The Dragon Lord

by Connie Mason

  Chapter Fourteen

  When love first came to earth, the Spring spread rose beds to receive her.

  —Thomas Campbell

  Never had Rose felt so helpless. Dragon needed her, and the king refused to let her leave. The one thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Raj was with Dragon. She had to believe that Raj had found Dragon alive and would keep him that way. She refused to believe otherwise, for to do so would undermine her belief in God and His goodness.

  King John’s cruel indifference to her plight appalled and enraged her. He had gone to great lengths to make sure she did not leave the palace, instructing the palace guards to turn her away should she try to leave without his permission. Briefly, Rose had considered climbing the herb garden wall, but decided it was too high and she would probably break her neck.

  Once word of Dragon’s presumed death swept through the court, John no longer expected Rose to attend his banquets. She was grateful for the reprieve and remained in seclusion while awaiting news from Dragonwyck.

  No one, however, could convince Rose that Dragon was dead, and she began exploring ways to escape. She still had a small hidden sack of coins that Dragon had left her. It was enough to see her safely home, even if she had to buy a horse, though she hoped that would not be necessary. Her plan included stealing her mare from the king’s stables. The largest hurdle would be getting herself out of the palace, and she had not yet devised a plan to accomplish that.

  A fortnight later, Rose awakened in the middle of the night with the distinct feeling that she was not alone. With a sense of dread she opened her eyes and saw someone bending over her. She opened her mouth to scream, but a large, callused hand cut off the sound. A familiar voice whispered “shh!” and she immediately quieted.

  “‘Tis Raj, mistress. Nod if you understand, and I will remove my hand.”

  Rose nodded, and the weight was lifted from her mouth. She leaned on her elbow and saw Raj’s stark features illuminated by moonlight. He looked drawn and exhausted, as if he had traveled a long distance without sleep or food.

  “Have you seen Dragon?” Rose asked without preamble. “Is my husband alive? Pray do not keep me in suspense. The king said Dragon was dead,but I refused to believe it.”

  “Much has happened since I left the palace, mistress,” Raj began. “I thought about your dream and decided that it was indeed a premonition. Then I asked myself where my master would want to go if he were gravely wounded. The answer came to me as I rode away from the palace.”

  “Dragon would want to be taken home to Dragonwyck,” Rose whispered. “Derek of Fenmore returned from the Welsh marches bearing news of Dragon’s death. He claimed he saw Dragon fall during a fierce skirmish, and that Dragon asked his knights to take him to Dragonwyck to die. I feared you would not find Dragon.”

  “I arrived at Dragonwyck the day after my master was carried into the keep. He was still alive, but barely.”

  Rose moaned and rocked back and forth, repeating over and over, “Oh God, oh God, oh God. Do not tell me Dragon is dead, for I cannot bear it.”

  “Lord Dragon was alive when I left Dragonwyck less than a sennight ago. Both Father Nyle and I used our meager knowledge of medicine to help him, but his wound had festered and his body was ravaged by fever.”

  “Why did you leave him?” Rose asked on a rising note of panic.

  “My master calls your name in his delirium. He needs you, mistress. Fear not; I left him in good hands. The holy man said your mother possessed the skill to save Lord Dragon. She is at Dragonwyck now.”

  “My mother agreed to leave the convent?” Rose asked, astounded.

  “Aye. She was most eager to reach Dragonwyck after I explained the situation. She even brought one of the nuns more skilled than she in healing.”

  “Thank God,” Rose whispered in a choked voice.

  “I left to fetch you immediately after I escorted them to the keep.”

  “I cannot leave,” Rose lamented. The king has forbidden it. He has ordered me to remain at the palace until he receives word that Dragon will live. Should Dragon die, John intends to wed me to another.” A sob rose from her throat.“I cannot bear it.”

  “I suspected as much,” Raj said, “and discussed your situation with your mother.”

  There is naught Mama can do,” Rose said sadly.

  “You misjudge her cunning,” Raj confided. “Look yonder.” He pointed toward the door, calling Rose’s attention to a cloaked and hooded figure huddled near the closed portal. Raj crooked a finger, and the figure sidled forward.

  Consternation furrowed Rose’s brow. “I do not understand. Whom have you brought, Raj?”

  The figure approached the bed and threw back her hood. Moonlight revealed a head crowned with hair the color of gold. Rose looked into the maiden’s face and saw her own image.

  “Starla!” Rose squealed. “What in all that is holy are you doing here?”

  Starla flew into Rose’s open arms. The sisters hugged fiercely, looked at each other, then hugged again.

  “I came to help,” Starla said. “Raj explained your predicament when he fetched Mama from the convent. We put our heads together and devised a plan that would allow you to return to Dragonwyck.”

  “How? This is all so confusing.”

  “‘Tis simple, really. I shall take your place so you can go home.”

  Teary-eyed, Rose regarded her twin. “You would do that for me?”

  “Why not? You sacrificed yourself for me.”

  “I would never ask that of you, Starla.”

  “I am offering, sister. Raj can sneak you out of the palace the same way he got us inside.”

  “Are you sure? Very sure?”

  Though Starla’s voice shook, she remained staunchly determined. “Aye.”.

  “I will fetch fresh horses and return for you,” Raj said. “Bring only what you need for the journey. Lady Starla can wear what you leave behind, for she brought naught with her but the clothes on her back.”

  Rose got out of bed and lit a candle. While she dressed and packed a few necessities into a pillowcase, Rose explained everything Starla would need to know. She began with Lillian, her maid, and continued through the list of people in the palace with whom she was likely to come into contact.

  “No one will question your desire to remain in seclusion,” Rose explained.“The court is aware of my situation, and no one has intruded upon my privacy since word of Dragon’s imminent death reached the palace.

  “There is a small garden behind the kitchen where I take daily walks,” Rose continued. “Ask Lillian to take you there. Should the king summon you to attend him, try to act as I would. Respect his station but do not appear too meek.” She paused, then blurted out, “Oh, Starla, I fear this will not work.”

  “Of course it will. Tis not the first time I’ve pretended to be you. Hurry, Rose. You must be well away from the palace before it grows light.”

  Rose grabbed up the pillowcase and gave Starla another hug. “Raj will return to you as soon as I reach Dragonwyck. Trust him to protect you. Remember everything I told you, and please pray for Dragon. He must live, for he is my life.”

  “I will pray very hard for his survival,” Starla vowed. “You must love him a great deal, Rose. When he first arrived at Dragonwyck, he looked so fierce, so arrogant and sure of himself, that I feared for your life.If your volatile temper did not land you in trouble, I knew your sharp tongue would. I am glad you and Lord Dragon found common ground.”

  “Heed me, Starla, there is something we have not discussed,” Rose said after a moment of thought. “Lady Veronica. Occasionally she attends court functions and tries her best to upset me. She is ever quick to remind me that she and Dragon were lovers, and that she is the woman he intended to wed. I cannot say if Dragon still has tender feelings for Veronica, but I am heartened that he calls my name in his delirium and not hers.”

  “I will pray on that, too,” Starla confided. “Go now. Do not worry abou
t me. I shall be fine.”

  Rose moved toward the door.“I will never forget this, Starla.”

  “Your generosity of spirit has made my dream come true. Soon I will become a nun. Have we not always helped one another? You are part of me, just as I am part of you.”

  Fearing she would burst into tears, Rose opened the door and slipped through the opening. Though the corridor was dark, she sensed Raj’s presence and felt no fear when he grasped her hand.

  “Follow me, mistress. Make no sound lest we alert the guards.”

  Raj led Rose down the servants’ staircase and through a long corridor to the kitchen. They encountered no one, for Raj was careful to avoid the guards. A kitchen lad slept beside the hearth but did not stir as Raj guided Rose through the darkness and out the door into the garden. Rose had been this way so many times that she needed no light to guide her.

  What Rose did not understand, however, was how Raj expected to get them out of the palace when the wall was far too high for them to scale. Once out in the moonlit garden, Rose gave voice to her doubts.

  “Fear not, mistress,” Raj whispered. “On those days you walked and sat in the sun in this very same garden, I explored the perimeter and found a small postern gate grown over with vines and weeds and nearly invisible. One night I returned while the castle was sleeping and cut through the vines. I was pleased to discover that freedom lay beyond that small, forgotten gate and filed the knowledge in my memory for future use.”

  “No wonder Dragon thinks highly of you,” Rose said.

  “You are a good man to have around, Raj. Lead the way.”

  Raj found the gate and fiddled with the latch. It opened with a loud creak. He pulled Rose through and carefully closed the gate. Rose’s mare and another horse were tethered within the shadow of the wall, calmly cropping grass. Raj gave Rose a leg up, mounted his own horse and whispered for Rose to wait until the guard on the battlement turned his back.

  The delay seemed interminable, but finally Raj gave the signal and they trotted from the deep shadows and rode off into the dark night.

  Exhaustion overtook Rose as the towers of Dragonwyck came into view. The pace Raj had set from London had been arduous but necessary. During the journey they had slept in abandoned huts and small village inns, but if the horses had not needed time to rest and recuperate, Rose would have forsaken sleep in her haste to reach Dragon.

  “We are almost home, Raj,” Rose said anxiously. “What if Mama could not save Dragon? What if—”

  “Do not speculate, mistress,” Raj admonished. “My master is a stubborn man. His will to live is stronger than the black specter of death.”

  “I pray you are right.”

  Rose approached the drawbridge with trepidation. Soon she would see Dragon and everything would be all right. She had to believe that.

  The drawbridge was up, sealing the entrance, but was quickly lowered when Raj hailed the guards. He and Rose rattled across the bridge and beneath the raised portcullis. Rose’s heart was pounding erratically as she rode through the outer bailey and entered the courtyard by the second gate. She dismounted at the front entrance and ran up the steps. The door opened, and Rose ran into her mother’s arms.

  “I am home, Mama,” Rose sobbed against Nelda’s breast.

  “A watchman on the battlement recognized you and alerted me. I left what I was doing to come down and meet you.”

  “Tell me.Mama, pray do not keep me in suspense. Does Dragon still live?”

  “Aye, daughter. Sister Agatha and I managed to keep him alive, but his fever still rages. Seeing you will do him more good than any medication I can concoct. Go to him, Rose. He calls for you.”

  Rose left her mother’s arms and ran toward the staircase. “Mind the stairs,” Nelda called after her.

  Heedless of her mother’s warning, Rose took the stairs two at a time, lifting her skirts to her knees so she could negotiate the steps without tripping. She passed Emily and Blythe in the gallery but rushed past with no more than a hasty greeting. When she reached the solar, she flung open the door, ran through the sitting room and charged into the bedchamber.

  A nun knelt beside the bed, her hands clasped in prayer and her head bowed. She rose to her feet as Rose stormed into the chamber.

  “I am Sister Agatha,” she said, “and you must be Rose.‘Tis good you came. I fear we are losing your husband.”

  “Nay!” Rose cried. “Leave us. I would be alone with my husband.”

  Sister Agatha pursed her lips and left the chamber with all the dignity of her station. Rose knew she had been rude, but she could not help herself. How dare Sister Agatha tell her Dragon was dying! Putting the nun from her mind, Rose moved closer to the bed. Her first sight of Dragon shocked her. His face was drawn and pale, and his cheeks were unnaturally flushed. She touched his forehead and flinched. The heat radiating from his body frightened her. How hot could a man burn and still survive?

  Rose knelt beside the bed and gently whispered his name. His unresponsiveness alarmed her, and she spoke his name again, louder this time. He stirred restlessly, and it gave Rose reason to hope that he had heard her.

  Dominic’s limbs were heavy and useless, his eyes burned, and his body felt as if it were being consumed by the fires of hell. Through a haze of delirium he heard someone calling to him. Rose? Nay, not Rose. His brow furrowed as he searched his mind for a coherent thought. Dimly he recalled that Rose was the king’s hostage, and a cry of despair rose up from his parched throat. He could not… would not die until he beheld Rose’s face one last time.

  “Dominic.Can you hear me?”

  Dominic stirred and attempted to open his eyes. He feared he was hallucinating when he sensed her presence nearby. He was tired, so tired, and in so much pain.It was too great an effort to raise his eyelids.

  “Dominic, open your eyes and look at me. I am here, right beside you. Do not die, Dominic. Please do not die.”

  Her urgency finally got through to his sluggish mind, and he made a valiant effort to lift his lids. At first he saw naught but a curtain of red. Then the curtain lifted and Rose’s face floated above him. He tried to speak, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

  “Nay, do not speak,” Rose said, touching his lips with the tip of her finger. She held a cup to his mouth, and he sipped cautiously of the cool water.“There, is that better?” He tried to speak again and failed. “Nay, lie still and let me do the talking. You willnot die, Dominic Dragon. I will not allow it.”

  Dominic’s effort to speak produced a very weak, “How did you get here?”

  “Raj fetched me.”

  “The king…”

  “… will never know I left the palace. Starla is there in my stead. John refused to allow me to come to you, so Raj took matters into his own hands and brought Starla to take my place. The king believes you are dead. Everyone at court does, but I knew better. As soon as you are well, my love, I must go back to the palace so Starla can return to the convent.”

  It was almost too much for Dominic to comprehend. His head was spinning, and the terrible pain he had lived with since he had fallen on the battlefield scrambled his thoughts. He had willed himself to live through sheer stubbornness, but now that he had seen Rose and spoken to her, he was ready to give up.

  Dominic sighed and began to fade, but was pulled back to reality by Rose’s angry voice.

  “Damn you, Dragon! You cannot die! I need you! I want children by you. Dragonwyck cannot prosper without its lord. The king will force me to wed one of his minions if you leave me alone and unprotected.”

  Rose’s words ignited a spark of life in Dominic, and he dragged himself through the darkness into the light. The light was dim, but it was there nevertheless, and so was Rose, calling him back from the brink of death.

  Dominic felt something cool brush over his burning flesh and with great difficulty forced his eyes open. He saw Rose hovering over him, pressing a wet cloth to his forehead. Fighting to stay conscious, Dominic savo
red the coolness against his burning flesh. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them next, Lady Nelda was standing beside Rose.

  “How is he, daughter?” Nelda asked.

  “Dragon is going to live, Mama,” Rose proclaimed. “I refuse to let him die.”

  Had Dominic not been consumed by pain, he would have smiled. His warrior woman would fight tooth and nail to keep the dark specter of death from claiming him. His mind wandered. Did Rose love him? Her determination to keep him alive was a good indication that shedid care. She had allowed her beloved sister to take her place so she could come to him in his hour of need, and that revealed a great deal about her feelings.

  Dominic started to drift off again.

  “Dominic, wake up. Mother has brought you some broth. She said you must drink every drop. Open your mouth.”

  Dominic turned his head away. “Nay, I hurt.”

  “I squeezed out the last of the infection just this morning,” Nelda said.“He is in great pain; ‘tis why he is unresponsive. Sister Agatha and I both agree, however, that he needs fluids to survive.”

  “How long has Dragon been like this?” Dominic heard Rose ask.

  “He was near death when Raj brought me to Dragonwyck. His wound was badly infected, but we have seen some improvement since we began treating him. I was hoping his fever would break soon,If it does not”—she shrugged—“there is little more we can do for him.”

  Rose took the broth from Nelda’s hands, sat on the edge of the bed and patiently spooned liquid into Dragon’s mouth. She had gotten nearly all of it down him when his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

  “Is he all right?” Rose asked worriedly.

  “He needs all the sleep he can get,” Nelda said. “You are exhausted, Rose. Your journey from London could not have been an easy one. You need a bath, food and then rest. Sleep as long as you want. Sister Agatha and I will tend your husband. A tub is waiting in your bedchamber.”

  “Nay, I could not. What if—”

  “I will not let Lord Dragon die,” Nelda assured her. “Go, daughter. I will awaken you should he take a turn for the worse.”