Quest: The Clans of Arcadia

by Arwen Chandler

  Fridtjof leaned back in his chair. “The throne should have been mine since the day of Anwell’s accident. A cripple had no place ruling in Selindale.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Anwell was a good man, and a good ruler.”

  Fridtjof nodded. “Yes, he was. Too good.” He sucked in his bottom lip, revealing his top teeth.

  Annielie shivered. “I hate you.”

  Fridtjof grabbed an apple and rubbed it on his pant leg. “That’s a shame because no one should start a marriage hating their husband.”

  Annielie’s eyes widened. “I’d never marry you.”

  Fridtjof spoke through a mouth full of apple. “I didn’t ask. You’ll marry me. You will follow our traditions, Annielie Maekel. It’s your duty.” He swallowed. “I will take you for my mate.”

  Tears sprung from her eyes. “How can you be so cruel?”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Annielie, I’m not trying to be cruel. I’m only trying to protect our clan. There are those who seek to dissolve the old ways and destroy our traditions.”

  Annielie shrugged. “So. Perhaps their ways are right.” She thought about the months that had passed, remembering the goddess’ kindness, and her vow to follow her.

  Fridtjof lifted a brow. “And what would your father think of this new way of thinking?”

  Annielie shrunk down. “He’s not here, anymore. It doesn’t matter. I follow the goddess, now.”

  Fridtjof sighed, “No. He’s not here, but I remember the day he betrothed you to Tiernan. You promised him that you would uphold our ways. How can you turn your back on that promise? You say you follow the goddess, but what has she done for you? Elanvanin has nurtured you at his breast since you were a child. Who do you think is responsible for you, a distant cousin, rising to be betrothed to the man who was to sit on the throne?”

  Annielie looked away and wiped her nose with a handkerchief. Her thoughts were muddled, as she fought against the teachings she’d known since youth and her newfound devotion to Lorna. “I meant what I said. I promised to stay true to Tiernan, and you killed him Fridtjof. You killed him!”

  He grabbed her hand from across the table. “Is that what you think, cousin?”

  She tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.

  “You think I would murder one of my top generals and family? I’m surprised.” He shook his head, releasing her hand. “I did not kill him, nor did my men. It was a soldier.” He paused.

  “I saw the man, but I didn’t recognize him.” Fridtjof’s eyes danced, and he drummed his fingers on the table. “It was he who cut Tiernan through with his sword. And, he alone is responsible for Tiernan’s death.”

  Annielie shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

  Fridtjof refilled her tea and handed her the cup. “Believe what you want, dear cousin.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “The man was tall and wore a dagger with a sapphire tipped hilt on his thigh.”

  Annielie’s hand shook as she lifted her teacup to her lips. She set the cup on the table, barely keeping the contents inside. “You’re wrong, cousin.”

  His eyes smiled. “Do you know this man, a man with this blade and blond hair? He was quite handsome if I remember correctly.”

  Annielie looked away.

  “You do, don’t you?” He frowned. “You love him.” Fridtjof’s eyes were wide. “I’m surprised at you, cousin. He is the enemy.”

  Guilt filled Annielie’s mind, and she glared at Fridtjof. “Ian did not kill Tiernan. He wouldn’t. They fought together.”

  Fridtjof shook his head. “My poor, darling Annielie. I thought you might say that, but what if I could prove it to you? Prove to you that this man killed your betrothed, betrayed you, and has lied to you.” He cocked his head to the side. “Would you still be so quick to leave our ways behind?”

  Annielie crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d like to see you try.”

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew an orange scrying stone. He rubbed his hand across the surface and handed it to Annielie. “Tell it to show you the battle, and it will.”

  Annielie trembled but took the stone. “Show me the battle.”

  The stone’s surface turned opaque then cleared like an early morning fog. She watched as Karn shouted to Ian. “Magnus and Fridtjof are in the rear, but his wolf is missing.”

  Ian shouted above the noise. “Eyes open men! Magnus’ wolf is on the hunt.”

  Karn sliced through a few more men and made his way to Tiernan who was drenched in blood. “Magnus doesn’t know who we are. He just wants us dead.”

  Another group of men rushed over the top of the hill, followed by Magnus’ wolf. Ian called to Karn, “We’ve got to regroup, or we’ll be slaughtered!”

  Karn grabbed his staff and shot another blast of energy from its end. He fell to his knees. “I can’t keep doing this. I’m not strong enough. Lorna isn’t here. I’m on my own. The flame is weak.” He wiped the blood from his eyes. He shot a glance in Tiernan’s direction.

  “Ian, get Tiernan.” Karn tried to send another burst of magic in his direction, but the flame flickered, then died.

  Ian ran to Tiernan’s side, cutting through two of the men who stood between them guarding Tiernan against the oncoming slaughter. As Ian swung his blade, one of Fridtjof’s men tried to block it, but it was too late. Surprise filled his face. Tiernan stood motionless, then fell to his knees.

  Ian leaned over his body. “You can’t have her. She’s mine.” He pulled Tiernan by the collar stopping in front of Karn. “We’ve got to go. Tiernan’s been injured. It’s bad.” Ian licked his lips, and a wicked smile formed at his mouth.

  Annielie dropped the stone to the floor and wept violently. Fridtjof rubbed her shoulder.

  “There, there cousin. It’s not your fault. These men are treacherous. They lie and plot to kill, in the same breath as they promise to save you, but I’ll protect you.” He pulled her up into his arms and caressed her long black hair. “That is if you’ll have me.”

  Her sobs died down.

  He gently rubbed her back. “Together we’ll raise this child in our ways, and he’ll be a true Maekel, just like your father would have wanted. He is of royal blood Annielie, and he should be in line for the throne, not living somewhere as an outcast from our clan.” He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “You know this.”

  She nodded. “I know. I just can’t believe it. Everything was a lie.”

  Fridtjof picked up the stone from the floor. “Sometimes the truth is hard to believe, dear one.”

  She searched his green eyes and saw no trace of deceit. “Let me think on it, Fridtjof. So much has changed, but I do want what’s best for my child.”

  Fridtjof nodded, “Take your time, but I’d like to have our handfasting before you give birth.”

  Annielie studied her hands. “Send Jadea around this afternoon, and I will have an answer for you.”

  Fridtjof smiled and kissed her forehead. “As you wish.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Magnus stood in the hall. “And, how did it go?”

  Fridtjof sucked in his lips, looking ever much the viper. “Perfectly. She believed it all.”

  Magnus laughed. “How easily the simple are persuaded.”

  Fridtjof clapped him on the back. “Let’s go. I’ve a ceremony to plan.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  LOST

  Lorna flew on the back of Dimera over the water. The cliffs of Govansur were long behind her, and the mainland was a speck in the distance. Dimera dipped her long tail skimming the water’s surface and lurched into the sky, spinning circles, and floating on the breeze.

  Behind them, Lucca flew astride the back of Prydari. The dragons rapidly navigated the crossing between the island and the mainland, and before long they were on the outskirts of Shanroe.

  Lorna pulled up on her reins and directed Dimera to a bare patch of land in the middle of a heavily forested area that had once been
a worship grove. Lucca followed behind her and Prydari landed quietly on the soft ground. He hopped off the dragon’s back and reached for Lorna’s hand, helping her down to the ground.

  Lorna placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the clearing. “Looks like we’re alone.”

  Lucca stretched. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Lorna sighed. “If Cantwell took her off the island, and all evidence points to that fact, they would have headed for the Shanroe harbor. I figure we should search there first.” She scratched Dimera’s head, and the skin around Dimera’s orange eyes crinkled as she smiled.

  Lorna laughed. “Darling, are you ready?”

  Dimera nodded. “As ready as one can be.” She sighed, and smoke blew from her nose.

  Lorna chuckled. “I promise it’s only for a short time.”

  Dimera nuzzled Lorna’s face. “I know, my lady, and I am prepared.”

  Lorna rubbed Prydari under his chin, “And you, Prydari, are you ready?”

  The dragon shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but do as you must, goddess. I am here to serve you, as always.” He bowed slightly.

  Lorna kissed his snout. “No longer than it has to be, I promise. You can go home soon.” Lorna flexed her right hand and balled the blue flame into her palm. She chanted slowly, “Ordimsay thuit a thasepeant thuit fayne.” Blue light filled the clearing and surrounded the dragons.

  The light exploded with the brightness of the sun, and Lucca shielded his eyes from the shimmering blinding white light. As fast as the light emerged, it collapsed into itself, disappearing.

  He opened his eyes. Where the dragons had once stood were two blue roan gypsy horses. Their blue-grey coats were in stark contrast to the long white hair that hung from their knees to their hooves. The horses had long black mains and tails. Lucca’s breath caught in his throat.

  “They’re beautiful, Lorna.” He stroked the side of Prydari’s face.

  “Yes, they are as horses, and as dragons.” She patted Dimera.

  “Can they understand us?”

  Prydari nodded and bumped Lucca’s elbow with his nose.

  Lucca rubbed the center of his head. “I guess you can then.” He stroked his mane. “May I have permission to mount your back?”

  Prydari kneeled, and Lucca threw his leg over the horse.

  Lorna chuckled. “Now Dimera and Prydari, outside of this glen, we will not ask to ride.”

  Dimera stomped her foot.

  Lorna raised her hand. “No protesting. It would look silly for us to ask our horses for permission to ride them in public.”

  Dimera whinnied, and Lorna’s eyes sparkled as she laughed. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to suffer the indignation for a little while. This is very important.”

  Dimera nodded, and Lorna climbed onto her back. She glanced over her shoulder at Lucca. “Shall we go?”

  Lucca motioned for her to lead the way, and she dug her heels into the horse’s flank. Dimera and Prydari raced forward, out of the clearing and onto the dirt road.

  The wharf smelled of fish and oysters, and the salt was so thick on the air it was almost palpable. It was a smell to which Lucca was unaccustomed, even though Govansur was an island country, the dragon’s keep was high in the mountains, and he much preferred the crisp mountain air to that that drifted through the harbor.

  The pair traveled down a dirt road alongside the docks and hitched their horses to a post. Lorna led the way down the pier toward the harbormaster. She stopped in front of the wooden table where he sat fumbling through records.

  He looked up from beneath an oversized tricorn hat. His face was craggy, and sun weathered. He wore his greying hair tied back by a green ribbon.

  Lorna flashed her most alluring smile, and the man straightened his back and sucked in his stomach, poking out his chest.

  Lucca looked away, barely managing to keep his laughter to himself.

  The harbormaster spat chewed mayflower leaf into a brass bowl at his feet and smiled up at her with yellow teeth. “How may I help you, fine lady?”

  She batted her lashes. “I come in search of a dragonship. It made berth here several weeks ago, and I was hoping you might remember it.”

  The man ran his tongue along his top teeth. “I might now. What you got to offer me?” He sat back in his chair.

  Lorna leaned forward, her breasts poking out of the top of her bodice. “I was hoping for a favor.”

  The man licked his lips and leaned forward. “Information comes for a price, even for one as beautiful as you, my dear.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “My price is two gold pieces.”

  Lorna motioned to Lucca. “Hand the man two gold pieces.”

  Lucca reached into the pouch tied at his waist and withdrew the gold. He tossed it on the table.

  The harbormaster lifted one of the coins to his mouth and bit it between his teeth. He pursed his lips. “Good stuff.” He slid it into his pocket. “What can I help you with, my dear?”

  Lorna rested her hands on the table in front of her and leaned into it. “About that dragonship?”

  He smiled a broad mostly toothless grin. “What would you like to know?”

  “I’m looking for two men and a woman.”

  The harbormaster arched his brow. “That describes everyone who comes through here.”

  Lucca cleared his throat and pulled the collar away from his neck. “One of the men might have had a collar on his neck, like the one I wear.”

  The harbormaster lifted a glass to his eye and examined the necklace.

  “The other is a very tall man, with big arms and no hair. They would have had a black haired women with them who is very heavy with child.”

  The man scratched his chin. “I believe I remember them.” He scrunched his face. “Yes. Yes, I do. The woman was very sick, and the large man carried her from the boat.”

  Lorna leaned against the table. “Did they mention where they were going?”

  He bit his lip. “Seems to me they mentioned something about a place they called, Tabharthore Ahn-bahs.

  Lucca shuddered. “The giver of death?”

  Lorna nodded. “You don’t perhaps know what direction they headed, do you?”

  The man pursed his lips. “Yes.” He grinned. “You don’t spend as many years as harbormaster as I have without knowing people’s business. I could tell by the supplies they carried. They were headed north.” He sat back in his chair. “Lots of fighting up that way. Not sure why anyone would want to go into Maekel lands intentionally.”

  Lorna’s eyes flashed, and she turned to Lucca. “This can’t be good.”

  Dimera, Prydari, Lorna, and Lucca traveled north through the sky, stopping at popular carriage stops and asking questions. Everyone they spoke to, indicated the company had moved north, but no one knew for sure exactly where Tabharthore Ahn-bahs was located; however, rumors floated through the countryside that Fridtjof had built a new castle somewhere along the Elohite and Maekel borderlands.

  The leftover ash of the previous night’s fire glowed a soft red inside the confines of the fire circle, and Lucca sat beside it warming his hands in what remained of its heat. He waited for Lorna to return. She’d left at first light to scan ahead. Her guise as a goshawk allowed her to move through the land without drawing attention to their search.

  Lucca leaned his back against Prydari, who snored softly. His thoughts were heavy. If rumors were true, Annielie was taken to Fridtjof. A knot sat in his stomach. The only way to prove she was his prisoner was to storm his stronghold. He squinted, surveying the sky in the distance and sighed. There were simply not prepared to mount a rescue, even if it were for Annielie.

  He studied the horizon, watching as a goshawk flew into sight and then landed at his feet. The bird shimmered and transformed back into Lorna.

  “Did you find anything, my lady?”

  Lorna handed him a ruby.

  Lucca examined it. The setting had melted, but it was obviously from a collar bel
onging to one of the Brethren of the Dragoni. Dread filled his being. “This was all you found?”

  “Yes.” She dropped to the ground next to him and reached for the wineskin that hung by his side. “However, there is a patch of burned land in the road up ahead, and a lingering scent of dragon.” She frowned. “T’argo was there. He left his mark on the trees. It’s not strong, but it’s there.”

  “And the egg? Was there any sign?” Heaviness filled Lucca’s heart.

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t tell for certain, but it’s safe to assume they have it.” Lorna pushed a stray hair behind her ear.

  “What do you think we do? I’ve been considering the options, and none that I can think of are good.” Lucca stood dusting off his riding pants. He reached down and helped Lorna to her feet.

  “For now, nothing. For all we know, T’argo killed them all and took the egg.”

  Lucca wrung his hands. “Lorna. I have failed so miserably.” He hung his head; tears streamed from his eyes. “You must replace me. I’m not worthy to be the elder.”

  She took him in her arms and held his head against her shoulder. “No, Lucca. You have not failed. Our enemy is powerful. More powerful than you know.” She paused, “I’ve meant to tell you, but with everything that’s happened, I hadn’t found a chance.”

  Lucca pulled away, wiping his face on his tunic. “Tell me what?”

  “Have you heard of the wolf Sconwin? It is Magnus’ animal.”

  He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes. What about it?”

  Lorna chewed on her bottom lip. “It is no animal. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but Elanvanin is trapped inside that wolf, and he is channeling his power into Magnus.”

  Fear crept up Lucca’s back. “Elanvanin is in Arcadia?”

  She rested her hand on his shoulder. “Yes, and it is of the utmost importance that Karn is prepared to face him.” She looked at her boot, then up at Lucca. “And, I must be prepared to face him.” She shivered.