“I thought I’d put that back on the shelf?”
“You did, Your Majesty—but Jenet has sharp eyes,” said Fercha.
“And a keen mind,” said Dârio.
“She said she had you in shah-mat with mate in three,” Fercha added with a smile.
“Perhaps too keen,” said Dârio.
“Who’s Jenet?” asked Nûd.
“A woman—a Duke’s daughter—I play shah-mat with,” said Dârio. His cheeks and forehead turned pink.
Fercha waved a hand toward Eynon and Merry.
“And those two are just good friends,” said Fercha.
Nûd raised his voice. “Eynon! Introduce me to your girlfriend.”
Eynon turned around, still managing to hold Merry’s hand. The tops of his ears were as pink as Dârio’s cheeks. Chee, dislodged from his spot, slid down Eynon’s leg and scurried over to Dârio. He climbed up to the young king’s shoulders and resumed rubbing his shaved head. Dârio thought better of trying to remove the raconette and tried to appreciate the scalp massage.
“Nûd, Dârio—this is Merry. Her father is the baron of the Upper Rhuthro.”
Merry gave a cursory bow to Dârio and turned to Nûd.
“Pleased to meet you, Nûd,” said Merry. “We saw each other at the quarry west of the Coombe this morning, but were never properly introduced.”
“Small things like attacks from Tamloch wizards and soldiers tend to get in the way,” said Nûd, giving Merry a nod and a grin.
“I have a great deal of respect for your patience,” Merry answered with a nod and a grin of her own. “I only had to put up with Damon for a few hours and I was ready to strangle him more than once. I understand you were you in Damon’s service?”
“Not exactly,” said Nûd. “It’s complicated.”
“Did someone mention my name?” asked Damon. He and Doethan had just stepped out of the inn and were standing in the courtyard a few paces away.
Chee looked over at Damon with his colorful robes and his mostly-bald head. He started to slide down Dârio’s torso to switch to Damon until the raconette saw the old wizard glaring at him and changed his destination to the padded saddle on Rocky’s back.
Nûd raised an eyebrow at Damon’s sparkling ensemble.
“Auditioning for court jester?” Nûd asked.
The old wizard ignored him.
“Hello, Damon,” said Eynon. “Or should I say Master Mage Ealdamon?”
Eynon gave a polite bow to the older wizard. He’d wondered why the Master Mage had never shown himself at the castle back in Melyncárreg and was still less than pleased with Nûd and Damon for their subterfuge. He vowed to be less trusting in the future. Yet another aspect of my education, he considered.
“This is my good friend Merry,” said Eynon. “Though I expect the two of you are already acquainted, since you gated out from the battle at the quarry together.”
“True enough,” said Damon. He smiled at the two young wizards indulgently. “You’re a well-matched pair—and you should have time to spend alone together tonight. It will be dark soon, and I expect we won’t see the Bifurlander’s fleet, the royal army, and the Roma legions meet until first light tomorrow.”
“The Bifurlanders won’t be attacking Dâron,” said Nûd. “Eynon and I bought them off with fifty pounds of gold.”
“You went back to Melyncárreg to collect more gold the way Eynon got some for his setting,” said Damon. It was definitely a statement, not a question.
“Correct,” Nûd confirmed. “King Bjarni and Queen Signý agreed not to attack us, though they did talk about testing their warriors’ valor against the legions of Occidens Province.”
Dârio spoke up, addressing the older wizards. “Could one of you get word to the legions and tell them to hang back and avoid engagement? I don’t want to see lives lost due to any unfortunate miscommunication.”
“I can see to that,” said Fercha. “And spoken like a responsible monarch. I’ll let Mafuta and Felix know. They’re with Quintillius and the legions.”
“Be sure to inform Laetícia,” said Damon.
“Wouldn’t it be more fun to keep her in the dark?” teased Fercha. “As if anyone could.”
“There is that,” said Damon. “She will probably get the message just seconds after you send it.”
“Efficient intelligence networks are something to be admired,” said Doethan. “And speaking of networks, Damon, shouldn’t you check in on your contacts in Riyas in case they’ve got more to report?”
“I was in Riyas!” said Merry. Her face lit up. “My big brother is there. He’s not dead.”
“I didn’t know you had a big brother,” said Eynon, “but I’m glad he’s not dead.”
Dârio caught Merry’s eye and put his finger to his lips. Then he squeezed his thumb and index finger together in front of his mouth.
“Sorry, Your Majesty,” said Merry. “I should know better than to discuss things in the open air that are best kept secret.”
“We’re all friends here,” said Dârio, “so no harm done, Merry. I just wanted to give you a friendly warning.”
“Like when a sailor bragging in a tavern in Bjarniston gave away the Bifurlanders’ surprise attack on Riyas back during the reign of the Old King’s grandfather, Dâroth XXII,” said Nûd.
“Loose lips sink ships!” said Merry, Eynon and Dârio simultaneously.
Everyone laughed. The phrase, adopted by Bifurland, Tamloch, Dâron and Occidens Province, had become a familiar saying across Orluin, thanks to a bard from Riyas making it part of the chorus of a popular ballad. The Bifurlanders, in particular, had taken it to heart. It took them more than a generation to rebuild their fleet.
Braith knows that song word for word and note for note, mused Eynon. He could picture his sister singing it while she milked.
“Let’s go inside and get some dinner,” said Damon. “Ice magic makes me hungry and I missed lunch.”
“Ice magic?” asked Eynon.
“At the Conclave meeting,” said Merry. Her eyes were wide as she remembered.
“Like when you froze the Abbenoth river?” Eynon asked.
“On a much smaller scale,” said Damon. “But I have to keep my strength up.”
“Sure you do,” said Nûd. “And if the cook at the inn can’t prepare a decent meal, we’ll send Eynon to the kitchen.”
“I’d be glad to assist, if that would be helpful,” said Eynon.
“He’s teasing you,” said Merry.
She cuddled in under Eynon’s arm and put her own around his waist, then began to guide him toward the inn’s main door. Eynon resisted.
“What about Rocky?” he said. “Do you think the innkeeper can spare a sheep for him?”
“He just had two goats on the Bifurlander’s flagship,” said Nûd. “How hungry can he be?”
“I don’t know,” said Eynon, “but I don’t like us having dinner without making sure Rocky is fed as well. If we were back in Melyncárreg, he could just grab a wisent. There are tens of thousands of them there.”
“I suggest you encourage Rocky to check out the river,” said Doethan. “It’s teaming with hundred-pound sturgeons.”
“I never thought about him eating fish,” said Eynon.
“You’re from the Coombe,” teased Merry. “You’ve just learned to eat fish.”
“There is that,” said Eynon with a smile.
“Maybe I can help,” said Doethan. He boarded his flying disk and floated up and across until he was a dozen feet above the swift-flowing waters of the Brenavon. Two minutes later, he returned with a huge, pointed-nosed fish inside a sphere of solidified sound. The fish was still writhing when Doethan dispelled the sphere and the fish dropped in front of Rocky’s snout.
Eynon whispered to Merry. “Is that a sturgeon?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Let’s see if he likes it.”
The wyvern sniffed the fish, then bent his long neck to grasp it in his teeth and toss the st
urgeon high in the air. In a well-practiced motion, Rocky opened his jaw wide and intercepted the fish as it descended, head first, down his throat.
“I think he likes fish,” said Merry.
“Evidently,” said Eynon.
Chee had been thrown off the saddle when Rocky moved. Eynon caught him with a bowl of solidified sound and floated the raconette gently down to Dârio’s shoulders.
“Thanks a lot,” said the young king. His initial tone suggested annoyance, but when Dârio pulled Chee off his back and held him cradled in front of him, rubbing his belly fur and saying, “Aren’t you the cutest thing,” Eynon knew it wasn’t really a problem.
Rocky found large chunks of gravel by the side of the road to the quarry and added several of them on top of the sturgeon. Then he curled up on the warm stones of the slate courtyard and closed his eyes.
Fercha held the inn door open for Damon.
“As suggested, I’ve got to reach out to my network,” the old wizard said. He moved his thumb and forefinger together and winked at Merry, but she was talking softly to Eynon and oblivious once again. He smiled at Fercha and entered the inn. Doethan followed him.
“I think I’ll listen in,” said Doethan, indicating Damon’s back with a shift of his chin. “Give my best to Mafuta and Felix.”
Dârio and Chee approached the door and Fercha gave a small bow.
“Your Majesty,” she said, looking at Chee. The raconette waved at her. “You too, Dârio.”
“If my great-grandmother didn’t like you so much…” said Dârio.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Fercha.
Nûd was next. He gave Fercha a restrained hug.
“It is good to see you,” he said quietly. “Will we have time to talk tonight? We need to talk.”
“I hope so,” she said. “I’ll tell you what you’ve been waiting to hear.”
“Who my father is?” said Nûd.
“Yes,” said Fercha. “That—and more.”
“More?” asked Nûd. His eyebrows rose.
“Later,” said Fercha. She gently pushed Nûd inside and started to close the door. She looked behind her and saw Eynon and Merry kissing near one of Rocky’s outstretched wings. Fercha smiled, took a step, and let the door shut behind her.
“Eynon,” said Merry a few minutes later. “Damon said something about the two of us having time to spend alone together tonight.”
“Uh huh,” said Eynon, still reveling in the joy of holding and kissing Merry.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d do me a favor,” said Merry.
“Anything,” said Eynon. He smiled at Merry with the innocent enthusiasm of Chee contemplating an Applegarth apple.
“Don’t eat too much tonight,” she said. “I’ve got plans for you and don’t want you falling asleep before they’re put into action.”
“Yes, dear lady,” said Eynon. His eyes grew brighter. “Those sound like very good plans indeed.”
“I wonder if Rocky would mind if we crawled in under his wing?” asked Merry.
“Probably not,” said Eynon. “He seems to be asleep. Is this one of your plans?”
“No,” said Merry. “This is something unplanned and spontaneous.”
“I like spontaneous,” said Eynon as he took off his padded jacket and opened it up on the cobblestones under Rocky’s wing.
“Stop talking and kiss me,” said Merry.
Chapter 38
Inside the Dormant Dragon
“Well, well,” said Dârio with a bit of a sneer as Eynon and Merry entered the common room of the Dormant Dragon. “So glad you could join us.”
“Your Majesty,” said Fercha. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Sorry,” said Dârio. “It’s hard to drop the role when I’m among friends.”
“Not to mention you’re so good at it,” said Nûd.
“Hey,” said Dârio.
“Nûd,” said Fercha. “Behave. It isn’t easy being king of Dâron.”
Nûd shook his head. “Sorry, Mother. That’s a job I’d never want.”
Fercha sighed and glanced at Damon. The old wizard was studiously looking down at the bowl on the trestle table in front of him. He was focused on a honey-and-raisin baked apple wrapped in a sweet pastry crust.
The common room of the inn was large—larger than needed by a town as small as Arthábben, thought Eynon, unless there was something about the place he wasn’t aware of. It held six long trestle tables with benches on either side. A sizable stone fireplace filled the left-hand wall, while a wide, well-worked tapestry depicting a sleeping blue dragon hung on the wall to the right, next to the stairs. That explains the name of the place, Eynon considered. I’d rather deal with a sleeping dragon than one wide awake and angry. A polished wooden bar with a pass-through to the kitchen behind it occupied the side of the room across from the entrance.
“Innkeeper,” said Dârio. “Two mugs of cider for my friends. They must be thirsty.”
A solid-looking middle-aged woman in pants, not skirts, nodded at Dârio and drew mugs of rich brown liquid from a barrel. She put them on a tray and collected a platter of bread and cheese from a slender woman about the same age on the other side of the pass-through. She must be the cook, thought Eynon. The cook touched the innkeeper’s hand after putting the platter on the tray and gave the innkeeper a loving smile. This must be a family business, Eynon realized. He knew what a happy couple looked like from observing the way his parents treated each other.
At the far end of the bar, Eynon saw two small unwashed faces under wild, straw-colored hair peek out to look at him and Merry, then disappear in a chorus of giggles. The cook and innkeeper’s children? Eynon wondered.
Merry turned to Eynon and raised an eyebrow. Dârio noticed her look and explained.
“A few minutes ago, the children raced in from the courtyard telling their parents about the strange noises the sleeping wyvern was making,” said the young king. “When one of their mothers asked what they meant, the children did an exceptional job of repeating what they’d heard.”
High-pitched imitations of sounds of love-making came from behind the bar.
“That’s enough of that nonsense,” said the innkeeper as she rounded the end of the bar where the children were hiding. She brought the mugs and platter out to Eynon and Merry, not bothering to hide a grin at Eynon’s evident embarrassment. Merry’s face was also red, but she was smiling and nudged Eynon in the ribs.
“We’ll have to add amusing the children to frightening the deer,” she said, remembering a time they’d stopped in a clearing to make love on their trip down the Rhuthro.
“Let’s not,” said Eynon. Then he laughed and sighed. “It was worth it, though.”
“Mmmm…” said Merry. “Yes it was. I’m looking forward to sharing a feather bed with you tonight.”
That comment prompted another chorus of giggles from the children and scattered laughter from the rest of the adults in the common room.
“Get on with you,” said the innkeeper to the children. “Go feed the chickens.”
“Yes, Mother,” said the two little ones simultaneously. Eynon could hear, but not see them leave through the kitchen, receiving smiles from their second mother as they went.
When the children were gone, the innkeeper apologized.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “Children are interested in everything.”
“And a wyvern sleeping in the courtyard…” said Eynon.
“Would be irresistible,” said Merry. “We should be the ones apologizing to your children.”
“It’s not something they haven’t heard already,” said the cook. She smiled at her wife by the bar.
“Your room is at the top of the stairs on the right,” said the innkeeper. “A bed might be more comfortable—and private—than the courtyard.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Eynon.
Merry smiled at the innkeeper, then winked.
“To change the subject,” said Damon, “You won’t
need to help out in the kitchen, Eynon. The food is excellent!” He waved to the cook and the slender woman behind the pass-through gave him a small bow to acknowledge the compliment.
“That’s good,” said Eynon, “because I’m hungry enough to eat…”
“Chicken pie,” said Nûd. “We saved slices for you and Merry.”
“It’s got eggs and mushrooms and sliced leeks and spring onions and doesn’t have a top crust,” said Dârio. “I want her to teach the cooks at the palace how to make it.”
“That’s high praise,” said Merry.
She sat at the trestle table across from Damon and pulled her eating knife from her belt. Eynon sat beside her, close enough so their knees touched. Doethan and Fercha were across from him. Nûd and Dârio were on opposite sides of the table beyond Fercha and Eynon. Chee was reclining in the middle of the table beyond Dârio, allowing the young king to feed him morsels of bread, cheese, and sliced apple like a Roma noble leaning back on a couch at a dinner party.
Eynon and Merry began to eat the nutty dark bread and firm white cheese on the platter while the rest of the table was working on dessert. A few minutes later, two steaming slices of chicken pie were placed in front of them by the helpful innkeeper. After a few bites, Merry was sure she wanted to get the recipe to take back to Applegarth and Eynon vowed to spend time in the kitchen, so he could learn how to make it himself.
Doethan caught Damon’s eye and saw the older wizard tilt his chin up and down a few degrees. Raising both his arms, Doethan cast a translucent sphere of solidified sound around the table, ensuring their privacy.
Eynon was surprised by Doethan’s spellcasting. What if I want dessert? he thought, as he cut off another morsel of chicken pie and brought it to his mouth.
Damon asked Eynon a question just as the young wizard began to chew.
“Are you sure the Bifurlanders won’t attack Dâron?” he asked.
While Eynon tried to swallow, Nûd replied.
“Fifty pounds of gold wasn’t enough to dissuade them from sacking Brendinas, but a demonstration of Eynon’s fire magic convinced them it wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“What did you do, Eynon?” asked Damon.
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