The Dragon Slayer (Dragon Prince Series Book 1)

by Marie Daye

  She shrugged, turning and walking to the next merchant. “I plan to do exactly as I've already told him. I’ll clothe him, feed him, and keep my eye on him.”

  Gaalin rolled his eyes, “And? What else?”

  “Nothing else.”

  Gaalin glared at Eskil when he heard him chuckle. “You must be joking. For once in your life you have him at your complete mercy. You could make him suffer for all the pain he has caused mankind. You could wring him up in the stockades and beat him, and that still wouldn't be enough. You could kill him, it's the only fate he deserves. Why won't you do that?”

  She smiled gently at the young daughter of the merchant, she was learning the trade and Libelle was enjoying her enthusiastic way she counted a dozen potatoes. They were bound to be bruised, and her grimacing father nodded apologetically while saying they were free. She handed the young girl a few coins anyways, trading it for the spuds.

  “I won't do that, because it’s not what I was tasked to do. I was tasked to keep my eye on him, ensure he doesn't get into trouble, and to keep him safe.”

  Her retainer nearly screamed in frustration. “Keep him safe?”

  She sighed, “Gaalin, I am trying to enjoy the morning market and I am growing tired of this conversation. My intentions are clear, and my decision has been made. Eskil, him, the one standing behind you with a sadistic smile on his face: is here to stay. He will board in my home, where he will be safe from harm, and that includes you. Is that understood?”

  “No, it’s not understood!” He argued, once again pointing at Eskil who was standing uncomfortably while the same little girl tried to hand him a bruised potato.

  “My lady, please forgive me and understand why I must say this. It’s lunacy for you to keep the prince of dragons in your home. Its lunacy for you to treat him as if he were, a guest!”

  Merchants and other dwellers of Edinburgh had begun to pause their shopping to listen into their no longer private conversation. Some even stopping to stand near them to over hear the argument. Libelle was growing uncomfortable in the crowd, and even though she was not behind her helm she felt urged on. She stood in the town square dressed in commoner’s clothing, a long blue dyed wool dress; yet she looked anything but common, especially with two men following her around calling her ‘my lady.’

  “Enough Gaalin, we will discuss this later. Privately.”

  She could see his frustration, she understood it, and however it was not appreciated. He knew better than to argue with her like this, especially publically. With so many prying ears around them, she couldn't risk the common people to find out about Eskil: not until she had a chance to speak with the king of Edinburgh.

  Gaalin looked like he wanted to say more, and like a child he was trembling with his anger. For a moment, she thought he would continue his outburst; however instead his grumbled something unintelligible, grabbed Eskil’s cloak and practically dragged the man-beast down the street.

  Eskil cursed as he was yanked backwards by ‘gray-skin,’ his cloak pulled down over his eyes so it was impossible for him to know where the dark elf was dragging him off to. He was spun around a corner, then his back slammed up against a stone wall. Cursing again he lifted the edge of his hood up, glaring down at the tip of the same dagger that had pierced his arm several evenings before. Gaalin pushed him backwards with a menacing glare.

  Eskil chuckled, the noise entertained and annoyed. “Problem gray skin?”

  “You vile creature, I ought to kill you right now.”

  Eskil snorted, “It’s hard to be intimidated by someone so much… more minuscule than I.”

  “Bastard!”

  “Dinner.” He snickered.

  “Threaten me all you like, scum.” The dagger came closer, “If you ever hurt her, I will be the one to take your life!”

  Gray skin was showing too much possessiveness regarding Libelle, Eskil thought. Perhaps the drow felt more than loyalty towards her, and if that was the case, his aggression made sense. It was unacceptable for any man to show lewd interest in her though. She belonged to Eskil. He wanted to tear the dark elf apart then and there, but the blasted curse prevented it: a twinge of pain radiated with just the thought of it.

  He stared down at the dagger, he may not be able to kill the man; surely though, he could toy with him like how he had planned to toy with Libelle. He bent down over the dark elf, his lips curling in a twisted smile while his expression turned dark and threatening.

  He whispered into Gaalin’s ear. “The slayer’s life is mine.”

  The simple phrase set the sensitive man off, his snarled and tried slashing at Eskil with a curse. Eskil’s concern had been proven right, the manservant did feel more than loyalty to her. No one, not a retainer or companion would ever react like this if their master was threatened. Not any average ones at least. With this attack however, he predicted his move and evaded the blade. Grabbing the man’s shirt and lifting him off the ground.

  “Listen you pathetic mortal, if you threaten me one more time, the gods wouldn't be able to save you. I don't care if this curse destroys me in the process, I will burn your body to ash and leave your soul in Hel to wander aimlessly for eternity. I will remove your eyes, your tongue, your nose; you will wander with no sight, taste, or smell. All you will be able to do is hear, hear your own agonizing screams as your soul remains trapped and faces endless torture. There will be no end to your suffering.”

  Gaalin grabbed hold of Eskil’s wrist, the man-beast was able to lift him so effortlessly off the ground with a single hand. Panic rose in him, looking down at Eskil’s mortal face he felt nothing but terror. For behind his glowering expression, Gaalin swore he saw Eskil’s true horned and scaled face staring at him. He felt as if the fangs of the winged beast were opening up over him, the dark aura surrounding and suffocating him. He thought he was going to die, and the sensation was constricting around his soul.

  “You there! What are you doing?!”

  Eskil dropped the drow when an Edinburgh guard rounded the corner, seeing the two mid-scuffle he approached them to intervene. As he stomped up to them, sword drawn; Eskil yanked Gaalin’s arm and forced him to stand.

  “Nothing.” Eskil smirked. “My friend here just felt a bit woozy, I was just helping him up.”

  The guard looked between them both suspiciously.

  “Is that right?” He asked Gaalin.

  Gaalin panted, but looked back at Eskil who still radiated that intimidating aura with such an intense glare. He was compelled to agree.

  Sheepishly, he spoke to the guard. “Yes, I’ve just had a bit too much to drink. He was helping me up.”

  “Right, too much to drink.” Eskil forced a smile.

  The guard stared at them for a moment longer, then sighed and nodded. “Alright then, just be sure to sleep it off somewhere else.”

  Watching the guard leave, Eskil bent down to speak into Gaalin’s ear again speaking slowly, with all of his rage and possessiveness for Libelle in each word. “For the she-elf, I am merely behaving.” He walked away, pausing to turn back towards his new rival. “For now.”

  Libelle stood by her personal wagon, loading her purchases from the market into the back of it with the driver. They made idle conversation with the trading caravan while she waited for Gaalin and Eskil to return. She had success in the market, finding food that would last for several weeks as well as many ingredients. She had even found bottles of imported wine, purchasing an entire crate she contemplated where she would hide the delectable tasting alcohol.

  “Libelle!” A feminine voice cried out.

  She looked up, spinning around to find who called out to her.

  “Libelle! Libelle over here!”

  She turned towards the gates and saw all three of the young girls she had rescued; Vigdis, Ingrid and Brynhild. All three of them were waving at her frantically, once they realized they had her attention the trio ran down the stone path to her. The young girls ran straight into her chest, knocking the air f
rom her lungs, and almost her feet from the ground. She smiled, lightly stroking their hair back as they wailed in her arms.

  “Dragon slayer,” A familiar baritone voice snickered. “We leave you alone for a few hours and you make three young girls cry, you're so cruel.”

  Libelle and the girls turned around, Eskil and Gaalin stood behind them. Gaalin was standing beside him with an annoyed expression, holding a large pack filled with clothing. Looking Eskil up and down in his new attire, Libelle swallowed hard; trying to hide her flushing cheeks while he stared back at her with a knowing expression.

  Despite Gaalin’s argumentative self, he had chosen appropriate attire for the winged warrior. His tattered clothes had been replaced with fine black leather pants and a fitted cotton shirt, and a heavy leather jacket that reached his knees. The attire was fitting of a lord and a warrior, the leather pants sewn together with intricate detail. Fitted with a matching trio of belts that a sword would typically be sheathed on. The pants and belts had detailed metal working in them, the buckles and clasps were shiny and new.

  The tailor had fitted the cotton shirt for him, the material pulled taut over his chest and the deep cut of the material at the neck gifted her with sight of his lightly haired chest. He had either failed to clasp the buttons or purposely left they open for her. The black leather coat seemed heavy, yet warm and protective from the harsh winds that the land brought. With the same craftsmanship the leather had fine stitching and metal pieces decoratively placed.

  Eskil looked like a well-dressed and attractive lord from the dark lands. He smiled wider at her realizing she had looked him over, and it was then she realized that even his hair had been cut. No longer hidden beneath the cloak, his hair neatly framed his masculine face. The long tendrils no longer touching the middle of his shoulders, but still long enough to tease the collar of the jacket. His horns were no longer hidden.

  Gaalin stormed up to her and threw the sack into the wagon. “This bastard is going to cost us a fortune!”

  Surprised she looked at her retainer, “Why?”

  “He refused everything! Simple trousers, wool shirts, almost everything that was cost efficient! If it wasn't expensive, he wouldn’t wear it!” He waved his hand at Eskil. “You do not want to know how much that flashy coat was!”

  Eskil was smiling proudly, his fiendish side showing. “Only because it came from your coin purse, gray skin.”

  The young girls all laughed, rushing up to Eskil to fawn over him. He stared at them with surprise, then back at Libelle who hid her chuckle before talking with Gaalin who continued his tantrum.

  “My lord, you look so different than the last time we saw you!” Vigdis exclaimed.

  “Yes, you do! You are much more attractive now!” Ingrid, smiled while twirling her light blonde hair.

  Brynhild nodded in agreement, but still timid and hurt, she didn't speak to him.

  They hurriedly gave him compliments, his arrogance filling up like a balloon. “My lord!” Ingrid and Vigdis said at once. “You must join us for the celebration tonight!”

  Eskil began to speak when Libelle interrupted him. “What celebration?”

  “Oh we heard that there is a grand event in the square! It sounds like it will be so much fun, please join us!” Ingrid said happily.

  “Oh yes, please do!” Vigdis said, this time twirling her hair and swaying her hips at Eskil.

  He looked at Libelle again, this time as if he were suddenly frightened of the young girls. She snickered at him.

  “Perhaps we can attend.” She said with a light smile.

  “My lady!?” Gaalin said with surprised, “You never-”

  Her silent glare made him cease his words, he cleared his throat and nodded politely to the girls. “I suppose we shall see you there.”

  The girls squealed, jumping up and down before voicing their excitement to Eskil who still stood rigid like a statue.

  Gaalin turned towards Libelle, “My lady, who are those three?”

  She grimaced, “Ah yes… I forgot to tell you didn't me? Eh-hem.”

  She explained how Eskil and she were ambushed by bandits in their sleep, how she had rescued the girls; aided them in their travel to Edinburgh, and even allowed them to enter her property within the city. Gaalin felt faint, how could she have been so generous? To three children! He turned to them, interrupting their one sided conversation with Eskil.

  “Lassies’ how old are you?”

  Ingrid turned and offered him a dimpled smile, “Vigdis just turned nineteen, and Brynhild is nearing fifteen. I am sixteen, my name is Ingrid.”

  Gaalin turned back to Libelle to raise another argument, but she held up here finger to him. “Driver, please take our supplies back home. The farm boy there will help you unpack everything, and while you're there feel free to warm yourself by the fire, have a meal and feed your horse in the stables.”

  “Thank you miss!” The elderly man smiled at her and waved with his hat as he ushered his horse forward, the wagon lurched into motion.

  She looked at Gaalin, “You're welcome to join us or to return home. I plan to attend the festivities.”

  Gaalin watched as she walked away, her hips swaying slightly in her blue dress. She smiled at the girls, Brynhild and Vigdis taking one of her hands in theirs and walking back towards the city gates. Eskil silently followed, shaking off his surprise at the girls advances. Ingrid paused a moment, still smiling at Gaalin and twisting her fingers into her yellow wool dress.

  “Are you coming as well Lord Gaalin?” She asked.

  He shrugged, nodded, and then followed the blonde haired girl back towards the gates.

  Chapter Twenty

  The sky was dark yet filled with stars, the air was crisp but not freezing. Light from fire illuminated the city of Edinburgh, Nordic men and many other races bustling about the evening festivities. To his knowledge there was no point in the fair, but it had brought joy to many of the people. Men and women drank, gambled, danced, and sang. It was a fine night for the joyous festivities.

  Eskil sat on a stone bench in the city square, a large blazing fire had been built and many of the citizens danced around the heat of it. Gaalin sat beside him, drinking a large pitcher of ale as they both watched the woman they both desired; she was dancing with the young sisters, their arms linked as they skipped merrily about the fire. They took turns switching partners, walking and skipping in circles with their palms touching before switching partners and moving the opposite direction.

  They danced happily together to the fast tempo of the bards who banded together to play their instruments. All of the girls had bright smiles on their faces, truly enjoying themselves. When the song ended, those who were dancing paused to applaud the bards.

  Libelle casually walked over to the men, accepting a tall pint of strong ale from another attendee. She took a large gulp before sitting down between them, turning slightly and leaning up against Eskil who stared at her with wide eyes. Her head resting against his arm, her mug of ale against her lips while looking incredibly innocent.

  Gaalin was about to protest her actions, yet again before he could speak he was interrupted.

  “Lord Gaalin, Lord Gaalin! Dance with us!” Ingrid shouted happily with a large smile and blonde hair waving about her shoulders. She and her sisters grabbed onto his wrists and pulled him upwards, except he didn't budge from his spot.

  “Sorry lasses, I don't dance.” He said.

  The girls pleaded with him, still trying to pull him with them. He tried to excuse himself again when Libelle’s booted foot kicked his ribs. She raised her mug at him, pushing him up with her heel.

  “Go dance wit’em you old fart!” She grumbled.

  He shook his head, grabbing his own ale and taking another large swig of it before the girl’s drug him off to dance. Despite his hesitation, he looked entertained by the trio of girls bustling around him in fits of giggles.

  Libelle slid down against Eskil, her head resting on his lap. She smil
ed up at him, “Hic, hello.”

  He smiled gently back at her. “Hello.”

  She just stared at him smiling like an imbecile, and he chuckled. “You’re drunk aren't you?”

  “Hic, I don't know what yo-hic! You're talking about.”

  He laughed this time, retrieving her tipping pint from her hands and setting it on the opposite side of him. He had heard of man becoming drunk on the swill they called ale, yet never had he really been around them when they were so intoxicated that they became even more obnoxious, and even more lustful.

  Libelle’s eyes began to droop, her smile still there but becoming faint as she seemed to be drifting off. “Mmmm,” She purred, the sound soft and sensual. “-my lifemate.”

  Eskil’s expression went placid for a moment, collecting himself while she seemed to be unintentionally testing his patience as a man. Her dress clung to her skin, the low cut revealing the smooth skin of her breasts. She brushed her hand against his chest, toying with the collar of his jacket.

  He remained silent for a moment longer, before chuckling and eagerly lifting her onto his shoulder while standing up from the bench. She laughed in surprise, propping her chin up onto her palm and elbowing him in his spine. He began walking away from the main crowd and into the well-lit streets.

  “Where are you taking me, hmmm?” She asked.

  He chuckled again, “My little she-elf is quite inebriated and I believe a long walk may be in order.”

  She spoke mockingly. “A long hic- walk you say? Hic! What else do you plan to do with me?”

  Eskil smiled and shook his head, once away from the main crowd of people he set her down on her feet in the empty street. She was swaying on her feet, giggling as she continued through a fit of hiccups.

  He lifted her chin so she would look at him, “I can see in your mind what you'd like me to do too my little elf. However, there is not any place around where we could do those things, and have privacy.”