“I may have wanted that at first, but I’ve changed my mind. And I never wanted anyone to hurt you. I only wanted Thorndale Castle to be under my command, but I swear I am not aligned with these men.”
Drake shook his head, the disappointment in his eyes obvious. “And you say I only do things for my own benefit. Now look who’s guilty of her own accusations. You are my wife, Brynn. You could have ruled along with me, but you wanted it all.”
“Please, Drake. You must listen to me.”
“Did Calais take your virginity or not?” he snapped. “And don’t even think of lying to me.”
She paused for a moment, looking at Calais with an eerie smile on his face, then over to Drake with anger in his eyes. She knew now she never should have kept the secret from her husband. She never wanted it to end like this.
“He did,” she answered bravely, feeling a weight lifted from her shoulders and yet feeling like she’d just made a big mistake.
Drake nodded his head. “Then he’ll die for it.” The anger in Drake was ugly. Brynn had never seen him so mad. He fought off the men one by one, taking them down at his feet, trying to get to Calais. The sky rolled with thunder, and the clouds opened up, the rain pelting down against them.
“Nay!” Brynn screamed, watching Drake take on a small army of men by himself.
Then the doors to the great hall opened and Asad ran out, sword drawn. A large group of Drake’s loyal men followed.
“Attack!” shouted Asad, “Save Lord Dunsbard.”
Brynn watched in horror as man after man fell in a puddle of blood. This shouldn’t be happening. This outrage was uncalled for. So many needless deaths - just like the deaths of her own parents. And this time it was all her fault.
Calais somehow managed to slip away unnoticed into the shadows while the battle continued. Brynn backed up against the trunk of the tree in order to be out of the way of danger.
“The dragon comes.”
Brynn jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She turned to find the addlepated old man watching the action from behind the tree. He nodded his white head and then squinted upward in the rain, searching for something in the sky.
“What did you say?” Brynn asked.
“The dragon comes,” he repeated. “The dragon needs to be fed, and will find what he needs here. ’Tis going to consume him, it will, unless you help.”
“What are you talking about, old man? There is no dragon here. And who is the dragon going to consume unless I help?”
“Look.” He pointed to the sky, and to her horror, he was right. Dracus swept through the sky just above the castle, searching for its next meal. Its claws were clenched tightly beneath its scaled stomach, while its wings of fiery orange and red stretched like sails across the stormy sky. Smoke streamed from its nostrils and fire beaded its small eyes. It glided smoothly as if it owned the sky. Its spiked tail whipped back and forth as it turned circles in the air. Then it spotted them and dived right for the garden.
“Drake! The dragon!” she called, hoping he’d hear her through the clashing of swords and cries of battle.
Drake looked over his shoulder and then quickly up to the sky. The anger he held earlier was masked with a new sort of vengeance that shone in his dark eyes.
“Come for me, you bastard!” he shouted, waving his dragon-headed sword toward the beast. Dracus took up the invitation and swooped down toward him.
The attackers ran in fear, and even Drake’s loyal knights backed up to give the dragon room. Only Asad stood next to his lord, ready to take on the dragon with him.
“Get away!” Drake shouted to Asad, but the squire would not leave his lord stranded.
“I’ll fight to protect you, my lord. I’ll fight to the death if need be.”
“You’ll die at my hand if you don’t do as ordered. This is my fight, Asad, not yours.”
When Asad started to protest, Drake took his fist, clenched around the hilt of his sword, and smashed it into the man’s face. Asad fell to the ground, unconscious.
“Nay!” screamed Brynn, horrified at everything that was happening so fast. She had to do something to stop this madness.
“He can’t kill the dragon with a sword,” said the old man. “He’ll only kill himself in the process.”
The old man’s words brought to mind the words of Drake’s father. Hadn’t he also warned Brynn that the dragon couldn’t be killed with a weapon? She had to stop Drake before he was killed by the beast.
She lunged forward just as Dracus swooped down to attack. She jumped in front of Drake and blocked the dragon’s fiery breath, stopping it from scorching Drake. She and Drake both fell to the ground in the process. The dragon headed back up to the sky, getting ready for another attack.
“What are you doing?” Drake screamed. He helped her to her feet quickly. “You’re going to get killed out here. Now get inside the keep, quickly.”
“I will not!” she answered. “You are the one that’ll be consumed by the dragon. Your father told me that the dragon couldn’t be stopped with a sword. Or any weapon for that matter.”
“My father is the dragon, Brynn. Why would he tell you that? It makes no sense. He’s trying to kill me, but I’ll kill him first. Now get out of my way or I’ll be forced to do to you what I did to Asad.”
The dragon dove in for another attack. Drake pushed Brynn out of the way, and managed to slash the dragon’s wing with his sword. The beast screeched and reared back in the air, stunned. Drake grabbed a shield from one of the men he’d killed and held it up in front of him just in time to save him from the dragon’s flame.
Drake’s anger grew, and so did the dragon’s. It furled its hurt wing, then with a roar, grew in size. Another set of wings brown in color, sprouted out from the dragon’s back only aiding it in flying that much faster.
Brynn could see what was happening. Every time Drake managed to slash the dragon, it not only grew in size, but sprouted an extra wing or talon or grew another set of teeth. He was feeding the dragon’s anger with his own anger. He would never kill it this way. His father and the old man were right.
“You’d better help him,” warned the old man. “The dragon’s anger will kill him with one more blow.”
“But how?” she asked. “How can I stop a dragon from attacking? I don’t even have a weapon.”
“That’s the answer,” said the man. He chuckled and disappeared into the night.
She didn’t know what the man meant, and didn’t have time to ponder the thought. The dragon swooped in again, this time hooking its razor sharp talon on Drake’s tunic, lifting him high in the air.
“Nay!” she shouted. “Let him go!”
The dragon lifted into the sky with Drake in tow. His sword fell from his hand to the ground, landing at Brynn’s feet with a clank. He struggled at first, but then seemed to go limp - eyes closed and head tilted to the side. She watched in helpless horror as did the rest of Drake’s men. Dracus lifted him higher and higher above the castle walls.
“I need to think, I need to think.” Brynn repeated frantically. She sat down on the bench, body shaking. She didn’t have any weapons. Even if she did, the old man said they wouldn’t help. She didn’t have any special powers to stop this dragon. All she knew how to do was dreamwalk. She had to try something, anything. She had to dreamwalk and try to save Drake.
She lay down on the bench and closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. Immediately, she was able to leave her body. Her etheric form followed Dracus through the sky. He circled above the battlements, Drake dangling limply from its taloned claw.
“Drake,” she called, willing him to wake up from his own slumber. She hoped somehow his physical body would know she was there, but it wasn’t his physical voice she heard answer.
“Brynn, what’s happening?” He was out of his body as well. His etheric body floated next to hers, watching Dracus circling above the battlements with his physical form dangling from its claw, unconscious.
�
��Dracus is going to consume you. I’m trying to stop him, but I don’t know how.”
“Brynn, you don’t need to risk your life to save me. I’m not worth it. Let the dragon have me. You’ll be better off without me.”
“Nay! Don’t say that. I won’t do that Drake, I can’t.”
“Why not?” They were standing on the battlements now, Dracus and Drake’s limp body directly above their heads.
“I love you, Drake,” she blurted out her feelings without a second thought.
“You do?” he asked, bewildered.
“I do,” she answered, falling into his arms. Their dreamwalking bodies held each other closely, and she felt the love vibrating from Drake into herself. It was a strong feeling. A good feeling. A feeling that they belonged together. It was the right thing.
Then, with a horrible screech from Dracus, the dragon dropped Drake’s body at their feet. It wasn’t a gentle drop onto the battlements, but the distance to the ground was thankfully close. The etheric Drake winced as his physical body fell with a thump. He jolted back into his physical form with a sharp jerk. Drake’s eyes opened briefly, making contact with her dreamwalking form for a mere second.
“Brynn?” he asked, dazed and confused. Then his eyes closed and he lie still upon the cold stone.
“Drake!” she called, feeling herself being whisked back into her own physical form, though she longed to stay with him.
“Drake?” she called again, and sat upright, this time in her physical body. It had stopped raining. The sky was no longer cloudy. The moon shone down upon Asad with a bluish glow. The squire rubbed his cheek, swollen and bruised and jumped to his feet. The rest of Drake’s men were running about in a frenzy, apprehending whichever of Drake’s attackers they could lay their hands on.
“Lady Brynn!” Asad rushed over to her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but Drake’s not.” She grabbed her skirts and rushed to the battlements with Asad at her heels.
“Where are you going? Where is Drake?”
“He’s atop the battlements,” she relayed, climbing the steps quickly. “Dracus dropped him.”
They made it to the battlements and Brynn could see Drake’s crumpled form lying right where she knew she’d find him.
“God’s teeth!” Exclaimed Asad, slipping his sword back into his sheath. “He’s dead!”
THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Brynn sat at the bedside, holding Drake’s hand. Asad had called for help, and the men had moved Drake into their bedchamber. He wasn’t dead as Asad thought, but very close to it. Brynn had helped Asad remove Drake’s clothing and dress his wounds the best she could. But Drake was bleeding heavily, and his body was bruised badly. His breathing was shallow, and his skin pale. If she hadn’t seen his chest barely moving up and down with breath, she would have thought he truly was dead.
Tears filled her eyes as she clasped his hand tightly. She couldn’t lose Drake like this. He had to live. He just had to.
A knock on the door brought Asad from the window to open it quickly.
“Is it Juturna?” asked Brynn anxiously. She had called for the old seer immediately when they’d found Drake’s body crumpled and bleeding, but for some reason they were having a hard time locating her.
“Nay,” answered Asad, opening the door wider so she could see the priest who stood there with a Bible in his hand.
“I’ve come to give him last rites, my lady.”
“We’ve no need for your services. If you want to do something, go to the chapel and pray.”
“My lady,” said Asad softly. “It may be a comfort to let the priest - ”
“Nay!” she shouted. “Juturna will be here soon and see to his healing. Now get out!”
Asad spoke softly to the priest and escorted him out into the hall. The next time the door opened, it was Juturna who stood there, a bag in her hand.
“Thank the heavens!” exclaimed Brynn, running to her side. “Drake needs you. Please hurry.” She pulled the old woman over to his side, pulling back the blood-stained coverlet to show her his wounds. Drake’s naked body was bruised in black and purple welts. The dragon’s claws had slashed his chest badly, the wounds still gaping and bleeding through the wrappings she’d applied. Juturna removed one of the cloths and gasped.
She shook her head and looked at Brynn sadly. “I don’t know if I can save him.”
“Don’t talk that way. Of course you can. You are a healer. Now fix his wounds the way you did mine.”
“Your wounds were not so deep, my lady. Drake’s run deeper than any I’ve ever seen.”
“You can heal him, can’t you?” She the heard the tremble of her own voice.
“I can only try. He needs to be stitched.” Juturna pulled a needle and thread from her bag, and Brynn felt ill at the thought. Still, she knew it must be done in order to save her husband’s life.
“I may be able to heal his broken body,” said the healer, “but I can do nothing to heal his broken soul.”
“You’re starting to sound like that addlepated old man,” Brynn accused, watching the old woman quickly thread the needle and cleanse Drake’s wounds.
“You saw the old man?” she asked. “Where was he?”
“In the garden. Just before the dragon attacked.”
Juturna stitched quickly, pulling Drake’s wounds closed. “What did he say?” she asked without looking up.
Brynn thought about the old man’s words. They didn’t make any sense. Nothing made sense any more.
“I’m not sure,” she said, wincing with each stab of the needle into Drake’s flesh. “He was speaking in riddles of sort.”
Juturna worked on the wounds, asking Brynn to hand her herbs and creams. When she threaded the needle a second time, Brynn felt her body convulse. The blood was bad enough. Brynn couldn’t stay and watch the needle piercing the man’s skin any longer. She closed her eyes, feeling dizzy, knowing she wanted to be by Drake’s side, but not sure she wasn’t going to swoon in the process.
“Why don’t you go out for some air?” said Juturna.
Brynn thanked the woman for her suggestion and did just that.
* * *
Brynn walked in the garden, now void of dead bodies, but the stones on the pathway were still covered with blood. How much killing would it take to bring man to his senses? Drake’s warrior heart was heated with anger and hate. The vengeance for his father had poisoned him. He would do whatever it took to try to right the wrong he’d seen as a child. But didn’t he understand that in the process he was only creating wrongs of his own?
“My Lady?” Asad stepped from the shadows. “I feel ’tis my duty to protect you now that Lord Dunsbard is unable.”
“You should call him Lord Thorndale now, Asad, as should all of his original men from Dunsbard.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod of his head. “I will inform the others. So then you have accepted him as the lord of your father’s castle?”
“I have,” she admitted. “And I’ve accepted the fact I am his wife as well. But now I’m afraid I’m too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“He looks awful,” said Brynn, staring at nothing in particular. “His wounds are deep and I am not sure he will live. The blood is so much.”
“Aye, my lady. I know. I just came from his side, having reentered the chamber right after you left.”
“How is he faring?” she asked, not feeling brave enough to really want to know the answer.
“Juturna has sewed him up. His wounds are all closed, my lady. The bleeding has stopped. The old healer is with him as we speak. She said she’ll stay the night to watch over him.”
“Has he opened his eyes yet?”
“Nay.”
Brynn nodded to acknowledge him, but felt her own tears choking her, and she was unable to talk. The silence between them was thick and heavy.
“I tried to protect him from Dracus, my lady
.”
She took a deep breath and released it. She reached out and touched Asad’s arm to let him know she wasn’t angry with him. The squire was almost as upset as Brynn about the whole situation. He didn’t need guilt eating at his mind.
“You did well, Asad. Drake didn’t want any help. He tried to protect you, as well as me. He was willing to die to stop Dracus.”
“Aye, my lady. That he was.”
“How is your cheek?” She looked at the spot where Drake had hit him. Asad’s handsome bronzed face, his perfect features, his foreign eyes all seemed different now. His face was lopsided. His lip had been sewn together by Juturna, and blood caked his hair. He had a gash above one bushy dark eyebrow that would no doubt leave a nasty scar.
“I’ll live,” he answered. “’Tis more than I can say for Lord Dunsbard.”
She looked up quickly.
“Lord Thorndale, I mean.”
“He’ll be fine,” she answered with strength and determination.
“You can’t be sure, my lady.”
“I can,” she told him. “He can’t die. I won’t let him. He needs to know I didn’t betray him, and lead the rebellion against him.”
“I’m sure he knows, Lady Brynn.”
“If you had seen his face when Calais and the others attacked, you wouldn’t be so sure of your words.”
“If ’tis any consolation to you, we’ve caught the men who’ve turned against him. Drake’s loyal knights locked the traitors into cells in the dungeon.”
“Calais, too?” she asked, arms folded across her breasts, eyes staring at the torches burning along the battlements of Thorndale Castle where Dracus had deposited Drake.
“Nay, my lady. Somehow he managed to escape in the midst of the commotion.”
“I’m not surprised. He was most likely the first to run.”
“We’ve looked everywhere for him, but he’s not inside the castle walls. Did you want us to search the woods my lady?”
“Nay,” she answered. “There has been enough bloodshed this evening. Let him go for now. This was supposed to be a celebration feast, but it ended up a death call instead.” Brynn watched Asad rub his sore jaw and she knew the man was probably more exhausted than herself. “Go get some rest, Asad.”
Tall, Dark, and Medieval Page 43