Dragon's Revenge
Page 53
Eight months into Mayra’s pregnancy, word had come that King Forcial had died—perhaps naturally?—in his sleep. Once his legal bequeaths had been read out, Mayra had found herself a woman with wealth beyond her imagination, and Nesht had a king no one had expected, but now wholly approved of.
Mayra and Wolfe had traveled to Nesht for Forcial’s funeral, shortly before the birth of Nyx, riding Talft and Diaya, with Alden and Perice following. The sight of dragons winding their way over the city of Sayron, the capital city of Nesht, was far less alarming than it had been the first time the population had spotted the dragons, carrying the Brens and Cherra back to Nesht.
And that was mainly because of the influence of that popular new king.
At twenty, King Leishen was a young king, but with the guidance of Lord Leisher, his namesake and new advisor, many changes had taken place after the first weeks of his coronation. King Leishen might spend far too much time among the huge beasts, listening to their tales and soaking in their wisdom, but cutting taxes countrywide and raising the salaries of those who worked for His Highness had been a popular move.
The new king had welcomed dragons; he rode mighty Talft as though he were born to it. But most importantly, he recognized the altruistic nature of these dragons. They were not there to fight wars and take over countries. They were there to be companions and for humans and dragons to learn from each other.
These dragons were wise and gentle. Hadn't the king introduced his half-sister, Princess Aleesia, though hardly more than a baby, to the dragons? And when her royal half-brother gave her a ride in his arms, hadn’t she laughed gaily and caused her mother, Dowager Queen Miia—and woe to anyone she heard calling her that—to faint?
Wolfe chuckled. The people hated the Dowager Queen, King Leishen’s stepmother therefore, they liked dragons. When lovely Diaya had growled at the Dowager Queen for insulting her offspring, the people had cheered. Lord Leisher had warned Miia not to remove little Princess Aleesia from the kingdom. Or to again offend the dragons.
King Leishen, raised more by Leisher than his father, scorned the court intrigues of his elder brothers and his stepmother. Wolfe suspected the spirited and handsome young man, who probably didn’t yet realize his capabilities, would be a magnificent and powerful king. Leishen had sent his brothers out of the city on fact-finding missions, again at Leisher’s suggestion, to keep them busy and out of Leishen’s hair. It was another wise move.
While those two were away, Leisher had confided to Mayra and Wolfe, he hoped to find the new king a queen. And soon. Mayra had suggested a Ring-Witch or even a witch-warrior would be a good match. Surprisingly, Leisher had agreed. And Mayra had left. The time she spent with her former Warlord was minimal. Wolfe and Mayra hadn’t stayed long in Sayron. Trandye was much more comfortable, with no court intrigue and freedom to run with warriors and ride with dragons.
Wolfe smothered a yawn. Since when was he tired so early in the evening? Being a father seriously changed a man. Being a father to a daughter was world-changing. How did other men do it?
He thought of Aristen, wearing Enhancement Rings and welcoming dragons into the Fortress city, Trandye. The Fortress lord and the two Ring-Witches—Marten and his mate Noura—had happily assisted Wolfe in taking down walls in the high, back room of the Fortress to make living quarters for dragons. Along with Gaulte and Hesta, young dragons Arden, Perice, Gabrel, and Aesta, were there to learn about humans and remind the humans of a new life force in Nesht. Tamsin, though also an avid student of all things human, did not enjoy the adventures offered her siblings; rather, she remained with her parents in the fortress, helping Hesta with her two female nestlings. But more often, Tamsin was elsewhere in the fortress with Mayra, from whom she rarely wandered.
Wolfe waved his hand toward the doorway that led to little Nyx, and a black mist settled between the two rooms, silenced to prevent vocal Mayra from awakening the child.
Wolfe rolled over onto Mayra and she was instantly awake. “Tomorrow morning we will sleep in,” he decided, kissing her temple. “Now we will find out what else we can do to cause Gaulte to have to explain strange colors and sounds to his younglings.”
* * *
“Mama, Papa, come look at Wolfe and Mayra’s door! It is red—no, it is blue!”
Go back to bed, Tamsin. Gaulte sounded weary. Why are you up so early? You should be in your own room! You will awaken your sisters. Leave Mayra and Wolfe alone!
“Guard your thoughts!” the black dragon shouted as he lumbered past the chambers of Wolfe and Mayra.
It was almost dawn. Gaulte took a deep breath, then shook his head. How did they keep their own nestling quiet amid all that noise and those colors everywhere?
The black dragon could only hope that his two youngest daughters, Tarran and Nauren, were far less a handful that his secret favorite child, Tamsin.
“By the Great White Goddess,” he muttered, guiding his nestling back toward her room. “It is worse than having randy ten-yearlings in the Aerie. I will have gray scales before Tamsin reaches that age.”
But by then, he was wearing a huge dragon grin. The last time he had lived with humans, he had been but a nestling himself. He did not remember them being so spirited. So—frolicsome. He nodded. That was a suitable word for Mayra and Wolfe.
Perhaps those long-gone humans had not had the depth and reach of magic, the prowess of the blade—no, perhaps those others had not loved each other as these two did. Yes, love brought the magical sounds and colors, the souls joining as one. It was a dragon thing, he thought, suitable for the human children of dragons.
The End
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