She chaffed to be with her brothers, having adventures and drinking beer. Watered down wine with her evening meal just wasn’t the same as the soldiers toasting themselves and their patron God’s. The toasts became more and more boastful and slurred with each flagon and Euri found her jealousy at their brotherhood mounting.
The ladies here in Irudin were the most spiteful kind, constantly jockeying with one another to be the most popular, no matter the cost to their friends honor and feelings. More often than not the young Princess found the powerful merchants daughters telling her asinine little bits of gossip about one another annoying beyond measure. Their vain attempts to curry her favor irritated the young lady and drove her to madness.
Even now they gathered at the local theater, batting their eyes at the actors and giggling at the attention it earned them like a swarm of gnats. Tristan had now been gone for six months. She wished he would ride into the gates so she at least could have someone to talk to without the constant reminders to sit up straight, stop fidgeting or eat smaller portions with more delicacy.
Kevin and Alison had visited last month, which had been a pleasant distraction. Euri enjoyed her time with her brothers’ humble wife. Alison had convinced Hanna to let her take the young lady out camping for a couple of days. Hanna was against it, but Kevin calmly explained that to learn how to rule wisely, Euri would need to know what it was like to take care of herself. In the end Hanna reluctantly agreed much to Euri’s surprise.
Early the following morning, the two of them left on horseback. The ladies had no purpose or destination in mind, they simply chose a direction and rode. After riding for hours, Euri was convinced her legs would never heal. Alison had no experience with a side saddle, so they had ridden out on standard horn saddles. Eurydice tried to keep the pain to herself, using the exercises her mother had taught her to overcome the pain with her mind. However, hours later when Alison brought her horse to a halt, Euri sighed openly in relief. Her relief was enough to convince the pair that they should camp here for the night.
The ladies laughed as they dismounted and began unpacking their tent. After an hour of laughing and muffled curses they had erected their tent and prepared a small fire. Euri could hear a stream nearby and after Alison confirmed it, the ladies decided that fish would make an excellent supper. The two of them enjoyed hours of sitting near the river bed, their makeshift poles with live earth worms dangling in the water, laughing and enjoying company neither of them often had.
They returned to Irudin covered in dust, sunburned and laughing. Hanna nearly fainted at the sight of them, which only caused Kevin’s laughter to re-double. While there was nothing about Alison that Eurydice found masculine, her sister-in-law had a love for the outdoors and the freedom to enjoy them that the young lady couldn’t help but be jealous of. That night Kevin, Alison and Euri enjoyed a last meal together. The following morning Alison and Euri shared a tearful farewell.
This was also, no doubt, part of Euri’s dark mood tonight.
There was also the nagging sensation that wherever Tristan was, he was in grave peril. A month after he left, Eurydice experienced a sharp pain where her left shoulder met her chest. It throbbed like mad for hours, but when the matron had examined it she couldn’t find anything wrong the young woman.
Tonight Euri had been laughing at a prank Gerald had played on the horse master when an intense depression had set down on her. She couldn’t quite explain the feeling; it was as though her heart was breaking.
Afterwards, Euri locked herself away in her room and had taken to brooding for hours. She tried to contact her mother telepathically and failed; she then tried her brother and failed again. Eurydice felt hopeless and she couldn’t bring herself to understand why she should feel so. She walked away from her window and lay down in her bed. As sleep began to take her, a name flared inside her mind; Mina.
~
“I’m sorry you’re what?” Tristan blurted, shocked at what he’d just heard.
“Your grandfather, boy.” Draconis admitted again.
“Impossible.” He muttered.
“Impossible is it? You know what your sister told you as well and I do lad.” He insisted.
“Look. I’ll accept most of this, the dragons, armies of impossible monsters…hell, I’ll even accept fathering a bastard child. At least most of that is within the realm of the absurdly possible.” Tristan explained, clearly still clinging to the nightmare that damaged his mind, completely obscuring his memories like a scroll damaged by rain.
“But this half-dragon story, I mean you people don’t expect me to believe everything you feed me do you?” He accused.
“Defend yourself then boy. I’ll give you the proof you need.” Draconis ordered.
The immense dragon pulled himself up to his impressive height as Tristan rolled backwards off the log drawing his sword and dagger.
Draconis’ mouth opened as he leaned forward and Tristan felt the air from the area being driven away by intense heat. It robbed his lungs of fresh oxygen and he felt slow beneath the heat gathering around him. Reflectively he raised his sword and dagger, crossing them pathetically in front of his torso. He tried to focus all of his will, as he’d done before, to protect himself.
An enormous ball of fire, not unlike those that burnt down the Bane’s fort in Guis, erupted from Draconis’ mouth. It hissed and sizzled as it hurtled the hundred or so feet between them. Tristan’s will was bent on blocking the fireball. Unlike the pathetic sorcerer’s spell, this fire had a life all its own; it surrounded the young Prince.
Sweat poured down his brow; the heat was so intense it was wilting and burning the grass in a circle around him. He opened his eyes, seeing a feint blue glow in a perfect sphere around him. The grass inside was still lush and green. The fireball burnt itself out around him and the blades dropped from his limp fingers.
Tristan looked up at the two dragons in total and complete shock. So much of what had occurred over the last year could be explained away, a flight of fancy, a beautiful and terrible daydream to escape the pain. Instead, when he’d focused his will to protect himself, the last of his memories released themselves in a torrent of anguish and pain. The reality of his life and the fiction of his nightmare laid over one another as if they both had happened at once.
He dropped to his knees and grabbed his head as his memories came crashing down on him. Fights with his father, with his brother, his tutors, behaving like a spoiled little trollop, all of these and more came crushing down on the young man.
So you finally remember? Draconis asked him telepathically.
Yes. Tristan choked.
Have you learnt from your mistakes yet? He insisted.
How could I not? Tristan replied looking up at his grandfather as tears ran down his soot covered face.
“No enemy of flesh and blood could ever match the sheer intensity of the enemy you’ve faced tonight.” Draconis explained as Tristan looked up questioningly.
“Yourself.” He concluded with a wry grin.
~
A hooded figure sat crouched over a small black crystal sat in an ornate four pronged base. Above it a large black dragon spoke; “Born into this world will be a son of a mighty King and Queen descended from dragon bloodlines. He will shake the foundations of man and bring forth an era when man and dragon will live together for the benefit of all.”
“What word?” The Consul demanded impatiently as a servant interrupted her musing.
“The Spy Master reports they have entered into their second week of the siege at Heatherington, M’lady.” The servant reported.
“How goes the battle?” She asked casually as she flipped the pages of the large tome.
“Not well M’lady. The dragons have taken a hand.” He answered.
She looked up, clearly furious. “I thought Amanda had taken care of them all!” She shouted.
“Blandis’ agents report that a white dragon laid waste to two towers and a dozen or more ladders full of Terum
soldiers and their allies.” The servant answered with growing fear.
“Fetch Master Slayer Eberts.” She barked at another servant in the room, who quickly ran from the room to fulfill her masters bidding. Turning back to the servant reporting she narrowed her eyes.
“Tell me everything.” She hissed.
~
Euri shot up in bed, a cold sweat gripped her young racing heart as she looked around the room wildly. Lately she’d been having visions of a strange dark chamber, a woman who exuded power and her fearful servants. The images had been disturbing enough, but to bear witness to her cruelty was the real punishment. If her mother were here she would easily have confided in her, but this was not the case.
She got out of bed, filling up a glass with water from a pitcher on her night table and she walked over to the window. Feeling the refreshing cool breeze helped to clear her troubled mind. She employed the breathing exercises her mother had taught her to calm her mind as she looked out into the calm Irudin night.
Weeks ago she had a similar dream, someone had died painfully and that had woken her up. Tonight the feeling was different, there was pent up rage again, but this time it was more frustrated with apparent lack of progress. The sun began to rise in the east as her heart rate began to even out. She slipped into a comfortable dress and headed straight for the dining hall.
Gerald and Hanna were already seated at the table enjoying their breakfast as Euri came rushing in. She barely sat down when she blurted; “Any news from Tristan?”
Gerald swallowed his mouthful, smiling at her candor. “None since they arrived in Delhi little one.” He replied.
“They arrived in Delhi?” She asked, annoyed that she wasn’t being included as part of the communications.
“Aye lass.” He said. “Minor trouble, but your brother is safe and well.”
“What minor trouble?” She probed.
Gerald shifted slightly in his chair which only served to increase her worry. “Nothing grand Euri, they were attacked by bandits and your brother was slightly injured.”
“How slight?” She insisted, her eyes narrowing.
He cleared his throat, casting his wife a nervous glance. “He, um…” He began. “Well, he took a crossbow bolt to the shoulder.” He muttered quickly.
“He what!?” She yelled.
“Now Euri dear,” Hanna consoled. “Your brother is fine. He’s survived much worse than this, don’t get yourself all worked up.”
Completely ignoring her Danai she persisted in her questioning. “How long ago was that?”
“Oh, maybe four months now.” Gerald answered dismissively. “We would have heard by now if something had happened.”
Irritated beyond measure Eurydice continued her ranting. “I should have been told.” She replied darkly.
“Sorry dear,” Hanna replied. “We didn’t want to worry you.”
“I want to know about these things,” She yelled. “He’s my brother!”
“Fine, fine.” Gerald soothed. “We’ll tell you everything.” Hanna shot him an irritated stare. “Everything.” He emphasized locking gazes with his wife. “She’s a grown lass and she’s right about family. I’d want to know if something happened to you.” He insisted.
Hanna’s shoulders slumped as she nodded her understanding. Eurydice had more questions though; she tried to form her thoughts as best she could. All she could clearly recall was a city name.
“Where’s Heatherington?” She asked.
Gerald dropped his fork, sending his bacon flying off the table. He looked up at her, eyes narrowing. “What do you know child?” He asked.
She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table and looked into his eyes. “Siege.”
The effect was instantaneous. Gerald stood up and began pacing the room, muttering to himself while Hanna tried to make herself busy by re-organizing her cutlery on the table.
“So it’s true!” Euri accused.
Gerald stopped in the middle of his pacing, looked at the young girl. “How do you know? Did a servant tell you?” He said frantically. “It’s important Eurydice.” He asked calmly.
He’d never spoken to her as if she was an adult before, it caught her off guard. She tried to word the dream in such a way as to not sound bereft of all of her senses. Giving up, she just blurted; “I saw it in a dream.”
Hanna’s hand went to her mouth, tears gathering in her eyes as Gerald resumed his pacing. Still muttering to himself; “…sent a letter to Kevin, I’ll need to send another to Dion…”
“Wait! What about my brother and father.” She insisted.
He stopped pacing and took a good long look at her. He sighed as he said; “I don’t understand everything going on, it’s best if your family tells you little one.” Eurydice stabbed a piece of fruit moodily, her concern weighing heavily on her young mind.
~
“Tristan.” Draconis softly called.
The young Prince was still on his knees, his face covered in soot with two reasonably clean trails going down either cheek from his tears. Tristan answered; his voice still heavy with emotion.
“What?” He croaked.
“It’s time to gather yourself my boy.” Draconis replied.
Tristan stood, still shaky as bits and pieces of his life and nightmare collided in his mind. He slowly bent down and retrieved his blades, sliding each slowly; almost methodically back into their scabbards. His real life still felt like he was watching another person, he definitely wasn’t the spoiled brat he remembered. Fate it seemed, as Captain Robertson always enjoyed pointing out, is a heartless bitch at times. He smiled as his sword slid the remaining few inches into his scabbard.
“Lesariu was right, this is a pleasant change.” Draconis observed.
The young Prince looked up at his grandfather, a wry grin on his face. “Yes well, being forced to endure years of humiliation and ill treatment will do that to a person.”
“Remind me to thank the fool who did that.” Socolis joked.
“Before or after I skewer him?” Tristan asked sarcastically casting the white dragon a crooked smile.
“Enough you two, we have important things to discuss. I assume you accept what I say is true?” Draconis chastised.
“Yes grandfather.” Tristan replied.
Draconis smiled, “Good.” He paused slightly, composing his thoughts no doubt. “I’m sure you’re aware that Draconis’ Bane means to end all draconic life on this planet?”
“I am.” He answered.
“Do you know how they block our magic?” Draconis asked.
Tristans shoulders slumped, so occupied he’d been up to date with revenge, the motives behind the attack completely eluded him.
“I don’t.” He admitted.
Draconis cursed.
“I had hoped someone would have let it slip by now.” He groaned as he stretched.
“I miss my home; I’m too old for this adventuring non-sense.” He chuckled.
He looked back at Tristan, sighing deeply.
“I’m going to ask Socolis to take you back to the keep.” He said. Tristan began to protest, but Draconis cut him off.
“No. You have duties to perform and soon another of their puppets will make themselves known to you.” He announced. “We need to know how they’re blocking our magic. Without it we can’t do much to help you, there are precious few of us remaining.” He explained.
Tristan looked up at the old dragon, smiling wryly.
“So, I need to find out what they’re up to, stop it and then maybe, just maybe I’ll live to see another year?”
“Perhaps, fate is, after all, a….” Draconis began.
“Yes, yes…you all use the line too much. Did it ever occur to you that she’s heartless because you keep calling her that?” He accused jokingly.
Socolis laughed, lowering himself to allow the young Prince to mount him. Draconis lowered his head so that he was eye to eye with Tristan.
“No matter what happens fr
om here boy, I’m very proud of you.” His deep booming voice echoed in Tristan’s head as he turned with surprising agility and walked back into the dense woodlands.
~
Horns sounded from the enemy camp as the Heatherington defenders rushed to the walls. Tristan ran up the stairs next to his cousin William as three towers slowly rolled towards the wall. A swarm of attackers rushed forward like ants running up a hill. They were already so close that when the defenders reached the parapets they began picking targets and firing.
For the last five months the siege had dragged on. Small bursts of pressure from the attackers would gain them the walls for an hour or two. Thus far the defenders had always regained control, tossing the dead bodies over the wall. After the dead had piled up six feet, the Suttenites had begun organizing cleanup crews to run out, stack all the dead in a huge pile and set fire to them to keep the maddening black flies under control.
Tristan had volunteered for one such outing, only to have the horns sound as a small squad of men and orcs swarmed all over them. William led a force out to beat back the attackers, but if it hadn’t been for the bowmen on the walls it would have failed as more and more attackers rushed them.
The young Prince had watched as the Suttenites used spear and shield to form a highly defendable mobile position and he was deeply impressed with the tactic. When they’d routed the attackers, he’d pestered William endlessly to teach him how to fight with a spear and shield. Between attacks from the Terum forces, William had instructed Tristan endlessly until he judged him ready, if barely, to use them.
King Roger had not appeared again since he’d taken the tumble from the platform. However, once again the large structure made its way through the defenders lines. The sorcerer made himself busy launching ineffectual fireballs at the defenders wall from his place next to the King while Tristan and William chuckled at the futility of it all.
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