by T. S. Ryder
Chapter Two – The Dragon
The shepherdess didn’t struggle as much as Asa had expected. From time to time, she made motions as though she was thinking about trying to break free, but for the most part, she leaned against him. If her muscles hadn’t been so tight, it would have almost been like taking a country drive through the twisting mountain roads.
When they got to Cendas, the city-state ruled by Quinn, his king, the rest of his men broke away, heading for their own homes. Asa slowed his bike as the shepherdess’s head twisted this way and that, taking in the sights. Since this was her new home, he tried to let her see it. The city was much bigger than the villagers thought. Cleaner, too. The captured humans they brought there always expressed that they had expected the city to be a collection of tents full of dirty people who rarely bathed.
He smiled as he pulled up to his manor. It had been in his family for generations and was built far before modern vinyl siding and architecture. The stonework was so tightly-fitted that even without mortar, you couldn’t fit a piece of paper between the rocks. A tall woman with braids hanging down to her knees waited on his front porch.
Asa pulled to a stop, lifted the shepherdess off his bike, and took back his helmet. He put a hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. There were no traces of tears on her face.
Once he got to the steps, he bowed towards the woman. “Thank you for coming to see me, Lady Shante.”
Shante inclined her head and glanced at the shepherdess. “Are you planning to keep her or ransom her back?”
For some reason, the thought of sending her away again made his fires flicker low. “I’ve been wanting a maid. I’ve taken the course for proper treatment of human captives, so I am within my rights to keep her.”
“You took a course?” the shepherdess looked at him with big blue-grey eyes. Her tightly curled hair gleamed like fire in the sun. It was one of the reasons why he had always noticed her during the raids of her village: her red hair. Gorgeous.
“We have strict laws about how captives are treated, girl. Now. What is your name?”
The shepherdess licked her lips. “Willow.”
Shante looked at her and frowned. “You look sturdy and strong. I will have one of my attendants bring over a manual to you, so you know what is expected of you as a captive servant and what rights you have. You will not be kept more than three years, at which time you are free to leave or stay on as a paid servant. If Asa here treats you unfairly, then you will tell me and he will be dealt with. Understood?”
Willow nodded, chewing on her lip. “So you – you’re the harem keeper?”
If he hadn’t been so shocked, Asa would have laughed. “Harem?”
“All the captured women are kept in a communal harem . . . aren’t they?”
“Certainly not.” Shante snorted. “I am the king’s mistress. I am giving him a child since he lost his mate.” Her hand rested on her slightly rounded belly. “It’s an honor I fought hard for. With this position, I have responsibilities, though, and one of them is to ensure that the UN’s Human Rights protocol is not being breached.”
Willow swallowed hard. She stepped away from Asa, a look coming over her face as though she just realized what was going on. “No. I can’t stay here. I can’t be kept here. I have to go.”
“You were taken in a raid and are therefore bound to your captor for three years,” Shante said stoically.
Willow shook her head. “I don’t want to sleep with him!”
“Then don’t. You are not obligated to give him access to your body. And if you change your mind, there is a stringent application process that he must go through.” Shante shook her head. “I will leave you to it, then. Asa, remember that she isn’t to be given any tasks—”
“For three days.” Asa bowed. “Thank you. I will take it from here.”
As Shante walked away, Willow stared at Asa. He met her eyes and she continued to stare for a moment before looking away. He put his hand on the small of her back again to guide her inside. She walked with confident steps and he couldn’t help but smile.
“You don’t seem to be very afraid of me.”
“I’m probably in shock.” Willow shrugged, appearing casual. “I’m sure that I will be afraid once this all sinks in. It’s like a dream. At least, I think it is. I never remember my dreams. Or if I do, I always know that I’m dreaming when I dream. My brother says I have no imagination.”
“I see.”
He led her to the top floor, where the rooms were built into the attic. It was retrofitted to be more comfortable than the first days it had been built, but the rooms weren’t his favorite up there. He glanced around, considering where to take her. The butler’s suite was the most spacious. Everything was coated in dust, though. It had been a long time since he’d been up there.
“You can have this room.” He opened the door to the butler’s suite. “I wasn’t expecting to take a human home with me this time, so things aren’t quite ready for you. I will have a new bed delivered and get some clothing made for you. The water in the bathroom should work.”
He strode through the room to the en suite bathroom. The toilet, a horrible yellow thing, was bone-dry. He remembered that he’d shut off the water years ago. He grimaced and turned back to Willow. She stared around in amazement.
“When did you decorate this place? The seventies?”
“Well . . . yeah.” Asa glanced at the floral wallpaper and shrugged. “I’ll have it redone. I haven’t had a servant in a few decades. But for now, I’ll get you a proper evening gown. We have to present our hauls to the king during a feast. I hope you like lobster.”
Willow jumped, her eyes growing wide. “I’ve never had it.”
“Well, then.” Asa grinned. “You’re in for a treat.”
***
Asa leaned back in his chair, pushing it up to its back two legs. All around, men and women were patting their stomachs in satisfaction and chatting amiably with one another. Next to him, Willow, in a stunning green off-the-shoulder gown that highlighted her red hair, gazed around with a familiar look on her face. Like she was trying to suck it all in through her eyes.
“So, how did you like your first dragon feast?”
Willow shrugged. “I was surprised that you use silverware. I thought it’d be like a medieval feast, eating with your hands and wiping your faces on your sleeves.”
“We’re dragons, not barbarians.”
The king, Quinn, sat at his own table at the front of the room. Shante sat beside him and an empty chair remained on his other side where his late queen had once sat. Even all these years later, it was strange to see it empty. If Quinn had been anybody else, he would have been permitted to marry again, but a king could only have one queen.
“Bring in the bard,” he called.
“Oh, good!” Asa brought his chair back on all fours. “You’re in for a treat, Willow. Our king’s bard is the most magical singer left on earth.”
Willow gave him a doubtful look as the doors at the back of the hall opened. A stooped, grey-haired man came in, carrying a Celtic harp on his back. He moved with shuffling steps. His bare arms had black tattoos running down them in a pattern you’d find in a dragonfly’s wings. The man bowed to Quinn and took his harp from his back.
“It is an honor to sing for you, my king,” he rasped.
Quinn smiled at him. “Sing us a tale of the old country.”
Willow leaned in close to Asa. “Old country?”
“Faerie,” Asa whispered back. “You see, Sherwood is a fairy.”
Willow’s jaw dropped. “Liar!”
Asa chuckled. “It’s the truth. He was traded to Quinn’s ancestors around the same time that the great pyramids were being built, I believe. He’s been tied to their line ever since. He’s said to have killed a thousand of the king’s children before being bound to his will by the fairy queen when she split the Faerie world from the mortal world.”
“But fairies aren’t real
. You’re having me on.”
“I’m not. Fairies are immortal.”
Willow brushed a hand through her red curls. “Like dragons.”
“No. Not like dragons. We grow old and die, just like humans. It just takes us a little while longer. Think about your lifespan compared to your dogs. You could easily see four, five generations of a collie in your lifetime. You’d seem immortal to them.”
Willow ducked her head at that, her lip trembling. Asa was surprised that such a statement would be the one to break down her walls. He opened his mouth, about to tell her that a human’s life could be extended greatly by the consumption of dragon flesh. Eat enough of it, and they could become a dragon themselves. That was how Shante had ended up joining Quinn for so long. He didn’t speak though. Humans were funny creatures, and that information was as likely to disgust her as anything else.
Instead, he sat back and focused on Sherwood as he started to sing, letting the magic of the bard’s voice wash over him.
Chapter Three – The Escape
The dragon’s marketplace was unlike anything Willow had seen. Rather than having the stores in stone buildings with windows with steel shutters ready to be bolted shut at any moment, these markets were open to the air. Brightly colored tents covered individual stalls holding the most incredible things: delicious-smelling roasted meats, freshly baked bread, glass jewelry.
Willow couldn’t get enough of it. She marveled that she could just wander around, taking her time. Asa had told her that she didn’t have to be back until dark. He had also told her to get whatever struck her fancy. All she had to do was give the vendor a slip of paper to charge him. When she had asked him how much she was allowed to spend, he told her there was no limit.
Either he’s rich or they work on some sort of barter system, she thought as she stopped at a clothing vendor. Knitted sweaters hung from hangers and she frowned. Was this wool from sheep that the dragons had stolen from her village?
A voice spoke beside her, making her jump. “This a lovely day, fair lady.”
Willow glanced over to see the singer from the feast, Sherwood, smiling at her. When Asa had told her he was a fairy she hadn’t believed it, but now, looking into his eyes, which shifted from green to blue to violet to amber as she gazed into them, she started to wonder if it was true.
“Hello,” she said uncertainly.
“You are Lord Asa’s newly acquired slave, hmm?” Sherwood touched her arm and stepped to one side.
She followed him without even thinking about it. “I don’t think I’m a slave,” she said uncertainly.
“He took you and you are now bound to obey him in all things. Where I come from, that would be slavery.” Sherwood made a humming noise. “It wasn’t until I was a slave myself that I saw it for what it was. I used to think my humans would be grateful for all the things I gave them. But freedom is a sweet taste that is as bitter as night.”
Willow opened her mouth then closed it, confused.
“I saw you the night of the feast.” Sherwood leaned in. “Such a beauty. Such a sad girl. And I thought, her sorrow is as beautiful as the frost on a windowpane. Your tears inspired my songs.”
That was creepy. Willow smiled uncertainly at him and stepped back a little. “Um . . . I should get back to . . . to shopping. I’m supposed to pick out food for supper.”
“Ah. Lord Asa is a lucky man, then, to have these slender fingers preparing his meals.” Sherwood caught her hand and she pulled it back.
“It was nice seeing you again,” she blurted and stepped around him. She walked quickly, hoping that he’d take the hint and stay back.
Apparently, though, that was too much to ask for. He followed her, humming under his breath. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Even though he didn’t look all that dangerous, with his large eyes and cupid-bow smile, there was something very off-putting about him. Maybe it was that otherworldly quality. Somehow, though, he was more frightening than Asa was.
Willow hurried through the market, picking out foods here and there to be sent to Asa’s manor. Sherwood was never far behind. Eventually, he came back up to her and roped a pearl necklace around her neck.
“Its beauty is nothing compared to yours, but your pretty throat deserved adornment.”
Willow took the pearls off and handed them back to him. “Please stop. I don’t know what is normal around here, but you are making me very uncomfortable.”
The fairy blinked at her, then smiled. “Ah, I see. Lord Asa told you that I killed a thousand kings’ sons. That I was given to the royal line in payment for my crimes?”
“I . . . that’s not the point.”
“Tsk, tsk, my lovely little flame. How can you believe the tales told by the dragon that plucked you mercilessly from your home to enslave you? Is he not the thief here? How many of your village’s children will die from cold and hunger because of their thieving ways? I am a slave and prisoner here, too, sweet fire.”
“That’s really beside the—”
Sherwood grasped her elbow. Willow wanted to pull away but didn’t. Part of her wondered why not, but the larger part whispered that she shouldn’t make a fuss. Sherwood belonged to the king. She was just some small shepherdess that a dragon took on a whim. Her word certainly would not be weighed as highly as his. And this place was very different from her village. Who was to say that the rules were even the same?
The fairy took her to a small booth that was currently unoccupied. There, he took both of her hands and stared deeply into her eyes. “Little flame, don’t you think I know what you’re thinking? We are both prisoners and slaves. I am bound to return to my king’s side to play as his pet. But you . . . you have wings to fly away. I know the secret passes through the city’s walls. I can free you from your cage.”
Willow’s heart jumped into her throat. Could he help her out of this place? Where would she go? Back home? No . . . She could go anywhere she wanted. Free. Free from her family’s expectations and limitations. Free from being Asa’s . . . She belonged to him, so that made her his slave, no matter what else he might give her.
Did she want to be a dragon’s property?
No.
“Show me how to get out.”
Sherwood smiled softly, then took her hand and pulled away. His hand was cold in hers, making her shiver, but she didn’t protest. He led her away from the market and into a large square. There, he entered a building and led her into the cellar. From here, he shifted aside a door in the floor and had her moving through a pitch-black corridor.
“You make a wise choice, pretty fire,” he murmured. “I have seen many women come to the city crying in their captor’s arms only to stay once their years of service are up because of the dragons in their bellies or arms. For their children, they stay.”
Willow shivered at the implications. “But they have laws and rules against that, don’t they?”
Sherwood hummed. “So they say.”
Her stomach churned as she considered it. Who was going to enforce that humans were treated well? The king’s mistress? If she had any real power, why wouldn’t she be the queen? That alone should have given her the warning that she needed not to believe them. After all, if the dragons had any respect for women, then their king would show it. Having a mistress certainly showed something – his disregard for the women in his life. The queen hadn’t even been at the feast. Ashamed to show her face, perhaps knowing her husband's utter contempt for her.
But Asa isn’t like that, she thought. Then she snorted. Oh, really? He stole me from my village and made me his slave. He’s used up any goodwill that he might have gotten.
“How much longer?” she asked. The air was frigid and she wasn’t certain how long they had been walking. She realized her breathing was coming in pants and suddenly thought that they could have been in here for hours. Her attention had completely lapsed. “Where are you—”
A door opened. Willow flinched as brilliant light stabbed into her eyes. It
blinded her, but Sherwood continued to pull her along. The smooth, cold stone that they had been walking along turned into the rough forest floor. Willow pressed her free hand to her eyes, wincing as the light continued to eat into them.
Sherwood took her to a small car and opened the door for her. “I can drive you to the city at the base of the mountain. The dragons there have strict laws for the proper care of humans and will not enslave you. But you will never be able to go home.”
Willow nodded. “I don’t want to, anyway.”
The fairy hummed. “That makes this far easier . . . ”
He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. She opened her mouth to tell him that they couldn’t waste any time but closed it again. He knew what he was doing, right? Her mind started to drift away as his lips moved to her wrist. Wait . . . She didn’t want him kissing her . . . She wanted to get away . . . But it did feel good . . .
A screech above them broke through her muddled thoughts. Sherwood glanced up and cursed. There was a great beating of wings and Willow sat, frozen, as something dropped from the sky. Beautiful bronze scales. She reached to brush her fingers against them.
Thick arms wrapped around her. Claws dug into her back. The pain drove away from the fog and she realized what was happening. Another dragon. She screamed as it shot a ball of fire towards Sherwood and leaped into the sky.
Chapter Four – The Fight
Asa banked the bike hard to the left, nearly laying it flat as he made the sharp turn. With a kick, he righted it again and veered towards the target. His men followed him. Michael wiped out and went flying. He cursed as he jumped back to his feet, smoking at the mouth. Asa held up a hand, pulling the group to a stop. This was the fourth time with their new maneuver that someone had wiped out.
“Come on, people,” he shouted as he leaped off his bike. “We have more to prove than anybody else in this city. We can’t have this sloppy work. Michael, I know you’re new, but you are better than this. I’m not taking any of you out on raids if this is how it’s going to be.”