Roja followed. Drakon heard Arana’s cry of delight. As Azure left the forecourt Drakon felt as though he’d left his stomach behind. Would the sensation ever change? He swallowed several times to control the urge to lose his breakfast.
Four mighty wing strokes and Azure soared. All of Drakon’s discomfort vanished. The blue caught a stream of air and glided. Drakon watched the trees grow smaller. He turned his head and saw Arana and Roja. Verde sped ahead.
Azure banked and followed the green. Drakon saw the mountains that separated his land from the one where the priestesses ruled. He glanced at the other range of towering peaks and wondered about the wizards. Could they cross those mountains and come to High Peaks?
*The Old One says only with strong dragons,* Verde said. *The wizards kill dragons. I would like to fly there and bite them.*
*I’m not sure that would be wise.* Drakon wondered if he would ever become used to the dragon’s ability to listen all the time and respond to his thoughts.
*You sound like the Old One.*
As they flew over the forest Drakon noticed where several hardwoods had fallen. He noted the location. He would let Radlan know so they could cut wood to be used for furniture or fires. An addition to the black rock they used in the fireplaces would be welcome.
*During the most bitter winters the tower people often moved to the caravan,* the Old One said.
*A good idea, except when there are dragonets.*
*This year was unusual. By next winter there will be no dragonets.*
*Have you no desire to fly with us?* Drakon asked.
*When spring comes and the air is warmer I will take wing. The cold is not good for old bones.*
*I see.*
*Verde is my eyes. At night he flies over the pass to make sure the evil one remains on his side.* The Old One sighed. *Verde believes you should fly over the pass by day.*
Drakon frowned. *Why?*
*To make sure the guards are alert.*
*Are Roja and Azure able to make a flight that long?*
*I believe so.*
Drakon wasn’t sure a flight over the village was a good idea. Though most of the villagers had been glad to learn about the eggs in the cavern, there were those who envied the speakers and desired to become one. Bekla was such a person, and he feared Tiron was another. Drakon shivered. Bekla’s blatant sensuality made him uncomfortable. She craved a dragon speaker as a husband. He had no desire to see her at the tower, or in the cavern. She would bring discord.
Verde drew closer. *Drakon.*
*Yes.*
*There are two young people in the village who can speak to dragons without drinking the tea.*
*Is Tiron one?* If so that would end one of his fears. He built a picture of the young man in his thoughts.
*Yes.*
Drakon released a held breath. *Is Bekla the other?* He sent another picture to the green.
*She is not. She is the one who wanted Roja. She liked the berry tea. Even after many cups, she has little ability. Her speaker’s path is narrow. She is not a nice person. I saw things in her mind like what I have seen in the evil one.*
Drakon thought about Verde’s impressions. Regret filled him. He should have done something about Bekla when she had come to the cavern, but he hadn’t been able to kill her.
*OH, oh, oh. The people see us. They wave. They are happy to see three dragons in the sky.* Verde flew lower and performed a loop before coursing over the commons. *Follow me.*
*Is this a good idea?*
*Why not. They like me.*
Though Roja and Arana followed Verde Drakon kept Azure aloft. *The men who betrayed the tower came from this village. Even now, men from here guard the pass.* Drakon drew a deep breath. *None of Lagon’s men entered this village. I wonder if they were given free passage. The headman denies any role in the betrayal. He says the traitors are dead, but there could be others.*
By the time Drakon finished his explanation the village was behind them. They flew over the pass. The towering cliffs on either side were snow-covered. Drifts of snow blocked the narrow pass. Drakon saw how a few men could hold against any number of invaders. Though this news was welcome, his concern was strengthened.
Another thought occurred. If there had been no traitors High Peaks would boast a full quota of dragons. Would he still be the misfit who couldn’t tolerate the tea? His attention centered on the pass. *I can’t believe a troop of men marched through the pass and failed to invade the village.*
Verde angled down. *Look over here. There’s a trail that circles away from the village.*
Drakon studied and found what Verde had seen. *Let us follow and see where the trail leads.*
*Good. If this is a road to the tower, the distance is shorter than the way we came.*
*We must see men never use this road unless they come in peace to trade.*
*I agree.* The Old One joined their conversation.
*We should change the pass guards,* Drakon said. *The ones there are kin to the betrayers.*
*At present, there is no need or a reason to do this,* the Old One said. *In the spring when you take the horses to help with the plowing you can speak to the headman.*
*That will work,* Drakon said. Still uneasiness remained.
*Time to return to the cavern.* Verde sped ahead. *We have been aloft for a long time and have traveled a great distance. I will be ready for a hearty meal and a sleep. I am tired.*
*I am not tired, but I am hungry,* Azure said.
Every time the blue spoke, Drakon was startled. Azure seldom used the speaker’s path.
*So you say,* Verde said. *Drakon and Arana also need a feeding. The next time we travel so far we must bring food for the dragons and people.*
*To the cavern and the pool,* Drakon said. *I’m not as hungry as I am cold. Azure, when we reach the cavern you will be tired.*
*I will?*
Drakon laughed. *Yes.*
Just before sunset the dragons landed on the forecourt. Verde and Roja entered the cavern. Azure followed. *You are right, I am tired but it is a good tired. Dragons were made to fly.*
Drakon slid from Azure’s back and removed the saddle. *To the pool. By the time you finish bathing and are oiled, Radlan will have a feeding ready.* He turned to help Arana with Roja. Once the red was in the water, Verde presented himself for oiling.
After the dragons had been tended, Drakon turned to Arana. “To the pool, and then food.”
She laughed. “Sounds good. We must talk to Sofona about warmer clothes.”
Drakon stripped and entered the pool. He swam to the falls and stood beneath the hot stream. When his muscles relaxed, he scooped soap from the pot and began to wash.
“I’ll do your back, if you do mine,” Arana said.
Drakon sucked in a breath. He would allow her to touch him and he would refrain from pushing her away. “You first.” He spread soap on her back and massaged her shoulders.
“Ah, that feels wonderful. I never realized how tight my muscles were.”
“We were aloft for hours.” With slow stroked he moved his hands over her skin. When he reached her buttocks he slid one hand between her legs and caressed her nether lips.
“Enough for now. Let me do your back.” She ducked to rinse herself and reached for the soap.
As she massaged his shoulders Drakon swallowed a groan. Her touch alternated between firm and light. When she soaped his rear, he felt her fingers brush between his legs and touch his sac. He felt hotter than the water. He had to resist. What he wanted was not his right. His phala filled and his body thrummed with a need he had no right to feel. He had to stop her explorations. He had no right to experience pleasure, only to give it to her.
He turned and ran his hands over her breasts. The taut nipples proved a temptation he couldn’t resist. He lifted her to the ledge and placed her on the toweling. He drew one nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the top. Her sighs spurred him. While he sucked, he slid one hand over her abdo
men and found her pleasure node. As he stroked her sighs turned to whimpers and then to cries. Her nails dug into his shoulders.
Drakon raised his head. “You should not touch me. That is not the way of pleasure.”
She let his gaze. “Have you ever thought that giving can be as pleasurable as receiving?”
“Those thoughts are forbidden.” He kissed his way down her body until he reached her hidden places. He lifted her hips and ran his tongue along her labia. The taste of her delighted him. Her scent became the headiest perfume. He stroked, at first long and slow, but as her cries became louder, the tempo changed. Her breathing became short gasps, punctuated by sharp cries. His name spilled from her. The sound sent him into a frenzy. When he felt her body tense, then convulse with release, he sank back on his heels and watched the lightning changes of her expression.
“Come to me,” Arana cried. “Fill me.”
As though entranced, he knelt between her legs. He held his phala and prepared to enter her. Memories flooded his awareness and carried him to the place of his torment. In the harras, his final test had been to resist the cries of the priestess chosen to tempt him. He had succeeded.
As he inched toward Arana his body tensed in anticipation of punishment. If he surrendered to her fervent pleas, thorns would jab his body. The exquisite pain of the headache would bring a wish for death. “I can’t. I won’t.” He rolled away and collapsed on the stone.
Arana stroked his back. She pressed her lips to his skin. Her hands glided over his body. Slowly he uncurled. She rolled him to his back. Though he wanted to fight her, to deny her, an urgency to escape the memories stayed his protests. She straddled his legs and curled her hand around his phala. Panic rose, but he couldn’t move. She bent and ran her tongue along the head. “Let me ease you. Let me return what you have given me.”
Slowly the rigidity of his body relaxed. His tightly coiled muscles lost their tension. He heard the gentle commands she spoke. This had never happened before. Was this another test he was destined to fail?
She stroked his erection. “So big. So powerful.” Her crooned words brought ideas he had never considered. She ran her tongue along the length and made sounds she made when she licked honey from her fingers. She drew him into her mouth. He felt the need to release and fought the urge.
Though he wanted to deny the waves of heat flowing to his groin, the actions of her mouth and tongue urged him to move, to thrust and retreat. She fondled his sac and caressed the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He felt jolts as though lightning struck.
He pressed his hands against the stone. He moved his hips. He groaned and fought the forbidden release.
Arana drew him deeper. She sucked. Though he tried not to, with a sudden spurt he erupted. “No,” he cried. He jerked away and curled into a ball.
He felt feathery touches on his skin. Where were the thorns? Instead her kisses moved from his shoulders along his spine.
She embraced him. “Come to the sleeping place. Though warm, the stones are hard.”
“I can’t.” He began to shake.
*Do as she says,* Azure commanded. *I do not want you to be ill. Verde told me how sick Arana was when she arrived. I do not want you to fall ill that way.*
Though the dragon didn’t understand he wasn’t ill, the concern warmed Drakon. He rose and stumbled to the cot. As he stretched on the mat, a realization arose. Something important had occurred, but he was too tired to consider what.
* * *
Lagon sat in the speakers’ room and stared at his hands. All attempts to goad the red dragons had succeeded and failed. They had risen. The blues followed, but no eggs had formed. Except for the green egg, there had been no eggs laid in the years since he’d invaded High Peaks. What had happened?
Other than the increasingly poor harvests, he could think of no other cause. The quality, as well as the quantity, had decreased. The bushes were stunted. Were there enough in the storehouse to provide the four blues with the ability to fly and to retain their speaking paths?
The steward, a near kin who had no tolerance for the tea but had a knack for the dragon’s care, appeared. “My lord, two men from the hills near High Peaks Tower have arrived. They bring gifts we at Sea Cliff sorely need. Sacks of thorns and berries of prime quality, better than any we’ve seen for years. They beg an audience.”
Lagon smiled. “Show them in. Bring food and liquor from my private stash.” These men might give him more than thorns and berries.
Moments later, two young men followed the steward into the room. The steward gave their names. Lagon disregarded the names and studied the pair. One was tall. The shorter one wore a beard. Both had muscular builds. Lagon waved them to seats, poured small glasses of pale gold liquor. The steward brought a platter of cheese and dried fruit.
“Restore yourselves,” Lagon said. “Where did you find the prime thorns and berries?”
“From the fields of the remaining village sworn to High Peaks Tower, my lord,” the bearded man said.
“We heard from the traders of furs and hides that your bushes were blighted. Ours thrive and we’ve little use for the bounty of our hedges.” The tall man raised his glass.
“We came as soon as we could get our horses through the pass. Good thing we left when we did. Another storm arrived the very next day.” The bearded man ate cheese and dried fruit.
“Are there dragons and eggs at High Peaks?” Lagon kept his voice steady. Had the High Peaks red been with egg when she’d escaped? Was there someone at High Peaks Tower clever enough to keep the eggs and send the red to her death?
“We heard rumors of a pair of eggs and other dragons.” The bearded man sipped his drink. “We’ve seen no dragons, but we seldom leave our post.”
The tall one leaned forward. “Our sister is the one who said there were eggs. She’s a fanciful one. Obsessed with becoming a dragon speaker’s wife.” His mouth curved in distaste. “When she was fourteen one of the former lord’s sons seduced her. She joined him during a mating flight.”
“When he sent her away and refused to put his wife aside, she complained to our uncles.”
“And they betrayed High Peaks.” Lagon filled their glasses again. “Why have you come here?”
The bearded man raised his glass. “To find a dragon speaker for her to wed. The thorns and berries are part of her dowry. Come harvest, we can supply her husband with wagon loads of this quality, and healthy bushes to invigorate his hedges.”
Lagon smiled. “Then tell her she will be welcomed here. There are four speakers who are unwed. I am one. As my wife, she would rule four towers.”
“We will tell her,” the tall one said.
Lagon leaned forward. “After she arrives, you can help my servants enter the pass to obtain my dowry. I will take High Peaks Tower under my rule as I should have years ago. Why wasn’t I informed about your village during the last invasion?”
The bearded man shrugged. “Only my uncles know, and they are dead. If we do what you want we expect to be rewarded by other than death.”
“And you will be.” Lagon smiled.
Chapter Eight
Arana studied Drakon’s face. In sleep all the worry lines that usually etched his forehead vanished. He looked younger, and more like the boy who had been her friend. She was tempted to kiss him awake so they could share pleasures again. Could she stir him with her hands and mouth until he was mindless with desire? She wanted to unite with him.
She rubbed her arms against a sudden chill. She recalled his reaction after he’d released his seed. A wave of guilt swept through her thoughts. For some reason his pleasure turned to pain. She needed to understand why. His touch, his taste, his smell, everything he did to her made her soar. Beneath his hands she felt as exhilarated as she did on Roja’s back soaring through the air. Why did Drakon barricade himself?
The priestesses had done their best to destroy him. She pounded her fists on the sleeping mat. Why did they treat him that way? Why had th
ey made him fear his own passion? She sighed. At least this time he had allowed her to bring him release. Was he healing?
*He is,* the Old One said.
*Are you sure?*
*What was done to him took several years of conditioning and cannot be undone in a trice. When your dragons rise to mate, Verde will lead Azure in a sequence I believe will break the last of those bonds.*
Arana sighed. *I pray you are right. When will this flight take place.* An eagerness to kiss Drakon took fire.
The yellow chuckled. *Do not think of desire now. You and Drakon slept the night through. Four dragons to feed and check should keep you from dwelling on what will come.*
*As always, you are right.* Arana brushed Drakon’s cheek with her lips. As she dressed she remembered how ill and frightened she had been when she’d arrived at the tower. Sofona had healed her body. Being with Drakon and the Old One had dampened her fears. Roja, Verde and Azure had given her hope.
*Arana,* Roja called. *I itch, and I am hungry.*
*I’m on my way.* She pulled on her boots and went to her dragon. While she oiled Roja, Sofona and Radlan arrived with barrows of meat.
“Where’s Drakon?” Sofona asked.
“Asleep.”
“Is he ill?” Radlan asked.
Arana shook her head. “He’s exhausted from fighting ghosts of his time in that temple.”
The older woman nodded. “We knew he suffered during his time as a prisoner. He never spoke of what happened. For months after he returned he woke at night screaming words we didn’t understand. We thought the collapse of the tunnel through the mountains was the cause.”
Arana drew a deep breath. Though she knew much of the story of Drakon’s captivity, the tale wasn’t hers to reveal. “I have every hope the time draws near when he can put those memories to rest.” She turned and continued her care of Roja. She noticed Sofona worked on Verde while Radlan oiled the Old One. “It’s nice to have help.”
Sofona smiled. “For two years I cared for the Old One, and for Radlan’s wounds. Lagon left him for dead. His arms and legs were broken and for months the head wound left his wits addled. When I finish here, Radlan and I will oil Azure.”
Dragons of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 2) Page 12