is that because of this poor history you have had with women?” Her usual confident and sensual manner had fled in the face of her pain at his answer.

  Alador had hoped this conversation would not happen. He did not want to damage the planning that was going into taking down the bloodmine. They just stared at each other for a long moment before Alador sat on the bed beside her and took her hand. He had kept things between them either light and playful or business. He had let her know little of his past other than the things that were necessary or to confirm or deny rumors she would ask him about. “I guess it is time I told you some things about me.”

  Alador began to talk, just looking at Nemara’s hand. His thumb traced the vein that stood out on the back of her hand as he spoke. He told her everything about Smallbrook, Mesiande, and the bloodstone. He ended his tale with Mesiande’s visit to Silverport. The only things he did not reveal was Sordith’s relationship to him, that Henrick was really a dragon, or the fact he had absorbed a dragon within his own form. Silence filled the space between them, the kind that you could almost cut with a knife. Seconds turned to minutes as she sat absorbing all he had shared. Alador did not look at her as he was not sure what to expect. The truth had become his best weapon against his uncle, but with Nemara, he had everything to lose.

  Nemara spoke and Alador was startled out of his quiet musing. “It was quite stupid, you know.” There was a distance in her eyes and voice that had not been there before.

  Alador sighed. “Which part?” At least she had not pulled her hand away and went stomping off, he thought to himself. “

  “Telling Mesiande that she could stay but only as a bed slave,” she pointed out. “I think of all the things you have told me and I have seen you do, that is the dumbest thing you have ever said.” Her voice had lost some of the pain that had been present before he had opened up to her.

  Alador winced when she pointed out his error that he still held with great remorse. “So I have been told.” He unconsciously ran his hand over his jaw where Sordith had hit him. “I still love her. I … I just don’t know how to fix it now.”

  She groaned at his answer. “Why are men so dumb?” She tossed his hand aside.

  “What?” He looked up and glared at her.

  “Seriously,” she interrupted before he could say more. She turned to face him, sitting cross-legged on the bed, pulling her hand away. “You go apologize for being such an arrogant shite!”

  “I hardly think an apology is going to be enough,” he sighed, running his hand through his unbound hair.

  “Maybe it won’t be, but it is sort of where you need to start.” She reached over and tugged his hand from his hair to hold it. “If she can’t forgive you, well then you know you can move on. If she does forgive you, it is a start to rebuilding her trust. If she is as wonderful as you describe, well, she is probably going to make you work for it.”

  “What makes you say that?” Alador eyed her with curious concern.

  Nemara shrugged. “It is what I would do if you were that stupid with me.” She grinned. “Though I have an advantage,” she quipped playfully.

  “Oh,” he grinned back. “What is that?”

  “I can kick your arse in the ring anytime I want to.” Nemara’s eyes danced with merriment. “So if you are stupid, I can just beat sense into you with the flat of my blade.”

  “I hardly think so,” Alador rolled his eyes and coughed a couple times to hide his laughter.

  Nemara hopped off the bed with a grin. “I have seen you fight. You are predictable and you broadcast your next move. The only time I have seen you fight in a way that would give me the least concern is when you tried to kill Toman.” She moved over to his note, she sanded the ink then rolled it up. She slipped it into her vest.

  He glowered at her, but did not comment. His uncle had also called him predictable so it was something he was going to have to look at. “You’re leaving now?” he asked.

  “Healer said you should rest. No fighting today. As all your other classes are done for the day,” she paused as she turned to face him. “You should get some sleep.”

  “You are not staying?” A slight tone of disappointment danced amongst his words as he realized he was becoming used to her presence in his personal quarters.

  Nemara moved to him where he sat on the bed and took both of his hands. “You gave me a lot to think about with your story of lost love and murder.” Her lips twitched into the merest of grins. He noted that her eyes did not hold the same amused glimmer. “Besides, this note of yours must be important if you are asking the Trench Lord to find you.”

  “You read quickly,” he pointed out. He squeezed her hands. “You are right, I am tired. I will see if I can get some rest.” He let her hands go. “Thank you for taking the message.”

  “Yes, well it is what partners do, right?” Her voice was strained and even Alador could tell that her smile was forced. “And if nothing else, we are partners in the big scheme of things.” She turned to head for the door. “Oh, one other thing…” She looked back at him with her hand on the door knob.

  “Yes?” Alador yawned as he realized he was still exhausted despite sleeping in the healer’s quarter, and now that he thought about it he was hungry as well.

  “You missed Master Levielle’s class again.” The look and groan that this jab brought from Alador must have delighted her because he could hear her laughing even after the door shut.

  Alador flopped back onto the bed, grimacing as the tender skin screamed a reminder of his injuries. He was going to have to go to General Levielle’s home after dinner tonight or tomorrow. He decided to wait till tomorrow night, he had faced enough conflict for the day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alador slept most of the rest of the evening, even through dinner despite his hunger. The battle between sleep and hunger waged in moments of waking then sleep
would win. The next morning brought a little more relief from his lesson with his uncle. He was feeling more his usual self although he was still stiff from the work out both in magic and in his muscles. His uncle had made it clear he had much to learn and still far outpaced him in skill.

  In his morning classes, rumors were still flying about the cavern as to what had really happened to the High Master. Everything from that he had simply retired to the possibility that Luthian had killed him. Alador was sure that it was the latter, but he had not specifically asked. Given the temper his uncle had demonstrated, it seemed something Luthian would do. Regardless of what had happened to the High Master, everyone was giving Alador a wide berth today.

  Normally, this would have upset him as it reminded him of a lifetime of being set apart as different. It seemed so long ago, but it had only been several months. However, today he was relieved to be given the space. He was also coming to terms with the fact that he was different, and that there was nothing wrong with that.

  It was not until the midday meal that Nemara made her presence known. She slipped in beside Alador with her usual smile, leaning over to give him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Lord Sordith is quite charming. You would have been better off to warn me about that.” She grinned at the immediate reaction that Alador’s face revealed.

  Alador rolled his eyes. “He has a woman in his life,” he pointed out with a hint of acidic tone.

  “Yes, well unlike you, that does not stop some of us from enjoying ourselves.” Her voice held an edge of teasing as she innocently picked up her fork and began stabbing at the meat on her tray.

  Alador had not thought about the fact that Sordith was much like his father with women, or that he was sending him a rather attractive one. Not only that, but he had told her he was in love with another woman just minutes before she left. “Did you?” he asked softly.