“Thank you, Eshshah,” I whispered.
She bobbed her head at me. Even from where I sat atop Sovann, I noted the sadness in her eyes. Poor dragon. She missed her rider.
“I’ll help find her, Eshshah. I promise.” I said silently.
My thoughts returned to my amnesia. This was the fourth day. The Healer said my memories should return within a few days.
What if they never did? What if my past never came back? Galtero had called me ‘Amáne of Teravinea.’ Who am I?
My throat closed. An involuntary sob shook my body. King Ansel leaned in to me. “Amáne, you’re safe now, you’ll be all right.”
Afraid my voice would crack and give me away, I merely nodded.
Weariness overcame me. I was so utterly tired. Pain screamed out from every inch of my body. I couldn’t wait to get back to the inn and tear off these scorched and bloodied clothes. I’d take a long hot soak and then sleep for a fortnight.
We hadn’t flown long when we landed on a beach on the southeast coast. It remained untouched by the destruction that took place to the north. I glanced over my shoulder at King Ansel, a puzzled look on my face.
“I’m going to put you on Eshshah and send you back to the inn. The riders and I have to go back and make a sweep of the castle. Thanks to you, Galtero has met with his ancestors, but we hope to capture one or two of his advisors.” He paused. “Or possibly the sorceress,” he added softly.
My arm throbbed at the memory of that meeting.
“I’ll see you at the inn by the evening meal,” he said.
I blinked as an unexpected disappointment overcame me.
Could it be I’m reluctant to separate from this young king? What kind of fool am I?
Recovering my senses, I tempered my anxiety with the thrill of riding by myself. “I’ve never ridden alone. Does Eshshah agree to that?”
“She’d love to have you in her saddle.”
“What about her rider? I wouldn’t want to anger her.”
His eyes darkened for only a heartbeat before he answered, “Her rider would want nothing more.”
He led me to the beautiful red dragon. “First, please let her tend to your injuries.”
I gasped. My eyes flew to the huge jaws hovering over me. Looking into her soft golden eyes, I exhaled and smiled. No danger or anything unfavorable reflected in them. At that moment I realized I’d come to fully trust the fiery red dragon. I tipped my head in acquiescence.
The king nodded at Eshshah. Having been around dragon riders these last few days, I’d learned to detect when they spoke to dragons in what they called thought transference.
Eshshah bent her great head down and pressed her nose to the soiled rags that wrapped my burnt arm. She exhaled a warm healing breath. I released a great sigh. King Ansel undid the wrap and Eshshah continued her treatment. The red dragon hummed a soothing sound as she healed my wound. Her heat coursed through my arm which burned uncomfortably hot before it turned to a tingling sensation and then to an itch. I couldn’t pull my eyes away as my blackened flesh mended. The wound shrank, replaced by new unmarred skin. In a short space of time, not even a scar remained to remind me of my battle with the sorceress. Immediately after, Eshshah breathed her healing warmth into my hand.
The corners of my mouth turned up as I tested my arm, making circles with my elbow. “Thank you, Eshshah. You’re amazing.”
She tipped her head.
King Ansel smiled at my wonderment and said, “And look, no scar.”
My eyebrows drew together. Is he teasing me — referring to my earlier statement I’d made about a scar?
He guided me to Eshshah’s side. She crouched down with one foreleg pulled close. The king helped me up onto her leg and then hopped on behind me.
“Hold the ring here, and put this leg on the footpeg.” His hand grazed my left leg. I inhaled at his touch.
“Good, now hoist yourself up into the seat. No, don’t bend your knee. Swing your leg over behind the saddle.”
I didn’t tell him that’s what I tried to do. My body wasn’t listening to me.
As I sat stiffly, he buckled the straps that came out from the front of the saddle seat and secured over my thighs. Biting my lip, I closed my eyes and held my breath when he reached across my lap to buckle the far side.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I could have done that one,” I stuttered.
He tugged on and tested the rest of Eshshah’s tack, then raised his face to mine. “Mora’ina will have a hot bath prepared for you when you arrive. You can soak for as long as you like.”
My eyes went wide. “How did you — ?”
He gave me a warm smile, then patted my knee and leaped down off of Eshshah’s leg.
“Just let Eshshah know when you’re ready to take flight.” He turned away and moved toward Sovann.
“Please be careful,” I whispered.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Neither the stifling weather of this tropical island of Orchila, nor the searing heat I’d experienced from the volcano could prevent me from insisting on steaming hot water for my soak. The heat of my bath water and the herbs Mora’ina added proved to be the catharsis I needed.
After a long while of reclining in the hot bath with eyes closed, I took in my first relaxed breath. Letting it out in a slow exhale, my attention turned to my healed arm. I ran my hand over the spot where my skin had been destroyed by the sorceress’ burning missiles. It remained smooth and unmarked. Even the memory of the excruciating pain it had caused, began to fade.
Just above where my injury had been, the tattoo of a magnificent dragon stared back at me. Once again, I examined it closely, knowing it held a clue to my past. My eyes squeezed shut, but the marking triggered no memories. I lifted my right foot out of the water and scrutinized the other indelible design etched into my ankle. A different dragon. Not nearly as beautiful, this one looked misshapen, a mutant dragon. The significance of my markings escaped me. I closed my eyes again, refusing to lose the tranquility I’d gained. Breathing in the relaxing aromas, I tried to clear my mind of all my unanswered questions.
I jolted when Mora’ina entered the bathing room. “Lady Amáne. Still breathe? Mora’ina worry. Long time in bath. Water too hot.”
I laughed at her concern. “I’m fine, Mora’ina. Don’t worry. I suppose it is time for me to get out, though. Thank you for keeping it hot for me.”
She held out a soft towel for me to wrap in.
“Is the king back, yet?” I asked.
“No. Soon.”
“Are they also searching for Eshshah’s rider? King Ansel didn’t mention her.”
Mora’ina lowered her eyes then gestured toward a simple blue gown made of a light gauzy material. It lay on the bed along with clean undergarments. “Mora’ina help Amáne.”
I let out a loud sigh. Another unanswered question.
“Thank you, Mora’ina. I don’t need help dressing.”
I scowled at the gown set out for me. “Must I wear this? Aren’t there any other tights and shirts in my size?”
“Color beautiful for Amáne’s eyes. Look like lady, not boy.”
I bit back a groan but still rolled my eyes.
She hovered nearby while I donned the gown.
“Amáne take small food now,” Mora’ina said as she moved a tray of fruit and cheese to a nearby table. “Big meal later.”
Nodding, I sat at the table and shoved a piece of papaya in my mouth. After a few more bites of cheese, my eyes drooped with exhaustion.
The native girl eyed me with concern. “Amáne not can stay wake until big meal. No worry. You rest now. Okay to sleep in dress. Mora’ina wake Amáne later.”
I hardly remembered her leading me to the large bed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I bolted upright and pulled my fist back to strike at my assailant. Mora’ina ducked. I checked my swing.
“Mora’ina! Forgive me. I ... I thought you were ... I dreamed I was ...”
I
shook my head, pushing away the terror that eclipsed my mind. My eyes darted around the room filled with the shadows of the setting sun.
The native girl rested her hand on my arm and smiled. “Amáne no worry. No problem. So sorry Amáne scare. Big meal wait in dining hall. Get up. You go. First, Mora’ina make hair pretty.”
I could have slept until the next day, but she was right in waking me. My stomach rumbled impatiently.
With experienced fingers, the Orchila woman quickly plaited and pinned up my hair. I held my tongue as she inspected my appearance and smoothed the creases from my gown. Satisfied with her efforts, she sent me on my way.
Trying to collect my nerves, I headed to the dining hall wondering how the king would receive me.
Stop with your foolish thoughts, Amáne.
Now that the quest had ended successfully, he would have no need for my services. I was merely a part of the operation for his escape. Possibly a nod of his head would be all I could hope to win. I knew I deserved no more.
Entering the dining hall, I surveyed the room. Filled with the dozen dragon riders of Teravinea and the small company of archers, the hall echoed with victorious voices. The mood was celebratory and sounded like double or triple their actual number. They sat at their tables, laughing and pouring drafts of ale. A few of them stood at my entrance, but seated themselves quickly after admonishing looks from their companions. Fighting down my confusion, I made my way between the tables.
The servers rushed around delivering steaming platters of roasted boar’s head to each table. Following up with small pots of mustard. They carved the meat and distributed it on individual plates. My stomach growled again when the mouth-watering aromas drifted toward me. Sweeping the room, I sought the king. My heart skipped several beats.
He’s not here.
Suppressing my disappointment, I found my usual spot. I nodded to Braonán across the table and slid in beside Avano.
“Amáne, pleased to see you’ve finally left your chambers to join us,” he greeted.
“I had no choice. I could smell the food all the way from my quarters.”
Avano smiled, put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a firm hug. “You did well. No. Better than well. Not only did you rescue the king, you rid us of Galtero. It was right that it be you who put an end to him, since you had such a past ...” His mouth clamped shut.
I leaned toward him, waiting for more. He shook his head and said, “Here, let me pour you a pint. A cask of DragonScale Ale arrived today. It’s a special brew from Dorsal.”
His eyebrows raised as if waiting for my reaction. Neither DragonScale Ale nor Dorsal sounded familiar. I offered a blank smile.
“I didn’t rescue the king, Avano. It was he who found me. I would say he did all the saving. You can tell your stories to someone who might actually believe them.”
Avano affected a hurt expression. I laughed.
In what I hoped sounded like a purely conversational tone, I said, “So, where is he? The king. Did he already eat? Will he be joining us in the dining hall? Oh, I suppose he wouldn’t be dining in the common hall, would he? How silly of me —” I stopped when I saw the amusement on Avano’s face and realized how I’d prattled on.
Fighting the heat rising in my cheeks, I turned, grabbed my tankard and took a deep pull.
“He should be joining us before long,” Avano’s lips twitched.
I swallowed the mouthful of ale and exhaled the breath I’d been holding.
A serving girl set a plate of meat and vegetables before me. I attacked it with fervor. As I savored the food, my attention was drawn to my ceramic plate. I studied the pattern of concentric circles pressed into the clay. It had been thrown on a potter’s wheel.
How do I know this?
I stared at my dish. The food grew faint, as if it no longer existed. Just the empty ceramic plate. It rippled and began to spin around and around. Long graceful fingers, wet with clay, pressed into the plate. My gaze rose from the forming piece. A woman sat at a potter’s wheel, her apron spattered with clay. She spoke with me, and we laughed as she worked.
Mother.
My eyes took in the small shed in which I stood. A workroom, with pottery in various stages of completion sitting on shelves around the room.
“I’m thirsty, Amáne. I have to get this order finished. The ship leaves in two weeks.”
I nodded at my mother and ran across the yard to our cottage. I stepped into the simple kitchen to fetch her a cup of water.
I’m not alone. My mother waits for me.
“Amáne?” Avano pulled me out of my reverie, his hand rested on mine.
Elated, I turned to him “I remember, Avano. I live in a small cottage. Just my mother and myself. She’s a potter. Do you know her?”
His mouth twitched.
“The riders are inviting you to join them in a toast.”
Taking ahold of his sleeve, I shook his arm. “Did you hear me, Avano? I said I remember. I think my memories are coming back. My mother is a potter. She makes ceramic wares and ships them throughout Teravinea.” I brightened at my success. Hope lifted me.
“She was a potter, Amáne,” he said softly.
“Was? Then what does she do now? I can’t recall that part.”
Avano’s eyebrows drew together. His hand squeezed mine. “Amáne, she rests with her ancestors.”
As if someone had punched me full in the stomach, I couldn’t breathe. My lower lip trembled. The noise in the room couldn’t drown out the panic that screamed in my head.
I’m an orphan. An orphan and a commoner. The lowest ...
My jaw tightened as I glared at him. “You’re wrong. I know you are.”
His lips pressed into a flat line. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Amáne.”
The din in the hall converged into words. The soldiers shouted, “A toast to Amáne.”
Attempting a smile, I lifted my tankard. I glanced around the room with glazed eyes. The rowdy group of the king’s men, both dragon riders and soldiers; the hall flowing with food and drink; the fine quarters I’d been allowed.
None of this would be for me once I return to Teravinea. I’ll be alone. Darkness swirled around me.
The riders cheers echoed as if in the distance.
Someone slipped in next to me on the bench. My stomach twisted.
He’s here and I missed his entrance.
I turned to my left. My eyes went wide. “Lia’ina. I’m happy to see you.”
She wrapped me in a warm hug. I returned it just as sincerely. Pulling back, I caught her sending a worried look over my shoulder to Avano. She gave him a quick nod back.
Taking my hands, she pressed them to her forehead. “Amáne look beautiful. Lia’ina leave for village, now. Gather tribe and go live in peace in Valley of Ancient Dragons. Please to visit one day. Lia’ina wish healing to Amáne.”
She placed her hand on my cheek. Her eyes glistened. Biting her lip, she nodded once, then rose and rushed out of the room before I could respond.
I watched in perplexed silence as she left.
Another who knew me before. How does a native from this remote island share a history with me?
My eyes stung. My throat hurt. Clenching my teeth, I turned on Avano. “What was that all about? Some secret looks letting her know ‘the poor girl’ is still missing her mind? Do you have to act like I’m not here? That I don’t understand what’s going on?” A searing flash of anger seized me.
Avano held his hands up as if in surrender. “Amáne,” he said.
As I looked daggers at him, the noisy room became silent. The occupants in the hall stood like ripples in a pond, and bent their arms in the dragon salute. Barely managing to quell my fury, I rose from the bench and joined the men in saluting King Ansel’s entry.
“As you were,” he said as he strode through the room.
My anger cooled. I slowly took my seat as my heart lodged in my throat. I’d only known the king through the trials of our escape
. Both of us disheveled, dirty and tense. Quite the opposite in his entrance, he radiated royalty. He wore a shirt of midnight blue with billowing sleeves under a golden dragonscale breastplate; black tights and high boots; his long dark hair pulled back in a queue with several leather thongs tied at intervals. A light circlet of gold rested on his head. I barely managed to close my gaping mouth.
The king scanned the room before his eyes rested on me. A slight smile formed on his lips. He headed in my direction.
Breathe, Amáne. Take a breath.
King Ansel’s smile sent my stomach on a wild ride. It shone a light on my dark mood, fading it into the background, at least for the moment. He folded his tall frame into the bench across the table from me and reached out his hand for mine. Pulling it toward his lips, he pressed a kiss on it. The room felt quite unbearably hot.
He didn’t let go of my hand. His eyes drew me in. “You look ravishing, Amáne.”
Stunned at his compliment, my mind flashed to a memory of someone saying the same thing to me. I’d stood on a staircase and looked down at the person. The face at whom I stared remained in shadow.
Another memory. But can I trust it?
Pulling myself back to the present, I said, “Thank you, Your Majesty. And you are looking ...” Magnificent, enticing, seductive. “... very nice, yourself.” I shifted uncomfortably, hoping whatever dragon magic he had didn’t include reading minds.
My anxiety increased as he, without further conversation, continued to hold my gaze. I gently pulled my hand back and cleared my throat, “So, your search was fruitful, Sir King?”
“Most of Galtero’s troops were wiped out. We found no one of importance.”
Nodding slowly, I swirled my knife around my plate. That meant they hadn’t encountered the sorceress.
I wanted to find out if they also searched for Eshshah’s rider, but I didn’t feel it was my place to raise the question at that moment. All the time I’d spent with King Ansel and I never asked him about her. No mention had been made of her whereabouts or if she’d been captured by Galtero — only that she was missing. It seemed odd that everyone had ceased talking about the lady. Because of me, they all tended to guard their speech.
Amáne of Teravinea - Black Castle (The Teravinea Series Book 4) Page 18