Were of the Drakon

by B Cameron Lee

  However, the Duke did privately wonder what was presently transpiring and what had actually occurred during the previous night. As far as he was aware, the Prince had no friends but it was a worry that someone or something could get into the walled palace grounds without being seen and capture or assist the Prince to get away. Security would have to be tightened. Now may be a good time to introduce the Spawn to the people of Conurbal. They were drakon-like and the citizens would be told they were there to defend the palace of Conurbal against the possibility of further inroads by a force or forces unknown. It could work out quite well for everyone concerned.

  The little fishing boat sped up the coast of Melintana. Kristen didn’t know what to do. Prince Lermond was steadily deteriorating, the effort of the previous night definitely having a deleterious effect on him. He could hardly raise his head for a sip of water now and when he took one, his poor tired body just heaved it back up. Kristen’s brother popped in for a moment and took a look at the Prince.

  “You ne’er tol’ me he was as sick as ‘at,” he commented. “He looks fit ta die.”

  Kristen answered, annoyed at her brother for stating the obvious about her Prince.

  “Shush. He’ll hear you. Bad enough having the Duke tryin’ to kill him without you putting the idea in his head. We gotta think positive Karl, try an’ jolly him along a bit.”

  Her brother nodded.

  “We’ll see what ‘es like tomorrow.”

  Then he ducked out of the cabin to go back to the helm and keep the wind in the sails.

  Prince Lermond hung on as the passing days put distance between them and Conurbal. Kristen gave him damp cloths to suck the moisture out of, he seemed to keep it down that way. She had no plan, she merely wanted to get as far away from the influence of the evil Duke as she could but she was definitely worried now. Lermond was turning an unpleasant shade of green. The matter was settled that night when a storm blew up. They were tossed about as the fishing boat was blown along and hammered by huge waves. In desperation, Karl steered his boat closer in to shore. They could hear the waves breaking loudly on rocks and prayed there were no rocky shoals. Suddenly the sound of breaking waves dropped away and almost by instinct Karl turned his boat toward the west. They entered a sheltered bay and the wind dropped away somewhat. As dawn broke they found a small wooden wharf and tied up in its lee as the storm dissipated. As the light grew stronger Kristen could see the tower of a keep sticking up above the trees.

  “There Karl. We have to take the Prince there. If we do nothing he’ll soon die but there may be help available there. If there isn’t, we lose nothing.”

  Her brother never said a word, just went below and picked up the still form of the Prince. He was light as a feather and it seemed only willpower which kept the heart in that ravaged shell going. Karl lifted the inert form and placed it on the wharf then jumped up and picked the body up again.

  “Lead on sister. It’s your plan, you can go first.”

  So it was they arrived at the gates of Balfour’s Keep carrying the limp form of the heir to the throne of Melintana.

  The sun was barely over the horizon when the gateman, Bundy, heard banging on his gate. Grumbling to himself, he left the comfort of the gatehouse and walked to open the cover of the grille which allowed him to look out and see who it was stood in front of his gate. He saw a young man carrying what looked like a sickly child and a pretty young girl.

  “What you want then?” he asked, not too unkindly even though it was an unusual hour for visitors to Balfour’s Keep.

  “We want to come in,” the girl answered. “We have an important person in our care who’s sick and we’d like the services of a Healer. We can pay.”

  The guard looked at the limp form draped over the shoulder of the young man, it barely looked alive and the greenish colour of the face concerned him.

  “You’ll ‘ave to wait here ‘till I go fetch someone. I can’t let no sick uns in to the keep without permission.”

  The girl seemed surprised but replied quickly.

  “Could you hurry please? If this person is not treated soon, he will die.”

  “That’s my point Miss. Can’t let that sickness into the Keep without someone’s permission. I be as quick as I can.”

  There was something about the girl which was quite endearing the gateman thought as he hurried to the front door of the keep. With any luck, Wiley Balfour would be up by now. He was a fair man but surely didn’t like being disturbed too early in the morning. The door was open and Bundy soon managed to get the attention of one of the inside staff, his wife’s sister it just so happened.

  “Marni, there’s some young folk at the gate with a sick ‘un. I need Wiley to take a look see and tell me if I should open the gate. Could you tell ‘im it seems urgent like.”

  The plump, rosy cheeked woman looked the gateman up and down, she had a bit of a soft spot for her sister’s man. He was a bit of a lump but he had a kind and generous heart, something which was an important attribute of a good man.

  “Aright Bundy, I’ll see what I can do like.”

  She bustled off and was only gone a few minutes before she came back with Wiley Balfour in tow. The gateman was pleased because it was not only Wiley but the old Healer, what was his name, Septican, that was it. The old un what brought that crippled kid into the keep near two years back. The one what talked to the drakon. Wiley stopped in front of the gatekeeper.

  “Well Bundy, what’s so important you have to see me so early. Marni mentioned something about a sick person.”

  “At’s right Mr Balfour, there’s a couple of young ‘uns at the gate and one’s carryin’ a sick boy with a green face. I didn’t want to let em in, just in case it was plague or summat.”

  “Very wise Bundy, lead on. Septican will come with us and give his opinion.”

  The three of them trooped off down to the gates and Wiley took a look through the view hatch.

  “Good morning, where have you come from so early?” he asked the two young folk in front of the gate. The young man stood up from arranging the body of a third person on the ground but it was the girl who answered.

  “We were on my brother’s fishing boat and were caught in a storm yesterday. We steered into the bay last night and found the jetty. This morning we saw your keep and came for help. Our companion is sick, poisoned I think and we don’t know what to do. He’s dying.”

  Wiley thought for a moment as he looked around. The green-faced youth lying on the ground was barely breathing but his clothes were of excellent quality and would have cost a lot. The girl was dressed as serving girls do while the young man, her brother supposedly wore the garb of a fisherman.

  “Who’s the sick one? He asked of them.

  Sister looked at brother questioningly. All he said was.

  “If’n we don’t trust ta luck and tell ‘em, he’ll soon die.”

  She nodded before turning back to Wiley.

  “This is Crown Prince Lermond of Melintana. His Uncle, the Regent poisoned him last week. I saw it. We rescued him.”

  There was a sudden intake of breath from behind Wiley and Septican moved to look out of the grille.

  “Dramad be damned, that is the Prince. Open the gates.”

  As the gate was being unbarred, Septican quickly asked the names of the girl and the youth outside, finding out they were brother and sister. Once the gate was opened he knelt beside the Prince and placed his hand on the young man’s forehead and heart, concentrating as he felt the life force within. It was weak and thready, Kristen was right, the Prince did not have long to live. Septican concentrated and with his magic, imparted some energy into the still body before him. A groan escaped the Prince’s lips as a little colour returned to his cheeks. Kristen knelt opposite Septican.

  “Can you do anything?” she asked concernedly.

  “I can try. If I knew what poison was used it would help but there are a few things we can do. How is it you came to save the Prince?”
<
br />   “I was one of his serving girls at the Palace. He started confiding in me nearly two years ago, wanted to know what his subjects were thinking because the Duke shielded him from the concerns of his people.”

  Septican picked up the Price’s limp form as Wiley spoke to Karl about conditions in Conurbal and the four of them proceeded to walk to the Keep leaving Bundy to shut the gate. Before they had gone too far, Wiley stopped and turned, calling out to Bundy.

  “Good decision Bundy, there’ll be a little extra in your next pay. Keep up the good work.”

  Bundy nodded acknowledgement, a grin splitting his honest face as Wiley, Septican with the Prince in his arms plus Kristen and Karl crossed the courtyard to enter the Keep. Soon the Prince was lying in a cot in what Kristen surmised was Septican’s own room.

  “I hope whoever is using the cot won’t be put out,” she remarked. Septican’s face changed immediately with her comment, taking on a slightly faraway look mixed with a little pride.

  “No, the cot’s occupant doesn’t need it any more,” he said, slightly mysteriously before standing straight. “Have you and your brother eaten today?” Septican enquired, looking from one to the other. “Everyone’s having breakfast in the hall right now. You should go and join them.”

  He didn’t need an answer and ushered them out of the room and along the passageway to the noisy hall. Immediately he was spotted by Vistala who had just come downstairs. Her curiosity was roused by the two strangers and she came running over to stand before them.

  “Hello, I’m Vistala, Wiley’s youngest daughter. Over there is my mother, Malena and my older brother, Bustan. My oldest brother and sister are away in Wenstrom looking over the breeding stock.” She saw Septican scowl and smiled sweetly at him. “What are your names?”

  Kristen was disarmed by Vistala. The girl must be three or four years younger than her but she was so self assured and forward. Kristen decided she liked Vistala so she smiled as she replied.

  “I’m Kristen and this is my brother Karl. He’s a fisherman. We came on his boat and were blown into the bay last night. We only just arrived here this morning.”

  Vistala made eye contact with Septican who gave a slight nod. Immediately Vistala took Kristen’s hand and pulled her toward the tables where breakfast was being served, Karl automatically following. The gold brought to the keep by the drakon Zirca meant everyone benefited and none went hungry. Septican watched the pair get seated before grabbing a hunk of bread and cheese from the nearest platter and returning to his room. There was work to be done. Vistala saw him go, unnoticed by everyone else and knew what he was about was important. She and Septican had been working together with Traginal for most of the previous two years and now had an unspoken communication. She turned to the two newcomers and engaged them in conversion as they ate hungrily, finding out many facts about them both. Wiley looked over now and again, proud of how Vistala was turning out. If only his other children had her inquisitiveness and spark.

  After breakfast, Vistala took Kristen and Karl up to her room on the second floor.

  “This is my room Kristen. You can stay in my sister’s room next door, it’s much nicer than the draughty guest room and I just know we’re going to be friends.”

  Before the girl could answer, Vistala took Karl’s hand and led him along the corridor. A few doors down she stopped and showed him into another room.

  “This is Vigano’s room but he’s off choosing a wife so you can stay here for now. Get changed into some of his clothes, you’re of a size and he’s got plenty, then we can have what you’re wearing washed.”

  She left Karl in her brother’s room and went back to her own. Taking Kristen by the hand she led the girl through a door into an adjoining room. It was pleasant, with colourful hangings and a sizable window with bullseye glass panes allowing plenty of light to flood in.

  “This is Bromala’s room, she’s off choosing a husband. The bed is comfortable and you’re to make yourself at home. Find something to wear so we can have your clothes washed. I guess you didn’t have time to pack when you left.”

  Kristen observed Vistala in a new light. This girl was very quick. At that precise moment there was a mighty roar and the window glass shook slightly. Kristen was alarmed but saw that Vistala wasn’t. In fact the girl looked slightly chagrined.

  “Don’t worry about the occasional bellow from the barn. Nothing will hurt you. I hope to be able to explain later but right now I’m late for my duties.” She was about to say more but heard the clatter of running feet and Karl ran into the room, a worried look on his face.

  “Did you hear ‘at? What in Dramad’s name made such a sound?”

  “Nothing to worry about Karl but I’m going to have to leave you both alone right now. Wait here and I’ll send someone to assist the two of you with instruction on how we do things here and when mealtimes are and some of the rules of the keep.”

  With that, Vistala slipped out of the door. Kristen and Karl shared a quick look at one another before going to the window to gaze down over the cobbled yard. Shortly they saw the slight form of Vistala run across the courtyard to open a barn door and slip inside. There was a discrete cough from the doorway and they swung around guiltily to find a matronly woman observing them both.

  “Hello. I’m Marni. Vistala asked me to look after you.”

  Vistala eased into the barn. She saw by the dim light inside that both drakons were relaxing on the deep straw. Traginal had grown rapidly of late and was now nearly the same size as the golden drakon he lay beside. Zirca, his intended mate, had explained to him that he was destined to grow much bigger than her but it would take another year or so at least for him to reach his full length before he started to fill out.

  Vistala immediately sensed the strange feeling of intrusion as he entered her mind, something he only did when she visited the barn but she knew he could do it anytime. It had been so ever since she’d licked her lips and tasted drakon the day he’d touched her face with his tongue after his first flight. It was a mark of the closeness between them. Sometimes though, she felt as if Zirca were in her mind too. It was a much better way to communicate than scratching letters in the dirt, Traginal’s first foray into communicating with her and Septicon and she was extremely glad this ability had been given to her. As he’d grown and more drakon powers came to him, Traginal discovered how to make the mind bridge. First with Septicon, which made his uptake of magic more rapid and more lately with her when she’d tasted the special venom he’d added to his saliva that day he’d licked her face. Information passed speedily between them now and Vistala felt the surprise in Traginal when he learned that Prince Lermond was in the keep.

  “Septican used to tell me of the Prince and Duke Erkhart, who was Regent. The Duke murdered my mother and my father, Septicon’s son. He really hates the Duke for that. I was too young to know about it at the time and if it wasn’t for Septicon taking me away, the Duke would have had me murdered too, I guess. There’s something about our family that the Duke’s afraid of but what it is, I’ve no idea.”

  “Well, he’s poisoned the Prince apparently. The serving girl who brought him here saw the Duke put poison into the Prince’s wine. She spilled that goblet but the Duke sent her away. It was after that the Prince became ill. Septicon’s looking after Lermond now.”

  Traginal’s large, black head swivelled on his sinuous neck and a pair of golden drakon eyes steadily regarded Vistala. She saw the interest there.

  “What does Septican think it is?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet, they only arrived early this morning. Will you be alright if I slip away?”

  Reassurance flooded her mind so Vistala made her way out of the barn and back to the keep. It wasn’t long before she was assisting Septican as he ministered to the Prince.

  “How’s Traginal this morning Vistala?” the Healer asked as he washed down the Prince’s body. He’d removed the soiled and dirty clothes and was try
ing to clean the Prince as best he could. Vistala lent him a hand as she answered.

  “A little bored I think. Only flying once a week is limiting for him but really, it beats being discovered before they are ready. Maybe they should try flying at night.”

  Septican nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, it would be preferable but their night vision is not good enough to allow it. That’s why they need to wait for both moons to be full for night time flying.”

  The Prince groaned and his eyelids flickered open, the blue eyes reddened and unseeing. Septicon held water mixed with honey to the Prince’s lips and the youth managed a few sips before lapsing back onto the cot. Septicon was worried. He couldn’t tell what the poison was, the symptoms didn’t fit any of the many he knew. What could he do? Who knew more than him? He left the Prince in the care of Vistala, who continued with washing him down and went to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat and see if there was any tea made. The cook gave him a piece of cake leftover from the day before and Septicon sat at the large table in the kitchen, thinking hard.

  As he savoured the flavour of the cake, an idea came to him. Taste! Could Zirca taste the poison on the Prince? It was worth a try, as he surely had no options left and the young Prince was certain to die before the day was out. Action, that’s what was needed now. Septican left the kitchen and hurried to his room. He arrived just as Vistala had finished dressing the Prince in a clean shirt and trews.

  “Vistala, I have an idea. Slip out to the barn and warn Traginal I will be coming out there with the Prince. He has to explain to Zirca that the Prince should be allowed into the barn and that he’s no threat. It wouldn’t bode well if she ate him.”

  Vistala scurried off, she knew urgency when she heard it. If there was any possibility of saving the Prince of Melintana, Septican was the only person who could pull it off. She knew he was a powerful magician in his own right, she’d been present during some of Traginal’s lessons. In fact, she’d picked up a few simple spells herself by observing. Soon she was at the barn and eased in through the door under Zirca’s watchful eye. Since Helmar had disappeared the denizens of the Keep generally gave the barn a wide berth.