Dragon Prince 01 - Dragon Prince

by Melanie Rawn

  “Have you even talked with her? Sweet Goddess, Rohan, do you know what she thinks or how she feels?”

  “Tobin,” Chay said softly, “leave be.”

  “She’s probably terrified of coming into the Hall for fear you’ll snub her again! She has her pride, Rohan—”

  “And so do I!” he reminded her pointedly. “I’m not going to be seen running after some fool of a woman who can’t make up her mind about me!” He set his wineglass aside and rose. “It’s late, and I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

  “This discussion is nowhere near finished!” his sister raged.

  “Let be,” Chay said, more firmly this time.

  She glared at them both. “Oh, get out, then! If you’re not going to tell me anything, then I refuse to let you stay here and enjoy it!”

  “But it’s more fun than I’ve had all summer,” he replied innocently, then backed off. “Chay! Grab her before she murders me!”

  “Grab her? I’ll help her!”

  Rohan beat a hasty retreat from their chambers, laughing. But he did not seek his bed. He ran quickly down the privy stairs to the gardens and strode the gravel paths to the pond. The fountain had not played since his father’s death; Milar could not bear to look out from her rooms onto the sparkling display she had created for her husband’s pleasure. Rohan bent, scooped up water to splash on his face, then sat on a bench to wait for Sioned.

  It had been quite a while since they had met like this. Walvis had brought back replies that the lady was too tired, too busy, or unable to get away in secret. A respectful apology was always appended to these refusals, but Rohan had had enough. That afternoon he had sent Walvis to her chamber during the worst of the heat, when anyone with any sense simply collapsed in private to endure somehow until evening. The message had been brief and specific: His Grace the Prince Rohan required Lady Sioned to attend him at midnight near the pond. Rohan had wondered if she’d dare refuse this time, too, but she had not. And he had been in a slow fever of impatience all day, longing to see her alone again.

  He looked around him at the signs of aging summer—grass that had put up a brave fight but was now dry and yellowing, ripening fruit on nearby trees. The Hatching Hunt neared as summer wore on, and Rohan had no need to play the indecisive prince on that score. He really had no idea what he would do when the day came. He had been on one such foray and been sickened by the slaughter of hatchling dragons as they emerged from caves into the sunlight. But it was expected that he attend and applaud the carnage—and do a great deal of the killing himself. His father always had, and his father before him.

  He turned his face up to the star-dappled sky, wondering how soon it would be before the she-dragons left their sentinel posts at Rivenrock. They were the reason no one could approach the caves and break through the walls to get at the eggs. But once the females were gone, it would be only a few days before the eggs hatched, and everyone considered killing dragons a wonderful sport. Rohan got to his feet and began to pace restlessly, helpless to find his way out of countenancing the slaughter for another year.

  “You require me to attend you?” a furious voice hissed in the darkness, and he jumped. Sioned appeared out of nowhere, quivering with anger. “I had not been informed that I was to be numbered among your servants, my lord prince!”

  Well-used to the rages of the other two women in his life, he was able to meet Sioned’s fury calmly, even with a certain amusement. “I asked politely and you never came. I thought an order would bring you out of hiding—if only to shout at me.”

  “How dare you command me as if you owned me! If you ever send words like that to me again, I’ll make sure you’re unable to be a husband to any woman, let alone me!”

  She looked as if she really meant it, something he had never encountered in his mother’s or sister’s explosions of temper. Evidently there was fury and fury, he mused. He would not make the mistake of judging Sioned by other women again. Still, his own pride demanded a certain kind of response, which he gave in sharp tones. “When I want to see you, my lady, you’ll come no matter what the method of the summons!”

  “Well, I don’t want to see you!”

  “Then why did you come?”

  Contrary to all his expectations of infuriated females, she neither shouted at him, slapped his face, nor stormed off. Instead she gave a little gasp and a muffled giggle. “You’ve got me there,” she admitted ruefully. “So much for a good rousing fight!”

  Rohan stared in total bewilderment that intensified as she shrugged and sighed.

  “I needed to see you, Rohan. I keep catching glimpses of you in the halls, and you’re always so busy and out of reach. I refused before because I didn’t want to add to what you’re already carrying, with the vassals here and planning for the Rialla and all.”

  He discovered then that the Fire could also be sweet as a hearthflame on a chill winter evening. “Sioned, you’re no burden to me. You’re the only promise I have for the future.” He slipped his arms loosely around her waist and she leaned comfortably against him. He smiled as he rubbed his cheek against her hair.

  “Thank you. I almost forgive you for what you said about my training. And speaking of that, I’ve been studying with Urival. There’s so much I need to know, and there’s not much time before we leave for Waes.”

  He was annoyed that his own sense of romance had not been communicated to her. He had no desire to discuss schemes and problems tonight. He wanted to try out all the phrases he’d practiced alone in bed.

  “I’ve been watching what goes on at Stronghold, too,” she went on. “I’m not sure I’m going to be any good at being a princess. Cami’s always told me I’m as disorganized as a winter storm. So I’ve had her give me some lessons, too. Except I’m afraid I’m pretty hopeless.”

  “Cami? Oh—the dark-faced girl with the gorgeous eyes.”

  She drew back and made a face at him. “The lesson I don’t need, thank you very much, is how to be jealous!”

  He grinned, realizing he’d found his path to romance—of a sort. “I don’t think you’ll need any training in that at all.”

  “If you look too long at any of those princesses, you’ll find out how much I know about it,” she warned playfully.

  “Sioned, even if I’d never met you, there’s nothing under the sun or moons, that would make me wed one of Roelstra’s daughters. I want to live to a decrepit old age, and the day I fathered a son on one of them would be the day I could start counting every breath. There wouldn’t be many.”

  Her eyes went wide. “But—oh, Goddess, I hadn’t thought of that! Rohan, they might attempt your life. You mustn’t go.”

  He laughed, delighted by her worry. “Nobody’s going to try to kill me, and I have to go. Besides, I’ll have my Sunrunner witch there to protect me.”

  “Don’t make fun of me!” she snapped. “Once they find out it’s me you’ve Chosen, neither of us will be safe.”

  “Don’t see shadows where there aren’t any. And just think of the fun we’ll have shocking them! The last night of the Rialla you’re going to enter the banquet on my arm, dripping in emeralds. The women will all want to murder you for being so beautiful, and the men will want to have me gelded, and . . .”

  She gave a snort of mingled laughter and irritation. “All right, then. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll wear something cut from here to there and back again, and try not to fall out of it. But had you seriously considered how many enemies you’ll make with this game? When those princesses do marry, they’ll remember the insult and try to turn their husbands against you.”

  “My position will be strong and the advantages many for those who cooperate with me, so the influence of their wives will count for nothing.”

  “And my influence as a wife?”

  He smiled. “Can’t you answer that question for yourself yet? Or won’t you believe me until you’re standing by my side in your shocking dress and emeralds?”

  “You have an answer for e
verything, don’t you? But you know what I meant. Am I going to be a part of your life outside your bedroom?” she asked bluntly.

  “I’m going to work you like a slave,” he promised, smiling. “Stronghold runs itself, so don’t bother with learning that kind of thing. What I’ll need you for is to help me with running a whole princedom. My father let things happen. I intend for us to make things happen.”

  Sioned nodded thoughtfully. “You’re serious about that, aren’t you? I’ve read through your books, you know. And all the little notations you put in the margins.” She laughed up at him suddenly. “And the rude comments about your tutors, as well!”

  “I was very young,” he began.

  “And shouldn’t have known such words at that tender age,” she interrupted. “I must say, though, some of it was very creative. . . .”

  “If you quote me an example, I’ll—”

  “Threats?”

  He tightened his embrace. “A prince never threatens. He just . . . promises.”

  “Ah.” She nodded sagely. “Promise away, my prince. I’m terrified.”

  Rohan gave up and laughed. “I can tell.” He paused, then, more gravely. “Will you come with me on the Hatching Hunt? Not openly, of course, but we can arrange some time alone. I want to show you Rivenrock.”

  “Where you killed your one and only and ever dragon. Yes, I’d like that.”

  “I think I’ll need you to be there,” he said slowly, and bent his head. “The slaughter is horrible, Sioned. I’ll spare you the sight of that, but I do want to show you the caves. I’ve always had an odd feeling about the dragons, as if they’re more important than anyone realizes. I can’t really explain it.”

  “I’ve seen them in flight. They used to travel over River Run north to the Veresch. But they were too high in the sky for me to hear them.”

  “This year we’ll listen to their songs together. I—” He broke off and glanced over her shoulder. “Someone’s coming.”

  They parted as a slight shape appeared in the shadows. Rohan sighed with relief as Walvis, every line of his expressive face showing his embarrassment, slunk forward and bowed deeply.

  “Your lady mother is asking for you, my lord,” the boy murmured. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, Walvis. Thank you for the warning. I’ll be up directly.”

  The squire nodded and melted away into the night. Sioned touched Rohan’s arm and said, “I’ll see you next at the Hatching Hunt.” She leaned up to kiss his lips lightly, then hurried away. Rohan left in the opposite direction, his body tingling and his thoughts centered around those hours he would spend alone with her in the Desert. So rapt was he in the pleasure of contemplation that he bumped right into his sister.

  “Well, now,” Tobin said very sweetly. “And here I thought you were so tired, and gone to bed.”

  He wondered wildly how much she had seen or heard. “No—I—Mother’s waiting for me, Tobin.” He started past her, but she put a hand on his arm.

  “No, she isn’t. That’s only what I told Walvis.”

  “You did what?”

  “I followed him,” she explained with a shrug. “Rohan, I told you I wanted some answers, and you’re going to give them to me. Why were you out here alone with Sioned?” As he scowled down at her, the fingers on his arm tightened and he was reminded that she was much stronger than her delicate looks indicated. “Tell me! She’s in love with you, don’t you realize that? What are you using her for?”

  “What makes you think she’s not using me?”

  “Don’t start lying to me. You’re not very good at it. If she’d wanted to seduce you and force you into marriage, she could have done that a long while ago. Andrade trains her faradh’im quite thoroughly!”

  The breath left his body in a rush. “What?” he whispered with no voice at all.

  Tobin let go of him, gasping softly. “You didn’t know?”

  “Tell me. Now.” He grabbed her arms, both of them, and held tight.

  Tobin stared up at him wide-eyed and apprehensive. “Before I married Chay she teased me about not knowing how to best please a man, and offered to lend me one of her faradh’im to give me the same sort of lessons they receive at Goddess Keep.”

  She explained haltingly that upon receipt of the first ring, Sunrunners spent a night with an unknown lover so that when they went to the grove the next day, they would no longer be children. “A girl can’t see what the Womantree must show her unless she is a woman,” Tobin finished. “Rohan, I thought you knew.”

  “So. Our dear aunt runs a whorehouse. How many men do the teaching, sister dear?” Had touched Sioned, tasted her mouth, held her supple body close and discovered her secrets—

  “Don’t be a fool! It’s only the once, only one night—”

  “Once? You expect me to believe that?”

  “You’re only angry because you’ve never—” She broke off and took a step back from him, frightened now.

  “How little you know about me, Tobin,” he said smoothly. There had been a girl—once, after the victory over the Merida, when he’d been incredibly drunk. She had been an archer from one of the smallest keeps along the coast and had not known who he was. He’d awakened the next day with a ravaging headache and the panicky realization that he had to leave before she found out his identity. The real trouble had been that he had very little clear memory of exactly what had happened between them. He was not entirely ignorant of sexual matters, but he lacked real knowledge, and it galled him.

  “Rohan—”

  “What else did Andrade forget to mention? Does she honestly believe I’ll take used goods to my bed?”

  “Rohan! How can you think of Sioned and say such a thing?”

  He ignored her and strode off, wondering how he could still breathe with dragon claws gripping his chest. Inexperienced, was he? He stifled the impulse to kick something and told himself savagely that there were methods of remedying that situation—and the sooner the better.

  Chapter Nine

  Rohan could not have chosen a worse time for it if he’d tried. With family, servants, and vassals watching every move he made, he could not have snuck a mouse into his chambers, let alone a girl. Having worked himself around to the point where he almost didn’t care if everyone lined up in the Hall to observe his choice of a bedmate, he ran into an unexpected difficulty. Not a single female in Stronghold—with one obvious exception—appealed to him.

  The pretty ones were too young, married, or betrothed, and therefore unapproachable. He was, after all, an honorable man. Besides, the picture of himself as infamous seducer was ludicrous. After rejecting the pretty ones, he tried to interest himself in the plain. At this juncture his pride rebelled. Why should a prince of his wealth and importance have to settle for some long-nosed, pillow-hipped girl who reeked of onions? Working up enthusiasm for the task would have been impossible. So back to the pretty ones his gaze went, and they lost any charms they might otherwise have held for him when he contrasted them with Sioned.

  Unsurprisingly in a man so young, he directed his anger at her. His masculine pride had taken a severe blow and his sense of humor was incapable of restoring his balance. Rohan cursed his position and his character for landing him in this mess. Production of royal bastards was never a good idea, and he had long ago decided he would never complicate the succession by siring any. Fastidious as well, he had never distributed his favors among the girls at Stronghold, much to their chagrin. To do so now, when everyone knew he would be choosing a wife at the Rialla, would be a revolution of character that would make him ridiculous. So, compelled to anticipate a marriage bed where his lack of practical experience would be only too evident to a woman of Sioned’s undoubted accomplishments, his temper grew increasingly foul.

  It did not improve on the late summer afternoon when, moodily staring down at a stack of parchments waiting for his immediate attention, he sensed a strangeness in the air and knew, without knowing how he knew, that the she-dragon
s had taken flight. He leaned out the window of his private study—Sioned and Urival were still in possession of the library, and he avoided her like poison—and saw the dark shapes rising in the sky. His heart soared with them, air filling his lungs as if he could call out to them and be heard. But in the next instant he remembered what their flight meant.

  The vassals were jubilant that night in the Hall. Rohan watched them from the high table, drinking too much wine and pushing his food around on his plate. This would be the last Hatching Hunt, he vowed. What good was being a prince if one couldn’t issue an arbitrary order now and then? He listened to his vassals betting on who would kill the most hatchling dragons, and felt physically ill. Couldn’t they understand that something as beautiful as a dragon should be allowed to fly free as the Goddess had obviously intended?

  The next day dawned cool and splendid. Rohan greeted it with a frown and reluctantly took his position at the head of the hunting party. He could feel stares like thin knives pricking into his back. His vassals were uneasy about him, and his obvious disapproval of their sport made them even more uncomfortable. That he had worked hard to gain their doubts was no comfort; that he had been trapped by tradition into this triennial slaughter infuriated him. The fierce blue of the sky and the dazzling sunlit sand was an insult to his black mood, and he further disgusted himself when he realized his feelings were being communicated to his horse. The stallion shifted restlessly between his thighs, and it took all Rohan’s skill to keep the horse calmed down.

  Jahni and Maarken had the honor of riding between their father and their prince at the head of the hunt. The two boys chattered constantly with the excitement of the grown-up game, bouncing in their saddles and driving their ponies to distraction. Jahni pestered Rohan about how many talons and teeth they might collect from the sand, and Maarken complained for the hundredth time that morning about his father’s edict prohibiting them from entering the canyon with the rest of the hunt. Chay bore his sons’ entreaties with the patience of long practice until they spoke just once too often.