Kiss of the Dragon

by Christina James

  Charles glanced at his companion for several long moments without speaking, taking in the sight of the large, solemn man sitting astride his giant, ill-tempered black stallion, which had a reputation of stepping on anyone who crossed his path. Even as tall and broad as Charles was, his huge, dark-haired companion was taller, with an immense shoulder span and thick-muscled arms and thighs. His dark, brooding mien suggested a dangerous, withdrawn man, untouchable.

  Draco wore his usual black silk jupon over his black painted mail and armor. He carried his great helm in the crook of his arm and his dark, cropped hair stuck out from his head from his habit of thrusting his hands through it. The only relief from the darkness of his attire was the golden pennant that whipped and whirled in the air behind him, on which was depicted a fierce black dragon sejant.

  Baron Draco d’Ensoleille, known to many as the Black Dragon of Normandy, carried scars on his magnificent warrior’s body from many hard fought battles. Several marked his face, giving him a fierce, forbidding look. He did not have great beauty of countenance, but neither was he unsightly. He was a true friend and Charles considered him more brother than cousin, knowing that he would readily die defending those he considered his own. It was a tragedy that such a powerful man had so little confidence when it came to courting women.

  “You are an arse, Cousin. You cannot let that woman color your view of all others. She was a beautiful, selfish shrew who thought of no one but herself and what she believed the world owed her. Her own brother said as much. He was so disgusted with her, he sent her into seclusion to teach her humility. She is probably still sitting in a nunnery to this day.” At the fierce glare Charles received from the huge, brooding man riding at his side, he chuckled. “There is no denying the truth of the matter.”

  “I have no desire to have this discussion, Charles. I am content with my life as it is now. If I want a woman, I will search out a willing wench and, for a coin or two, slake my needs between her soft white thighs. You will soon come to realize that it is lust that controls a man’s humors and love has nothing to do with lust. A man has only three basic needs in his life that he can easily satisfy—a faithful steed to carry him into battle and back, a strong sword to defend his honor, and a willing woman. One he can walk away from when he takes the notion to do so. You are the one thinking to end this journey with marriage in mind. That makes you more of an arse than I.” Draco snorted with disgust.

  Charles shook his head in chagrin as he recalled the incident that left his life-long friend distrusting all women. He remembered Draco in his younger days, so much in love for the first time in his life. Lady Deidre—he remembered the lady well. She had pledged her love for Draco and sent him to war carrying her favor. But her love and loyalty proved to be shallow and false, the greedy little bitch.

  They’d returned from a particularly fierce battle in which Draco had been seriously wounded fighting at the king’s side. He had taken a blow from an enemy’s sword intended for the king, and had nearly died. He’d barely survived his wounds. Charles was shocked and horrified at his cousin’s condition when he was carried back to their camp from the battlefield. Draco was unconscious and covered in so much blood, it was inconceivable that he still lived. Under the blood and filth that covered him, he was as pale as death. A horrible gash had been carved across his broad chest, from the top of his left shoulder slicing a path over his collarbone to curve down his right side, nearly cutting him in half. A dagger left a particularly vicious cut that ran from the outer corner of his left eye across his cheek and down over his chin, just missing his lips. Charles had been certain Draco would be dead before daybreak.

  It had taken him months to recover. And when they finally made it home, Lady Deidre took one look at the pale, battered Draco and she refused to marry him. The shocked warrior had, at first, been stunned at her rejection. He knew little of women with only that selfish bitch to judge all others by, but with her open rejection and betrayal, Draco had turned his pain inward and hidden his devastation well. He had merely nodded stiffly when she had finished her teary excuses and agreed to her demands that they end their betrothal. Draco had mounted his black stallion and rode out the gates never looking back.

  Even now, years later, Draco still kept his heart well-guarded behind a wall of indifference, which no woman had ever been able to penetrate. He only took a woman when his needs called for it, but never again did he take a maiden’s attentions seriously. It had taken a debt of honor to get him to accompany Charles on this mission of love.

  “Don’t make me regret accompanying you on this sorrowful undertaking, Cousin. I will do my duty by you and see that you are successful in your quest to find a rich wife. But that is all I am agreeing to. Whether you stay here is up to you, but I will be riding out in two weeks’ time with or without you.”

  Charles studied Draco’s face as he made his speech, trying to determine his true feelings. The high color mounting his chiseled features showed Charles better than words that Draco was not unaffected by the theme of their current conversation. Whether his cousin wanted to admit it or not, he was not as cold and remote as he would have everyone believe.

  “I promise you, Dragon, I will not be leaving this place without a bride.”

  Yea, they were nothing alike in looks or temperament but they were the best of friends. Had been for many years. And now they rode side by side at the head of the long line of fighting men through the early morning haze, conversing on many subjects to pass the time as they made their way through mile after mile of rolling hills, lush meadows and thick woodlands. But the one subject that they did not concur on was that of the heart.

  “How could you not believe in love, Draco?” Charles refused to be put off, knowing even as he asked what he would hear on the subject, because he had heard it over and over again these last few years.

  “I do not believe in the fairy tale of true love.” Draco shrugged his massive shoulders as if in doing so, he could shrug off old painful memories. “Now physical love, ah, that is another issue entirely.” The arcane reply was accompanied by a wickedly arched brow as black as sin. “Even I can appreciate a good bedding now and again. No, do not try to convince me that there is anything more to it. As an old, hardened warrior, I have learned to believe in only what I can see with my eyes, touch with my hands, or taste with my mouth. That is how I have survived these many years.”

  “Ah, cousin, surely somewhere within that mighty chest of yours there must be a small spark of feeling, a little romance deep in your soul. I agree that no man can live without the simple joy of sensual pleasure. But what of the gratification that only true love brings? The high passion that sends you out of yourself when your climax takes you?” He hit his chest to make his point. “No, I have to disagree with you, Draco. Love is no myth, but rather an unfeigned emotion to which all men, including you, my doubting friend, will eventually succumb. Someday, whether you want to believe it or not, you will happen across the perfect maiden and you will find your heart tumbling wildly within your chest. Your head will turn to mush and then you will know what I am saying is true. Love is real.”

  “Love is but a foolish whim of women and bards, in which only beautiful people find happiness. It is an asinine emotion, the substance of imbecilic ballads and absurd fairy tales, but a myth nonetheless. Now lust, that I can believe in. Lust is real.”

  Charles’ laugh broke from his lips like a crack of thunder. He slapped his companion on the back so hard a lesser man would have found himself on the ground.

  “It is fortunate that I am the wooer on this mission of love, Cousin. One look at the great dark, cynical beast that you are and the legendary beauty of Castle Neige might be tempted to jump into her father’s moat to drown herself.”

  Ignoring his cousin’s predictable grumbling rejoinder, Charles smiled to himself and let his thoughts wander to the lady he had come all this distance to woo for his future wife. He knew that he must find himself a rich heiress to wed, but he ha
d not actually made a conscious effort to that end until he heard tales of the magnificent Beauty de Neige. It was claimed that she was her father’s only heir and a prize worth winning in the marriage market, and if he had to marry an heiress, why not a beautiful one? The lands he had acquired with his barony were immense and he would need all the wealth he could acquire to ensure their continued prosperity. He was not necessarily a greedy man, but he wanted this woman’s dowry to ensure his future and that of his sons. And he certainly had no objections to having a beautiful woman warming his bed to ease his carnal needs. If affection and even love happened to follow in the years to come, so be it.

  The stillness of the dawn broke over the band of horsemen as they made their way across the lush, green, fertile farmlands and through the blooming orchards and vineyards below the white granite castle in the distance. They rode in unwavering silence as they took in the wealth of the estate. The thundering hooves of their mounts and jingling of their accouterments and those of the twenty mounted lesser knights, who trailed out behind them, were the only sounds to be heard. The condition of his estate showed the wealth of the Duke de Neige and it was greater than Charles had expected. He looked forward to meeting his prosperous future father-in-law and finding out just how much his future bride would bring to him in the marriage agreement.

  “I will make a wager with you, Draco.”

  “A challenge, is it? And what would you lay a wager on?”

  “I will wager that you find the perfect maiden and lose your heart to her tender trap by the end of our stay at Castle Neige.”

  It was Draco’s turn to bark with laughter. His huge body shook with it. But he accepted his cousin’s proffered hand with a definite gleam in his dark brown eyes.

  “I must warn you, Charles, you waste your coin. As I said before, love is nothing but a fantasy a mother tells her daughter to ease her mind. And then she is forced by her father into a marriage with the suitor of his choice. Yea, a foolish fantasy.” His cousin merely grinned back at him and winked.

  “We will see, Draco, we will see. But if the rumors of Bianca de Neige’s beauty are even close to being true, I might find myself fighting off every suitor who dares to show up at the gates of Castle de Neige.”

  Draco snorted with disgust. “Tell me, knight-turned-bard, of the legendary Bianca de Neige. Remind me again of this goddess’s attributes.”

  “You have heard the tales the same as I, Draco. She is said to be magnificent! A true beauty, not only to look upon, but it is said that she has a gentle nature and a voice so sweet that she is able to call down the very birds of the air to eat seed from her delicate lily-white hands. Yea, it does sound like a fairy tale, but we will soon find out if the ballads the bards warble of the fair lady are true or not. And even if they are exaggerated somewhat, there is always this to compensate for it.” Charles motioned toward the impressive white castle that stood before them like a great snow sculpture. “Her dowry will be sizable.”

  “You are ready to confront your future bride, then, Charles?”

  “Yea, but first I must confront her father and secure his permission for the match. That task could prove to be troublesome. It is rumored that her admirers arrive by the dozens daily. She has even caught the eye of a prince or two. I only pray she has not yet selected a likely suitor.”

  * * * * *

  “Father, you know how I detest the way I am paraded before every prospective suitor like a brood mare. Please, give me more time. I know I will find a man who will love me as you loved my mother.” Bianca watched anxiously as her father paced over to the open window of her chambers and stared at the new city of tents being set up just beyond his walls.

  “A new wave of hopeful suitors has arrived, it seems.”

  “I tire of them all. I wish they would all just pull up stakes and leave.”

  The soft words together with the pleading look in his daughter’s beautiful eyes came close to breaking his heart. He wanted nothing more than to give Bianca what she wanted, but the memory of his new wife’s determination to marry his only child off held his tongue. There would be no peace in his household if he did not proceed with this plan. He knew without a doubt that if Bianca did not marry soon and leave his castle, his lady wife would never give him peace. The woman was obsessed with her scheme to be rid of his beautiful Bianca.

  “Please, Father. You have to listen to me.”

  “I am well aware of your wishes, my daughter. And I have considered long and hard what would be best for you. You must realize that you have had more freedom than most fathers would have granted a girl child in your position. Your stepmother reminds me daily of my failings in reining you in and molding you into the perfect lady.”

  A small smile tilted his lips up at the corners as his mind wandered over the memories of his little beauty growing up running wild through the castle, her laughter and squeals of pleasure filling the halls. But now it was time to let her go. A deep sadness filled him at the thought of her leaving him when she finally married and moved away.

  Richard Lemieux, the fourth Duke de Neige, was a man well past his prime and anxious to have his only daughter wed and settled with a good husband, one who would treasure her as highly as he did. “Do not worry, Bianca. I would never give my most precious treasure to the wrong man. I promise you.”

  No. He would not give her to the first nobleman who rode through his gates and requested her hand in marriage. The duke loved his daughter above all things, even if he had neglected her of late. Something for which he felt a great deal of guilt. But he planned to make up for his remissness by finding her the perfect husband.

  * * * * *

  “I can see how the king was able to fight off the bloody English with men such as you in his service. We are fortunate to have such great knights defending our countryside from the enemy. Please, my lords, please, join me as I break my fast this glorious morn.”

  “We are honored to accept your generous hospitality, Your Grace.” Charles bowed with respect as did Draco. “I look forward to meeting your lovely daughter. We have heard of her beauty and gentle nature. I would deem it an honor to be considered a suitor for Lady Bianca’s hand in marriage.”

  “You are most acceptable, Sir Charles. I hope to introduce my lovely daughter at the morning meal. I pray I can talk you into joining us.”

  The Duke of Neige was overjoyed.

  After he had sifted through the dozens of unsuitable beaux who had come from leagues away desiring to court and wed his precious Bianca, he had almost given up hope of finding a man good enough for her. But this morn his fortune changed. It had in fact brought him two fine knights, baron-knights at that. He knew without a doubt that one or the other would do splendidly for a son-in-law.

  Even though word had reached him that it was only Sir Charles who had come looking to pay suit for his daughter, the duke could not deny that either young warrior, Sir Charles or Sir Draco, would be acceptable as a future son-in-law. They were strong, powerful warlords who had earned their wealth with their wits and strength and would fight fiercely to hold it. The reputations of the lords was far reaching as well, so that even the Duke of Neige knew who they were. It was well known they were great favorites of the king. And after so many weak-kneed, milk-faced boys out to marry their fortunes, Richard Lemieux was more than pleased at his good fortune.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace. We accept gladly.” A servant appeared at the older man’s side and whispered an urgent message.

  “Forgive me, my lords, it seems that I have urgent business elsewhere at the moment. My servants will see to your needs. I have already sent a message to my daughter. She will present herself as soon as possible. She keeps early hours and will be down presently.” He motioned a servant to bring them cider and then left Sir Charles and Sir Draco to partake of his hospitality.

  * * * * *

  “Who are they, Jabulani?” Bianca tried not to sound as anxious as she felt. She was well aware of the army c
amped just outside her father’s gates. She had watched for several hours as they made their way across the valley below Castle Neige. As usual she had not slept well the night before because of the dark dream and had risen from her tumbled bed clothing to distract herself with her favorite pastime, writing children’s tales.

  The dark dreams had been plaguing her these last few weeks, every night when she closed her eyes. The dreams were filled with sensuous yearnings that made her body burn, but it was a dark, menacing face that punctuated her dreams and left her longing for something that she did not understand. It was as if her once peaceful nights had been taken over by some dark demon and he would not let her go. Fortunately, she was in the habit of rising early or she would never escape the troubling dreams that found her tangled in her linen sheets, her skin covered in beads of perspiration. She suspected the dreams were a foreboding of something yet to come and she had become watchful of every new personage who entered her home.

  Now she stood anxiously waiting for an answer from her giant, menacing bodyguard, who had just arrived at her door with news of what she knew was another suitor at the gate. His wide, brilliant grin made her uneasy at what his answer would be.

  “At least assure me that it is not another infuriating, self-aggrandizing prince. I do not think I could make it through another one-sided interview with that ilk.”

  “No, Beauty. These two are knights, baron-knights, both of them. I understand that only one has come seeking your hand in marriage.” His grin widened at the disgusted expression on her lovely face. He knew by the look in her eyes that she was about to rebel at the summons he had brought her.

  “Tell my father that I am still abed.” Her command came without hesitation. “Who dares to call at this hour of the morning? The sun has only just awoken. They cannot expect a well-bred lady to be up and about at this early hour.”

  Jabulani laughed loudly, a good-humored sound that resonated against the stone walls of the corridor. “You have been up for hours, Beauty. I would bet a year’s wages on it. And your father knows it.”