The Dragoneers’ Lair, as the hall was now called, was an intensely morbid place. Queen Alvazina was often found there arguing with her husband or weeping over her son’s body. Like Mysterian, she was a witch of the Hazeltine, and she fully understood the magnitude of the situation. She knew Richard’s life hung in the balance, and that there was no certainty about the antidotal potion Mysterian hoped to brew. Her sorrow seemed to sap the hope out of some of the others, thus the hall was sometimes the quietest place in Mainsted.
Unlike everyone else, Jenka found inspiration in the Dragoneers’ Lair. The hum of the magical field that was sustaining his peer was the same sort of power that filled him when he concentrated on his dragon tear or held his sword. To Jenka, the mere presence of Dour was hope incarnate. Without it, Richard would be dead. So would most of the people in the city. When the lair was empty, Jenka often meditated in the hall, working the calling spell Zahrellion had taught him, and practicing the Dourcraft he was learning from both Linux and Mysterian. Rikky didn’t seem to find the place objectionable, and sometimes joined him. Rikky read texts about anatomy there, but spent most of his time studying with the healers when the dragons were resting.
Herald was wearing his official King’s Ranger uniform, a new one to replace the filthy set with the hole in the rear. This outfit was too big for him. Jenka was wearing the armor vest emblazoned with the Dragoneer emblem that had been gifted to all of them by the Crown, and his favorite calfskin britches. Standing there, trying to remain calm, he was a confused well of conflicting emotion. The only thought that lessened his frustration was what Mysterian put into his head when she greeted him at the landing in the dragon bailey earlier.
“What if Zahrellion and Rikky fail?” the old gray-haired Hazeltine witch asked with a clever gleam in her eyes. “You swore to see it through, De Swasso. If they fetch my caps, then your word will stay true. Besides that, there are concerns beyond Prince Richard, as you know. The Confliction is drawing nearer. All of the Hazeltine can sense it. It’s like a pesky insect buzzing around inside my skull.
“Never mind that now, though. If Rikky and Zahrellion fail in their quest, then you and Jade will have to make an attempt. By staying behind, you are strengthening the commitment of your promise.”
Jenka decided that maybe she’d spelled him, because her words almost made sense. She and Herald were of a mind—and a bed—as of late, and with Mysterian’s hold over King Blanchard and Linux, Jenka didn’t stand a chance of changing any of their minds.
The King’s Rangers needed Jade’s might, that was certain, and Lemmy was still up there in the foothills looking over the survivors at Kingsmen’s Keep. Jenka wanted to see what was left of his home and visit his mother’s grave, if she even had one yet. It was true that Zahrellion could handle herself, and if she and Rikky got into a fix, Silva could fly back as fast as lightning to get help.
Jenka shook his head. “So be it, Herald, but I’m not leaving to catch the caravan on the morrow. I’m staying here until Rikky and Zah set out. I can meet the rangers before they get to Demon’s Lake.”
“You were set upon by orcs just outside the wall today, lad. Are you mad?” The old ranger had lost a melon-sized chunk of his arse to a goblin’s maw. Apparently the wound itched all the time, for he scratched at it constantly.
Over the weeks that had passed since the battle over Mainsted, he’d lost a lot of weight. He looked to have aged a handful of years in that span, too. His growl told Jenka that he was wrong.
“You’ll be leaving on the morrow, boy. You can hurry the bastards from Midwal to Three Forks where they’ll be safe for a few days. If you don’t dink around you might make it back in time to see yer fellow Dragoneers off, but after that you’ll be escorting us all the way to Kingsmen’s Keep.”
“You said us.” Jenka felt a spark of hope. Traveling with Herald was seldom dull. “You’re going too?”
“If I can shake that witch I am,” he had to whisper the last few words because ‘that witch’ and the other two Dragoneers were quickly approaching.
Rikky’s chair made a rhythmic creaking as he rolled himself across the tiled floor. The sound filled the sudden silence.
Even before she was in the light thrown by the ensconced torches on the blocked stone walls, Jenka could see Zah’s lavender eyes. Her stark white hair hung in neat, wetly combed strands, the ends splaying over the shoulders of her emblazoned armor vest. The silver triangle tattooed on her forehead glowed amber with the reflection of the torch flames. The thin lines across the bridge of her nose and the square and circle designs on her cheeks were barely visible.
Jenka was so taken with her exotic beauty that he just stood there and looked at her until Mysterian whacked him on the shin with her cane. “I see you’ve not been pondering my reasoning,” the old gray-haired witch cackled sarcastically. Then to Herald, she said, “I’d bet the makings of my most sought-after curse that King Blanchard tries to get me to undo him and Linux this night.” She cackled again. “Sooner or later I’ll do it, but it won’t be today.”
Just then a side door opened and Linux, in King Blanchard’s bulky body, stepped into the lair. “It needs to be soon, witch,” Linux said in the king’s voice. “The way his Highness abuses my core, it won’t be fit to inhabit before long.”
“You should have thought about that before you soul-stepped him, then,” she retorted.
Linux stopped and took a deep, calming breath before nodding a greeting to the others.
Jenka shivered, thinking what it must be like to be trapped in another man’s body. It was even stranger being around King Blanchard. He was still the boisterous, often drunk, monarch of the realm. But more than just being trapped in the druid’s body, it was clear he hated having to act the part of the druid in public. No one but the Dragoneers, and a handful of others, knew about the switch.
As if he’d been reading Jenka’s thoughts, King Blanchard came bursting in through the main entry. “I don’t care what you do with the man, dear. Just get it done.” He was talking to Queen Alvazina as a husband speaks to his wife, but it was Linux’s body having the conversation.
Jenka had to shake his head.
“Watch it,” the queen scowled at her husband. He scowled back at her, then motioned for Herald to take a seat at the long, oak table board. The queen paused in front of her son’s impotent form and sniffled a few times. But then, with a huff, she gathered herself and joined the table.
Jenka grinned knowingly when Zah eased past him. She smiled a smile that only he could see and he was lifted by it. Rikky looked up and rolled his eyes. King Blanchard spoke to Linux and Mysterian for a moment. A short, snapping argument of hissed whispers ensued, after which both men skulked to the table with their heads hung low. Herald chuckled. Jenka could have told them that Mysterian wasn’t going to listen. She and the Outland wizard, Vax Noffa, were the only two people alive that could undo their predicament. She wasn’t ready to do so yet, and it was said that finding a coin at the bottom of the sea was easier than finding Vax Noffa.
Zah smiled at Jenka brightly. She was patting the cushion, indicating that she wanted him to sit there beside her, instead of across the table where he normally sat. He took the place, and under the table squeezed her hand. She squeezed his back, but the sharpness of the gesture worried him. He didn’t have time to question his concern because Linux was already tapping a long pointer on the map that had been unfurled before them. In the king’s voice, but with a precise articulation that didn’t belong to the huge body, the druid commanded the room’s attention.
“You’ll see that the destination island has been added to this map, here.” Linux tapped a thumb-sized horseshoe-shaped blot of ink that was darker than the markings on the rest of the map. It was a long way east from Fisherman’s Isle, which was a longer way south from Gull’s Reach. “It has been written, by early explorers and ship captains, that the serpent who claims the bay of this atoll is a stupid creature. The last herb-gathering ex
pedition succeeded by landing on the outer shore and then hiking overland to the island’s interior. Then, on the cusp of morning, they combed the beaches and gathered the precious mushrooms we seek.”
“Why don’t we just buy some from them?” Rikky asked.
“That was sixty years ago, boy!” the king bellowed with Linux’s not-so-heavy voice. “Listen.”
Jenka couldn’t tell if Rikky’s expression was a smirk or a cringe. Zahrellion gave the boy a look that showed her distaste over his interruption. Rikky rolled his eyes and shrugged.
“Them folks were lucky,” said Mysterian. “The witches say that the coral wyrm feeds at night, then it slithers across the beach polishing its scales on the sand.” Herald nudged her with an elbow and made a face, but then shrugged at the others. “It leaves its scat just above the tide line,” she continued. “That’s where the mushrooms grow.”
“You need mushrooms that grow in serpent refuse to save my son?” King Blanchard asked incredulously.
“Moonlit,” his wife corrected. “Only the mushrooms that form under a full moon will be potent enough to pull the poison out of our Richard.”
“So what we need only grows in moonlit serpent shit?” Rikky asked with a chuckle.
Zahrellion let go of Jenka’s hand and grabbed Rikky by the ear. Jenka hadn’t known about the coral serpent. He would have worried about it more if he weren’t enjoying seeing Rikky squirm under Zah’s sharp twist. He decided it wasn’t a concern or more would have been said about it. He’d seen Zahrellion nearly blast a huge fire wyrm out of the sky with her druidic magic. He had no doubt she could handle a stupid, overgrown sea snake. Still, the added danger gave him more to think about than his emotions.
“If you have to stay any length of time on the island,” Linux went on. “You should stay on the ocean side of the land. That coral beast destroyed an unprepared exploratory ship back when the Expansion first began. You might be able to see its remains out in the bay.”
“Why would we have to stay?” Rikky asked.
“You have to harvest the caps under the light of a full moon,” Mysterian repeated the queen’s statement. “Zahrellion and I have been over it.”
Rikky didn’t like being dismissed that way, but since Mysterian was a real witch of the Hazeltine, he didn’t dare argue. Jenka understood his young friend’s concern. He also knew Rikky was far more capable than any of them gave him credit for. Rikky was the best of them as far as Jenka was concerned.
“The first caravan of King’s Rangers left here this morning. They will be at Midwal soon and then continue out into the frontier. Jenka, you will be flying guard over them when they move beyond the barrier midday tomorrow. You will stay with them until they reach Three Forks, then you will return to escort Commander Herald’s smaller party north from here.”
“Commander Herald’s party?” Mysterian asked. “What’s this, Herald?”
“I’m needed at Kingsmen’s Keep,” he shrugged innocently.
“We will speak of this later,” she scolded, but a tiny bit of hurt showed through her angry visage. Not enough to keep her from turning her gaze on Rikky. “You’ll keep your peg-leg on, Rikky Camille. I heard about what happened today.”
Mysterian then turned and started in on Herald about his leaving. Jenka watched as Zahrellion demanded a whispered explanation from Rikky. Soon the map was rolled and the table loaded with honeyed pork and game hens. Before they began the meal, Queen Alvazina stood and thanked everyone for their commitment to saving the Crown Prince. She looked at Linux’s body when she said, “...and I speak for my husband when I say that no matter the outcome of your quest, your efforts will never be forgotten.”
Zahrellion asked Jenka to meet her later at the usual place, so his distaste over the way of things between the king and the druid was soon washed away with eager hope. Underneath that feeling, though, was the ache of knowing that he would have to spend a long while without either of his two companions.
After dinner most everyone excused themselves from the Lair. Rikky rolled over to Jenka’s side. “I have to go work on the portable chair Linux devised for me.”
“Will it roll in sand?” Jenka asked.
“Doubtful,” Linux said as he joined them.
Jenka looked up at King Blanchard’s face. “Herald said you needed to see me?”
“While you are in the foothills, would you find Lemmy and take him to the Temple of Dou? There are drawings that I saw in an old journal written by a woman who claimed to have befriended an orphaned dragon.” Linux hated to lie to Jenka about the importance of that journal, but he saw no other option at the moment. Stuck in fat King Blanchard’s body, he couldn’t return to the temple himself. His vile brother Lanxe would make a mockery of him. “I remember one of them showed the makings of a clever riding saddle. I originally dismissed it as some raver’s scratch, but now, after working with Rikky and Silva, I think that the design may have merit. I’ll send a missive for Lem explaining where in the Librarium to find the volume, and what I want him to copy for us.”
“I told Linux how you fell into the wall that one time,” Rikky grinned.
Jenka laughed, remembering how Jade had saved him from that impact with Dour magic. “Sure, Linux, we need saddles. I have questions for Lemmy anyway. I’ll do it.”
“Am I not the fargin king? Isn’t the proper response, ‘I’ll gladly do it, Your Majesty?’ ” Linux did a perfect imitation of King Blanchard’s voice and manner to go along with the body he wore. This caused a laugh that lightened the mood.
Jenka used the awkward moment to excuse himself so that he could get ready to go meet Zahrellion.
Chapter Three
Like the Dragoneers, the dragons were treated well in Mainsted. A large open area, once a park, had been dubbed the dragon bailey. It was set aside for the coming and going of dragons. There were three shifts of attendants to take care of the wyrms' every need. A whole troop of hunters worked to keep fresh meat available. But at night the area was devoid of people.
Out beyond the wavering light of the night fires, there was a pond with stone benches lined around its overgrown shore. Jenka found Zahrellion sitting at one of them. She was fidgeting and looked anxious. He was nervous too, and her manner only made him feel less sure of himself. The words of love and commitment he had been about to spill formed into a knot just behind his sternum.
As he stood there afraid to say what was on his mind, the sound of the cicadas and a low-groaning bullfrog’s repetitious call filled the moonlit silence. To his surprise Zah saved him by stepping up and mashing her mouth against his. The kiss they shared was long and deep. Only after Jenka’s hands cupped her body a little too eagerly did she push away. “No, Jenka.” She wasn’t harsh, but understanding. “When we get back, after Prince Richard is well, maybe then we can think about ourselves.”
The fact that the Crown Prince had just been inserted into the moment sent a flash of jealousy through Jenka. He had to struggle to overcome it. “I’m not thinking about myself,” he pulled her back to him and whispered into her neck.
She gave in to the feel of his hot mouth on that place behind her ear, but only for a moment. “Jenka, I love you,” she said. “And I know you love me, but we are Royal Dragoneers.”
Jenka was too stunned by her words to respond. Her tone had been almost sisterly when she spoke. It was enough that the elation of hearing her say she loved him was set aside for the moment.
“Sit.” She patted the bench as she resumed her seat. “We are leaving on the morrow, just after you.”
That statement registered in his mind. “What? You can’t be. Why?”
“It is three days from Gull’s Reach to Fisherman’s Isle, not from here.” She shrugged as if she might change it if she could. “If we start from Gull’s Reach in the next few days we’ll be able to make the island during the coming full moon. If we dally any longer we will have to wait until the next.”
He let the bad news sink in and then the
contained feelings over hearing her words burst forth. “You really love me?” He took her hands in his. Her liquid lavender eyes said she did.
She didn’t answer with words. Instead she leaned into him and pressed her head against his. Jenka felt the shape of the tattoo on her forehead. It was like a triangular piece of ice. “Yes I do,” she said, before giving him a quick brush of her lips. “Rikky and I will be back soon enough.” And with that she hurried away.
Jenka heard her sniffle and could feel the wetness from the tears she’d cried on his cheek, but the strange icy feeling that was still chilling his dome was the sensation that kept him from going after her. His mind was numb, and now he was more confused than ever.
The memory of when he and Master Kember first met Zahrellion up in the Orich Mountains flashed through his mind. “Fargin women’ll twist your thinker till it pops,” the man had said.
Jenka couldn’t agree more.
Zahrellion was sick to her stomach. She’d just done something she didn’t want to do. Jenka loved her, and she knew she loved him too. She also knew that it could never be. They were Dragoneers, not villagers. They would never be able to share what lovers have. She’d intended to make that clearer this night, but instead she’d left him thinking that when she and Rikky returned, if they returned, she wanted the romance to continue. She could only hope that the time apart would distance his feelings. She had more than she could handle ahead of her.
Rikky was a responsibility she wasn’t sure she was ready for. His disability wasn’t really the issue, it was his age. Since the troop of men she was supposed to be guarding had been killed by the swarming goblin kin, she’d been overly committed to her duty as a Royal Dragoneer. But she was afraid to be responsible for others. That’s why she volunteered to continually fly messages from the mainland to the islands. She could do that alone. Saying that Crystal needed the flying time to get ready for the quest was no more than a pretense. Crystal could fly from Mainsted to the serpent’s island with ease. She was taking Rikky because it was the king’s order for her to do so, but she also knew that the plan was sound, and that resting on Fisherman’s Isle was smart. It was also smart to have Rikky there to guard the sky while she was gathering the mushrooms they needed. Still, she would have rather been going it alone on the quest, especially after Rikky had brought up at dinner the embarrassing subject of relieving oneself while flying oversea on a dragon’s back.
Cold Hearted Son of a Witch: 2016 Modernized Format Edition (Dragoneers Saga) Page 2