Resurrection Of The Fallen

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “Drystan!” his parents shouted at the same time.

  “I doubt they ever wanted me. Yet I am still saddened by their death,” Conley whispered.

  “They gave you life; of course you would mourn them,” King Aeron replied.

  “I do not wish to mourn them,” Conley blurted out as he rose to his feet and stalked out of the room.

  “My apologies, I must go to Conley,” Drystan said and tore from the room. He knew Conley was likely to head to their bedchamber and that is exactly where he found him a few minutes later.

  “Con?”

  Conley was standing in the room frowning into the banked fire in the hearth. “Drys, you need not attend to me.”

  “Do not be absurd. You are my mate and you’ve just learned your parents are dead. Where else would I be but at your side?” Drystan pulled an unresisting Conley into his arms.

  Drystan felt Conley’s hand smooth over his hair. “How can I be sad and angry at the same time?” Conley asked.

  “Life is not so cut and dried that we must only feel one emotion at once.”

  “I was wrong to leave our parents alone downstairs. They have been the ones to show me love and caring. I do not wish to ever give them cause to doubt the reasons why.”

  “You can offer an apology when we return below.”

  “Why did she not return my letters? Why was I not deserving of their attention?”

  “I can supply no answers to your queries,” Drystan replied softly.

  “No one can. With them gone, I shall never know why I never knew love until I met you.”

  “Is there nothing I can say to ease your pain? It fair tears my heart to hear such torment in your voice.”

  “Drys, you are always my salve. You need not worry you’re not doing enough to aid me. Your presence is enough to lessen my pain. I would wager it will take some time for me to handle my grief. Grief I did not think I would have when given the news of their deaths.”

  “It is as our father said. Without them, you would not exist. For that, I will be eternally grateful to them. For that, I will mourn with you.”

  “When I heard the words from our mother, it was almost as if I was a child again. I was vulnerable and in need of succor—only the people who led me through boyhood were no longer there to care for me. I was full of fear and wishing I could run away.”

  “It would seem the loss of one’s parents can cut them at the knees no matter the age of the child.”

  Conley pulled back enough to kiss him. “You have summed up my feelings correctly.”

  “I can offer you the comfort of a tall, attractive king whenever you need him.”

  With a small smile, Conley said, “I daresay your mother will not leave your father here to attend to me whenever I have need of him.”

  “How you wound me. I meant to offer my humble services.”

  “There is little humbleness in you, but I will avail myself of your services as I work through all that today’s news has brought.”

  “I am your servant.”

  Conley kissed him again and then snickered, “You would make a poor servant.”

  “As would you, my love.”

  Drystan lifted his hand to run his thumb over Conley’s cheek. “Most likely that similarity is what led Fate to tie us together.”

  “Whatever the reason, I am glad for it.”

  “As am I.”

  Chapter 16

  1319 AD, Draconis Court of Besant

  “Your Highnesses, a messenger has arrived bearing news from Castle Draconis. He has asked to speak to you without delay,” Duke Geron announced as he entered the study.

  “Thank you, Geron, show him in,” Drystan replied.

  A tall man wearing the black and gold livery of the Emperor’s court bowed his head as he stood in the doorway. “Greetings, Your Highnesses. I have been sent by His Majesty’s first, Imperial Duke Bernal.”

  “You may give your message,” Conley said from his perch on the arm of Drystan’s chair.

  “I am afraid I have grave tidings. Your Highnesses, His Royal Majesty Emperor Erhard Draconis has left the mortal plane.”

  Drystan looked at Conley and saw his golden eyes were widened. “Your words are indeed grim.”

  “Yes, Your Highness. Imperial Duke Bernal sent messengers to every corner of the dragon world so we could bear this most solemn message. I am told his passing was peaceful. His pyre was set the next day, and the castle is in deep mourning.”

  “Of course, I am glad to hear he did not suffer. Has any news reached your ears of who the new Emperor may be?” Conley asked.

  “To the best of my knowledge, Your Highness, Fate has yet to select that honor.”

  “If you would follow Duke Geron to the Great Hall, we can offer you food and drink.”

  “Your Highnesses, I am grateful for your hospitality, but might I beg of a space to lay my head this night?”

  “Duke Geron, would you show our friend here to a chamber upstairs? Have a bath sent up as well,” Conley said and Geron led the dragon out.

  “I cannot say I am shocked to hear of His Majesty’s passing,” Drystan commented.

  “Even for a dragon, his lifespan was a long one.”

  “Let us hope Fate fills his castle soon. Courts such as this one have need of a strong ruler to handle what we cannot.”

  “The dragon world has grown into such disarray with no sense of connection binding us together.”

  “Aye, and we have many unmated dragons who have no place to go to find their other half. I can think of little that is more tragic than being asked to live one’s life without their mate,” Drystan remarked.

  “Nor can I.”

  * * *

  Drystan followed Conley into the Great Hall for the evening meal and knew all their court was discussing the death of the Emperor. The castle had been buzzing with the news for the whole of the day. Dropping into his large chair, Drystan gave Conley a smile and then took a tankard of ale from a serving boy. When the platters of food began to be set out, he selected the choicest bits for the trencher he shared with his mate. He saw the Draconis messenger enter the room and waved him over to their table.

  “Your room is adequate?” he asked the man.

  “Yes, Your Highness. It is very kind of you to give me a room of my own and to share your dining table.”

  “We are honored to have the Emperor’s messenger at our humble castle.”

  “Your Highness, I hope you don’t think me too bold but never have I seen a dragon such as you,” he remarked to Conley. “Your scales appear to be of the richest gold.”

  “A most comely dragon, is he not?” Drystan asked.

  Conley glared.

  “His dragon is likely very pleasing to the eye,” the messenger stated diplomatically.

  “Indeed, he is,” Drystan said. Turning the conversation away from his pretty man, Drystan spoke with the messenger about inconsequential things as they ate. As was his habit, when he was finished, Conley got up out of his chair and perched his fine rear on Drystan’s armrest. But this night before Drystan could wrap his arm around Conley, his mate teetered off his resting spot and fell to the floor.

  “Con, are you hurt?” Drystan asked as he pushed back the offending piece of furniture and stood to assist his mate. Conley had his eyes squeezed tightly shut and appeared to be in significant pain which made little sense as he had not tumbled from that great of a distance. As he bent over to grab Conley, a searing pain began to burn in Drystan’s eyes. It sucked him back to over two hundred years before when he had become a king—only, this time it was more intense. He jammed his lids down and yelled out in fury. An echo of torment burned in his forearm.

  “Drystan!” Conley all but screeched his name but Drystan did not answer. He could tell from the sounds below him Conley was gaining to his feet. Seconds later, there was a tug on his tunic. “Do you not hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  “Open your eyes so I may see for myse
lf what Fate has done this time.”

  “No.”

  “Drystan.”

  Rage flooded Drystan and he opened his eyes. Gazing into Conley’s golden orbs he noted the silver circle which had made him a king was now gone. In its place was one of gold that was barely discernable against the scales of his mate’s brilliant dragon.

  “Drys. My arm. It said Draconis and the rings in your eyes are gold.”

  “Too bad, Conley. I wish to be an emperor even less than I wished to be a king,” he roared.

  “Fate has made its choice,” Conley whispered.

  “Your eyes have always been gold. Can we not simply cover my eyes with a bit of cloth?”

  Conley’s eyes were pleading when he said, “Calm yourself. All will be well.”

  “My life has forever been at the mercy of Fate.”

  “It has been a good life,” Conley argued.

  “Only because it has you in it.”

  Conley laid his head against his chest and of their own accord, Drystan’s arms wound around his mate. “I will always be by your side. Together we can do this,” Conley whispered.

  “It’s not as if we have any choice,” Drystan grumbled.

  Chuckling, Conley announced, “If you begin to pout, I am writing to Mother.”

  “Messenger, you will need to return to Castle Draconis and alert them to our imminent arrival.”

  The messenger was grinning. “Of course, Your Majesty, it would be my honor.”

  “Duke Geron, ready a messenger to leave for Castle Bera. I would have a letter delivered to our parents.”

  Geron wore a smile as well. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Have drink brought out; it seems this night has turned into a celebration. Fate has chosen us to serve you all as Emperors. May Fate find you a worthy king to replace us,” Conley called out and soon tankards were overflowing.

  Drystan was doing his best to join in the revelry, but he could not shake the sense of foreboding that had taken over him when he’d realized he was no longer a king of a tiny court like Court Besant. Conley was, of course, attuned to his mood and when they journeyed up to their bedchamber after the dancing ended, he pinned him with his golden gaze. “What ails you?”

  “I wish I knew, Con. It may be wild imagining, but I feel something sinister could befall us.”

  “Love, your nerves are simply overset. Who could have expected we would wake up this morning and by nightfall be the most powerful dragons in the land?”

  “Mayhap you are right. It could be I am fearful of the responsibility.”

  “Fate is asking a great deal of us, Drys, but I know we are up to the task. Think of all the things we have discussed over the many years we’ve ruled here at Court Besant. We will see the true state of Court Draconis and see to it courts such as this must no longer be self-reliant. Mates will find each other again at yearly gatherings. There is much we can do to better the lives of dragons everywhere,” Conley said.

  “I suppose I shall make a good Emperor-mate.”

  “Emperor-mate?”

  “Con, you fell to the floor in pain before I ever felt a thing. Fate chose you. I am only along for the ride.”

  “I care not if your words have any truth to them. We ruled as a pair of kings and we shall rule as emperors in much the same way.”

  “That is unfair to you,” Drystan insisted.

  “The only thing I find unfair is that we are having this discussion at all. We will rule together. Arguing with me is futile as I have made up my mind.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Conley narrowed his gold eyes. “You are trying my patience.”

  “Mother is going to be pleased.”

  “Aye, we shall have to invite them to Castle Draconis.”

  “It will be hard to be separated from them.”

  “I know it, but we will manage,” Conley began. “We must see all is well at Draconis before we extend an invite. If the rumors are true and there is a lack of coin these centuries past, the castle may be in a state of disrepair.”

  “I had not thought of that. We will have to wait to see how it fares.”

  “I can scarce believe I am to wake in the morning and travel to begin my life as Emperor Conley Draconis.”

  “Why else would Fate have made you such a color if you were not destined for such greatness?”

  “I see. So I am to be the one to blame for this, am I?”

  Drystan laughed. “Without a doubt, love. I am nothing more than a plain black dragon.”

  “Black dragons are near as rare as golden ones.”

  “Con, I fear you have a malady of the mind. There is but one gold dragon. Black may be a rare color, but it is no longer the scarcest. That honor is yours alone.”

  “If my mind is gone, it is due to all the suffering I have endured these past three hundred years together.”

  “Suffering, is it?” Drystan asked as he lunged for the other dragon, but Conley deftly backed out of reach.

  “Nary a word of love or a touch of passion,” Conley managed through his laughter and ran down the length of the room.

  “Most assuredly a brain fever of some kind. We shall have you locked in a tower in Castle Draconis directly after our arrival,” Drystan said as he gave chase.

  “I’m too fleet of foot for you to catch.”

  “A valid point but in this case, you wish to be caught,” Drystan replied as he managed to grab a hold of Conley’s waist.

  Laughing, Conley grabbed his face and smothered him with kisses. “No one is more attuned to my addled brain.”

  “You are a cross I must bear. I have valiantly given it my best since the day we met.”

  “Not quite since then; you did pout for six months.”

  “Con?”

  “Yes, love?”

  “Find the oil; I appear to have some passion to serve you.”

  Conley dropped his hands from Drystan’s cheeks and raced to the bed. He tore off his boots and tossed his clothing to the floor before grabbing the oil and lying upon the bed on his back. “Drys, I fear there is quite the chill in the air. Would you be so kind as to see to my comfort?”

  “Such pretty words. It would be my pleasure,” Drystan said as he climbed onto the bed, still fully clothed, and lay atop Conley. He took his mouth in a searing kiss, but it didn’t last long before Conley pushed him away.

  “Remove your clothing and see to me,” Conley ordered. What else could Drystan do but his bidding? Besides, there was nothing that offered more satisfaction on this earth than loving his man. Nor could there ever be.

  Chapter 17

  One Week Later, Draconis Court, Home of the Dragon Emperors

  “Your Majesties, welcome to Court Draconis. I am Imperial Duke Bernal. Shall I have the servants ready a repast?” a tall man dressed in the finest clothing Conley had ever seen said as he grabbed the reigns of his horse so he could dismount. It was the color of night and glittered with all manner of gold thread. His belt was a thick dragonskin and the scabbard of his sword was intricate and costly.

  Conley looked like a humble peasant next to him, and he was dressed as he thought a king ought to be. He could not imagine the clothing worn by an emperor would be all that different than what was stored in his trunks, but perhaps he had a great deal more to learn than he thought about his new role.

  “It is good to meet you, Your Grace. If you would assemble the nobles, we would meet them while we eat,” Drystan commanded as he hopped off his mount.

  “It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty,” Imperial Duke Bernal replied with a smile Conley could only describe as oily. It failed to reach his dark eyes, which offered no warmth.

  Conley slid his hand into Drystan’s and together they crossed the threshold of their new home. For centuries, there had been whispers that the draconic coffers were reduced to nearly nothing. Castle Draconis did not appear to support those rumors. It was a towering edifice of dark stone and boasted many glass windows.

 
; Once inside, Conley could see four large fireplaces in black stone along the walls of the Great Hall which stood two stories tall. Giant tapestries littered the space and were trimmed in threads the color of Conley’s dragon. Dark wooden tables served as places to dine and two enormous, intricately carved thrones were dead center in the room. He supposed that was where he and Drystan were expected to sit.

  As his boots moved over the wooden floor, he took note of the fresh herbs across it. This was an orderly keep, and Conley hoped that perhaps it had been nothing more than the past emperor’s old age which led to the issues facing the other dragon courts. Once they were seated, food and drink were brought out.

  Imperial Duke Bernal returned to them with the other dukes in tow. There were no less than two dozen and all of them a black nearly as dark as Drystan. They were smiling and saying all the right words, but Conley seemed to be catching the ominous feelings that plagued Drystan because he grew ever more uneasy.

  “Your Majesties, perhaps a tour of the castle is in order?” Imperial Duke Bernal asked.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. We would like to freshen up first,” Drystan replied.

  “Of course, Your Majesty, if you would follow me, I’ll show you to your bedchamber.”

  Conley and Drystan trailed behind Imperial Duke Bernal as they wound their way up a wide stone staircase. Gold sconces and more tapestries were found here and adorned the walls of the upper level as well. The length of the hallway seemed infinite but eventually, they reached the end of it where the emperor’s apartment lay.

  “Your room, Your Majesties. I shall wait in the hall.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Conley said before he followed Drystan into their new bedchamber. It was enormous and as well appointed as the rest of the rooms they had seen. His eye was drawn to the massive exquisitely carved masterpiece in the center of the room.

  “Con, you are going to look very fine spread out upon that bed.”

  “If I roll away from you at night I will not see you again until morning.”

  Drystan chuckled. “The castle is impressive, is it not?”

  “Did you take note of all those dukes? I cannot recall but half their names.”