Tears of the Dragon

by Tears of the Dragon (NCP) (lit)

  She was sustained only by the fact that she was to meet with Samala that afternoon in her private office. If anyone knew where Damien was, he would almost certainly be that person. If he didn’t, then he would know who she could trust to help her.

  The morning was spent settling petty disputes between neighboring lords, most of which were too trivial in Khalia’s mind even to have made it through the petitioning process. By the time they broke for the mid day meal, she was beyond irritable. Instead of eating, she went to her apartments to rest, tempted to beg off the afternoon hearings.

  She might have, except that she had not liked the smug look on her uncle’s face when she’d left. She was certain he had something very unpleasant in store for her. She had no idea what that something might be, but she meant to find out.

  The afternoon began innocuously enough with a handful of the petitions that had not been heard earlier in the day. The moment the last of them had filed out, however, her uncle stood, bowed and offered her the same smug smile that he’d given her earlier.

  "Your highness. We have a matter of treason to consider."

  Khalia’s heart skipped a beat. She sat forward in her throne. "Who is the accuser and who is the accused?"

  Maurkis bowed again and signaled to one of the guards at the door near the back of the room. There was a brief scuffle and guards began to file into the room. At the center of the group, bound in heavy chains, was Damien.

  Khalia thought for several moments that she would faint, or be violently ill as she stared at Damien’s battered body.

  "I, Maurkis Gildwing, charge General Damien Bloodragon with treason against your majesty," her uncle announced, his tone almost gleeful.

  Khalia found for several moments that she couldn’t even think of anything to say. It took an effort to drag her eyes from Damien so that she could gather her wits. "What is it that you are claiming he has done?" she asked finally.

  Maurkis’ eyes gleamed. "It is not merely a claim, your majesty, but a fact, and one which has many witnesses. On the night of fourteenth Junus, General Damien Bloodragon was observed entering an empty suite which adjoins your own. When the guard rushed to investigate, he was discovered in a secret passage, fully armed. He has refused to admit his intentions, but the facts speak for themselves. He was armed. He was discovered trying to enter your apartments clandestinely. His intention was to murder you as you slept."

  The room erupted into an uproar. Perhaps half shouted that the accusations were absurd. The rest were just as vocal in condemning Damien and demanding his blood. Khalia stared at Damien as he lifted his head and caught her gaze. Ever so faintly, he shook his head.

  She knew he was telling her not to admit their affair. She just wasn’t certain why and it was that that held her for agonizing moments, unable to think of a response to the accusations. Finally, she signaled to the guards to bring order. "He was there because I summoned him," she said when the room had quieted.

  Maurkis gave her a look of feigned surprise. "You’d summoned him, your majesty? To come to your room clandestinely … in the middle of the night after you’d sent your ladies away?"

  Khalia’s eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t prevent the blush that rose to her cheeks. Not that she gave a damn what he thought, or any of the others for that matter, but she knew Damien would not appreciate her blackening his reputation and her own if there was an alternative.

  "Since I trusted no one else and knew at least some of my ‘ladies’ were there to spy on me, yes. Two attempts were made to poison me. One attempt had already been made on my life even before I arrived at the palace. Damien has been trying to discover the conspirators."

  Maurkis lifted his brows. "Damien? General Bloodragon, you mean."

  Khalia’s lips tightened. "Yes."

  Maurkis shook his head, pretending confusion. "I’m afraid I don’t understand, your majesty. You said the assassins had been sent by the Baklen, that General Damien had discovered that before he even brought you to Caracaren. As for the attempts to poison you here, in the palace … Why have I heard nothing about these attempts? Why were they not reported immediately?"

  Khalia cast around a little desperately, trying to think of anything that might help to support her accusations, fighting the temptation to accuse her uncle. She had no proof against him and at least half of the members seemed inclined to support him. She sensed that this would not be a good time to attempt to have him arrested and she suspected he knew very well that she was still too uncertain of her power to do anything. "Send for my maid, Guiteanna. I spoke to her about the attempt to poison me. It was she who told me of the previous attempt."

  She settled back when a guard had been sent to find the maid, trying to calm her jittery nerves, trying to jog her weary, frightened mind to think of what we might do. She could not think of much beyond the horror that she had been dining, dancing and celebrating while they’d been torturing Damien to confess to a crime he’d never intended. Why hadn’t she tried harder to discover what had happened? Why had no one told her? Her maids gossiped endlessly about everything. How was it possible that Damien had been arrested without anyone else in the palace, apparently, having heard of it?

  Because Maurkis had known of their meetings. He’d set a trap and they’d fallen right into it.

  And it was her fault. Damien had tried to warn her there was danger in their liaison, but she’d refused to accept it. She’d encouraged him to risk it, practically demanded it of him.

  Relief flooded her when Guiteanna was finally escorted into the room and shown to the witness box. Maurkis strode confidently toward the box. "Mistress Guiteanna, you have been brought her for questioning regarding General Damien Bloodragon, who is accused of attempting to slip into the princess … I beg pardon, Queen Khalia’s bedchamber to murder her in her sleep.

  "Queen Khalia has informed us that she had summoned General Bloodragon for the purpose of discussing an attempt to assassinate her by poisoning. What do you know of this?"

  Guiteanna glanced timidly around the room, met Khalia’s gaze briefly and then looked at Maurkis. "Nothing."

  Khalia stared at her in disbelief, too shocked at first to believe she’d heard the maid correctly.

  "Nothing? Queen Khalia said that it was you who told her that the attempt was the second of two attempts to poison her. Are you saying the Queen has fabricated the tale?"

  Guiteanna looked at Khalia and burst into tears. "I’m so sorry, your majesty. It was nothing like that at all. Damien Bloodragon is her lover."

  Maurkis sent Khalia a shocked look before returning his attention to his ‘witness’ once more. "High treason! You’re accusing General Bloodragon of high treason against the people of Atar?"

  This time the uproar was unanimously against Damien. There was not one face among them that didn’t reflect pure outrage and Khalia finally understood what Damien had warned her of. He’d told her it would not be considered suitable, that the people would not accept him. She knew the moment she looked at him that he’d known from the beginning that it would mean his death … and still he’d never denied her. And still she’d doubted that he cared for her.

  There is no tomorrow for us, Khalia.

  She felt like weeping. Instead, she swallowed her fear and anguish and signaled the guards to restore order once more. When the noise had subsided, she spoke again. "Damien Bloodragon is not a traitor. He is a loyal and honorable man. He distinguished himself in battle fighting for my grandfather. He has protected me from all harm. No man in this land has more right to rule beside me. I choose him as my consort."

  A deathly quiet settled over the room.

  Maurkis feigned outrage. "You can not! Your position as Queen of Atar demands that you marry only one who is your equal. The council will not allow it. The people will not allow it."

  Khalia felt like ripping the crown from her head and throwing it at him, but she retained just enough common sense to realize that her position was all the hope that Damien had. Ab
dicating would not remove the charges against him. It would only make her completely powerless to help him.

  She glanced at Damien again, hoping that he would tell her what she could do, what she might say. She saw nothing in his expression beyond acceptance and a warning to her not to interfere.

  She looked away. She didn’t care what the cost was. She couldn’t allow them to execute him. She couldn’t even bear to think of the horrendous death they reserved for traitors.

  "I have accepted him as my mate. You can not tell me that I can not and I will not allow you to execute the father of my child."

  "You are saying now that he has bred his child upon you?" Maurkis demanded.

  She didn’t know whether he had or not, but she thought the chance was good that he had. She nodded.

  A cold smile curled his lips. "The offspring of the traitor will be disposed of in its time."

  Someone, one of his supporters, she knew, demanded the traitor’s death. Within moments, they were all shouting it. Khalia looked around the room at the men who surrounded her. Slowly, it sank into her mind what Maurkis had said, and what he’d meant.

  They would torture Damien to death, slowly, and when her child was born, they expected her to give it up for execution, as well as the spawn of a traitor.

  A combination of fear, anguish, and pure unalloyed rage filled her at the decree. She was the Queen. They had made her queen, against her will, forced her to consider the needs of the people of Atar above her own needs and desires. Well, if they would have it that way, then they would have it entirely that way. She would not be dictated to by them! They would not tell her what was best for her as if she was no more than a child. They would not kill her mate or touch her child.

  Enraged, she rose slowly from the throne. As she did so, she felt a surge of heat and power race through her veins, felt it saturate muscle and tissue, spreading through her until she felt fully capable of rending the lot of them limb from limb. As she looked down upon the council members, she realized with a touch of surprise that she was shifting, growing taller and taller until she was many times the size she was accustomed to. Beneath her, she saw the faces shrink with distance as she grew taller still. As she grew, the cries of rage and demands for blood turned to gasps and cries of shock, surprise and finally terror. She ignored them all, stalking toward the man who’d demanded Damien’s death.

  "I am your Queen!" she shouted, turning to fix each member of her council with her gaze before moving to the next. "You defy my will at your peril! I have claimed Damien Bloodragon as my mate. One more word disputing my choice, one more suggestion that he be put to death because of my decision, one more threat to my child, and I will have you all executed for treason against your Queen!"

  "She has shifted!" someone whispered fearfully.

  "It can not be … no female in living memory has fully shifted," someone else whispered.

  Surprised, Khalia looked down at herself. Instead of the body she was accustomed to seeing, she saw scales, reptilian legs and arms, lethal claws. Arching her neck, she drew in a deep breath and expelled it. A wall of flame erupted from her throat.

  She looked down at the council members once more, a pleased smile curling her reptilian lips. Reaching down, she caught Maurkis with one hand and lifted him up until he was eye level with her. "There is a traitor among us, Maurkis Gildwing. YOU!"

  She turned to look at the guards gaping at her and dropped Maurkis among them. "Take him … and his little songbird," she added, gesturing toward Guiteanna. "Question him until he gives you the names of the others, and when you have them, house them with Maurkis in the prison."

  The members of the council stumbled from their chairs and dropped to their knees. "Your highness! Forgive your loyal subjects an error in judgment!"

  Khalia’s eyes narrowed. She studied them for several moments. "Gladly, so long as you don’t make another … for your next will be the death of you. Go, before I change my mind. I’ve no need of you now … any of you."

  When the last of them had stumbled from the room, she turned, studying Damien, wondering what he thought of this grotesque form. Slowly, a smile curled his lips. Thrusting the men away who held him now in a stunned, slackened grip, he strode toward her, shifting as he moved, breaking the chains that had bound him. When he reached her, he knelt. Taking her ‘hand’, he kissed it. You have never been more beautiful to my eyes.

  Skepticism warred with amusement. You are not just saying that because I have saved your precious hide?

  He laughed. Is it precious to you?

  Tears clouded her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Infinitely, Damien Bloodragon.

  As you are to me, sheashona. I have loved you from the moment I first saw you. And every day since that time I have loved you more.

  Khalia blinked her tears back and started laughing. "I’m as big as a house! You are blind, my love, if you can liken me to a sheashona now."

  He shook his head. "I see."

  The End

  Following is an UNEDITED excerpt from the second book in Angelique’s dragon series, DRAGONS OF THE DAWN.

  Dragons of the Dawn

  by

  Angelique Anjou

  Chapter One

  There was a full moon tonight, but that only meant deeper shadows for their quarry to hide … or lay in wait for them. MP Cpl. Josephine Benate pressed the button on her radio. "You see him, Murphy?"

  Static greeted her when she released the button. "GI piece of shit issue," she muttered, wondering if her partner had gotten out of range or if the buildings were interfering. She pressed it again. "Murphy? What’s your position?"

  "…end of the field. He’s gone over the wire. Heading for the trees."

  "Where’s our backup?" Again, the response was a burst of static. "Murphy. Where’s our backup?"

  "I’m on it."

  She could tell from his voice that he was running. She cursed under her breath. "Hold your position, private."

  He didn’t respond. "I say again, hold your position for back up."

  She scanned the perimeter and the field beyond it and caught a glimpse of movement just outside the fence. She knew it had to be Murphy and wondered if he’d called for backup, as he’d been ordered to, before he ditched their jeep. She had a bad feeling he hadn’t. She ought to have known better than to leave it to him. He was too gung ho for his own good. "Stupid rookie," she ground out and began jogging in his direction, scanning the area between her partner and the edge of the woods.

  A shadow detached itself from the ground and bolted for the woods. He wasn’t twenty feet in front of Murphy. Josie ran faster, hoping to avert disaster. She almost ran right past the break in the fence. Skidding to a stop, she doubled back and pushed through the cut wire. The cut edges scraped across the sleeve of her uniform and snagged, jerking her to a halt. She grabbed the wire with her other hand and gave it a yank to free herself. As she did, she heard a meaty thud behind her. "Damn it!" she growled, pulling against the snag so hard she staggered when she finally came loose.

  Whipping her head around, she scanned the clearing and zeroed in on the two men struggling near the edge of the woods. She launched herself into a full out run. She was within a couple of yards of the struggling pair when the report of a pistol almost defended her.

  She didn’t know if Murphy had fired, if the suspect had managed to get Murphy’s pistol, or if both men had a gun, but she didn’t have time to retreat. Without taking time to consider it, she launched herself into the air, diving for them.

  As if watching the event in slow motion, she saw Murphy crumpling toward the ground. She saw their suspect’s mouth working in a silent yell and his head turning in her direction, watched as he brought his gun arm up.

  Her impact with the suspect stunned both of them. Two seconds after their midair collision, they hit the ground. Josie rolled and came back up on her feet, scrabbling to pull her own weapon from its holster. The suspect, she saw, was on his feet, as well, and no longer
armed. He glanced quickly around for his weapon and dove at her instead. He hit her so hard the weapon she’d just pulled from her holster went flying off into the darkness, pinning her to the ground, he shoved his forearm under her chin, pressing against her throat.

  A roaring filled her ears. She clawed uselessly at his arm for a moment and then went for his eyes. He jerked his head back beyond her reach, but the movement also relieved the pressure on her neck. She grabbed the arm he was trying to choke her with, pushing up on it and bucked, trying to throw him off of her. Grinning, he grabbed both of her wrists and shoved her hands into the dirt, scooting up far enough he could put a knee of each hand.

  She jerked the first hand from beneath his knee while he was trying to secure the other with his opposite knee. This time, instead of going for his eyes, she went for his crotch, grabbing a handful of cods and squeezing them for all she was worth. He let out a high pitched scream and grabbed for her hand with both of his, trying to pry her fingers loose. Balling her freehand into a fist, she drove it upwards with all her strength into his nose. Blood gushed down his face. She managed to buck him off of her while he was distracted and scrambled to her feet, but she’d barely gained her feet when he launched himself at her again.

  She leapt to one side, but not far enough or fast enough. He managed to catch hold of the leg of her trousers and jerk her off balance. She drew her knee up and caught him on the side of the head with her boot, stunning him long enough to scramble for to her feet.

  He was already on his knees by the time she’d regained her feet and whirled to face him again. Something caught her eye as she turned to face her assailant, but it didn’t register in her mind immediately. She was too intent on immobilizing the suspect before he managed to find one of the pistols. Even as she drew back and kicked the man in the ribs with the toe of her steel toed boot, it clicked.