Dragon on Top

by G. A. Aiken

  Bram stopped walking. “I do mean—”

  “Good, good.” Adain patted his shoulder. “We’ll leave you to it then.”

  The brothers walked off and Bram, confused and becoming more and more terrified by Ghleanna’s kin, went back to digging through his bag. And that’s when he finally heard it. A bird. A crow specifically. Cawing.

  Bram looked over at the trees on the other side of the beach they walked on. The crow cawed again, his wings spread out wide from his body.

  “What is it?” Ghleanna asked him.

  “Someone’s following us.”

  “Aye. We know.”

  Surprised, Bram again looked at the brothers. Although they were still talking, they all had their hands on the closest weapon.

  “You’re not going to panic on me and run, are you, royal?”

  “My, you do have a high opinion of me, Ghleanna. It’s very heartwarming.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “No insult meant. Simply wanted to be sure I didn’t need to chain you to me.”

  “To stop me from running away? Not necessary.” Bram gave her a small smile. “However, if you find other reasons to chain me to you, feel free.”

  Ghleanna stumbled a bit. “Wait. What?”

  But before Bram could elaborate on his request—in detail—Hew yelled out, “The trees!”

  The Cadwaladrs moved in unison and with purpose, all of them surrounding Bram, their shields up and locked together, their weapons ready to strike.

  “Watch your right, Hew!” Addolgar yelled out. “Look to the trees, Cai. Adain, send a call out. See if any of our kin are nearby. Tell them where we are.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “All you need to know,” Ghleanna reminded Cai, “is that Addolgar and Hew did. Now shut the fuck up and hold formation!”

  Then there was silence. A painful, bloated silence that had Bram panting lightly so that when he needed his flame, he could unleash it as he’d been trained to do since hatching.

  They waited, the moment growing more and more tense, but not once did any of the Cadwaladrs move. Not once did they even flinch. Even the younger ones who, according to Cadwaladr Code were still too young and untrained to be on their own.

  And, just when he thought perhaps Cai had been right and there was nothing for Addolgar or Hew to see, a dragon in full armor dropped right in front of them, the beach and trees around them shaking.

  “Shift!” Ghleanna yelled and Bram shifted to his natural form at the same time the Cadwaladrs did. It was all that kept him from being crushed to death, too.

  “Shields!” Addolgar yelled and with a slam against the ground, their shields changed from human-sized to a size fit for enormous warrior dragons. “Weapons!” Another slam, this time to the base of their weapons, which had the deadly implements expanding in size. He knew that the Cadwaladrs had some special blacksmith among them, but gods, what a creation.

  “Ghleanna!” Addolgar ordered, “Protect the royal!”

  And as soon as Addolgar’s words left his snout, the first strike came.

  With the open sea to their backs, Ghleanna felt relatively sure the traitors—because that’s how she thought of them—would be coming from one direction. They could try to come at them from the sea but they’d be quickly seen and dealt with by the Fins.

  No. Approaching by land was safer and quicker. Besides . . . there were many of them. She counted at least twenty. And all of them trained soldiers of Rhiannon’s army. Soldiers Ghleanna had fought with, drunk with, raided small towns with. And yet, without a word, they were striking at the Cadwaladrs and the peacemaker.

  For that betrayal alone, Ghleanna would make sure this beach would soon be called Red Sands.

  The traitors advanced and Addolgar raised his lance. “Steady on, Cadwaladrs. Steady.”

  The first traitor, a youngster who only recently got his Corporal armor, struck first, his impatience being his undoing as so often happened with those young warriors not trained by other Cadwaladrs.

  Addolgar saw the opening and struck, his lance piercing right under the forearm—a major artery. The young warrior’s screams echoed out and the rest of the traitors attacked.

  Ghleanna moved back, pushing the royal with her rear. He didn’t speak but she didn’t feel him shaking or trying to fly away in a panic. Good. She didn’t have time to track the fool down if he fled.

  Her brothers fought bravely but, when more traitors came, they were forced to break formation. They did their best to keep their enemies away from Ghleanna and Bram, yet it was impossible to do it without risking their own lives. She wouldn’t have that.

  When several went for Cai, Ghleanna used her battle axe to strike them down. Cutting one from shoulder to hip and the other from one leg to the other. Once she’d finished them off, she stepped back again to shield the royal.

  “There are more, Ghleanna,” Bram told her, not once raising his voice. Never showing fear. “Coming from the north.”

  She nodded. “Cai! Hew! North!”

  When her two younger brothers turned, shields and weapons raised, Ghleanna sensed another dragon landing to the right of her and the royal.

  She spun, pulling back her axe to strike, but she froze at the last second, her shock making her foolish and causing her to stop in mid-swing.

  “Feoras?” she asked, unable to hide the emotion she felt at the sight of him.

  The green dragon grinned wide—and slammed his sword into her chest. The last thing that went through her mind was that the only reason he’d missed her heart was because the royal behind her had pulled her to the side at the last second.

  The peacemaker is much faster than I thought . . .

  Bram released a blast of flame that sent Feoras the Fighter—now Feoras the Traitor when Bram was done telling this tale—and a group of soldiers several hundred feet away from them. Bram hadn’t merely been bragging when he said his flame was mighty. It was a family truth. As if their flame compensated for their lack of weapons skill. With no more than two fiery blasts, Bram could wipe out an entire village.

  “Addolgar!” Bram called out. Ghleanna was in his arms, blood pouring from her wound.

  Her brother cut another dragon down before looking over his shoulder.

  “Gods!”

  “It was Feoras!” Bram motioned to the dragon, who still hadn’t managed to get back on his claws, his head having struck the ground hard when he’d landed.

  Addolgar snarled, ready to go after the one who’d cut down his beloved sister. But then more dragons landed around them.

  “Take her!” he ordered Bram.

  Bram looked around. All he saw were trees and ocean. The next port was several leagues away. And with him carrying Ghleanna—they’d never stand a chance. “Where?”

  “Anywhere! Just go!”

  “But—”

  “She’s dying, royal!”

  Bram looked down at the She-dragon in his arms and realized that Addolgar spoke truly. Blood pumped from her chest in big gouts.

  “Take her! Help her!” Addolgar killed two dragons in front of him by running them through with one thrust of his spear. “We’ll do what we can to hold them off.” He glanced back at Bram one more time. “Help my sister. Please.”

  Bram nodded and took another quick look around, his gaze finally settling on the ocean. It was the last place he wanted to go. The place he swore he’d never return to.

  Yet he had no choice but to risk it. So Bram grabbed firm hold of Ghleanna and took to the skies, moving over the ocean. He heard the shouts of those trying to capture him. They were coming after him but Bram kept going until he was far enough out and high enough.

  “Ghleanna? Can you hear me?”

  “Aye.” But she sounded weak.

  “Take in a deep breath. The deepest breath you can. Then hold it.”

  He felt her take in several breaths, but it was not easy with her losing so much blood. When he knew she’d done what she could and that sh
e now held her breath, Bram tightened his hold on her—and flipped them both over.

  A few of the soldiers were near now. Only a few feet away, but they never expected Bram to suddenly flip over—nor to suddenly race toward the ocean beneath them.

  “Stop him!” someone yelled from the shore. “Stop him before he reaches the water. Stop him!”

  Unwilling to stop until he was made to, Bram kept going, glad for his lighter weight, knowing it allowed him to move faster than the bigger dragons.

  He neared the blue water, was right there when he heard Addolgar bellow, “What the hells is he doing?”

  It was the last thing Bram heard before he hit the water, dragging Ghleanna down with him. Down and down, deep into the ocean.

  A few dragons followed him in. Foolish dragons. Or they didn’t know what the older, more experienced ones did.

  For as he kept going, the others behind him, those who ruled these waters, shot past him, their weapons out, their shark-like fangs bared. They ripped past Bram, the webs between their talons and the bright colored fin that cut down their back giving them unholy speed, while their gills allowed them to breathe.

  Bram kept going until more dragons surrounded him. Older soldier Fins who’d patrolled these waters for quite some time. They looked at the wounded She-dragon in Bram’s arms and then at Bram.

  It was Bram they recognized.

  Understanding that their visitors were quickly running out of oxygen, the Sea Dragons separated the pair. A Fin wrapped his forearms around Bram while another did the same to Ghleanna. Then they used their underwater speed to whisk the visitors deeper in the ocean—and the caves beneath. To the Empress of the Sea Dragon Empire.

  And the gods knew . . . that conniving bitch was ten times worse than Rhiannon could even dream of being.

  Chapter 7

  Bram used his forearms to brace his body, his talons pressing into the packed earth of the cave floor, and he spewed seawater from his burning lungs. He sensed much activity around him but he paid it little mind. He was too busy trying to get his bearings.

  Confused, he lifted his head to try to see where he was but his eyes stung and his hair was in his face.

  “Breathe, my Lord,” someone gently told him, patting his back. “You’re safe now.”

  He recognized that voice, but from where? “Kleitos?”

  “Good memory, old friend.”

  “Where . . . ?” Feeling his lungs had cleared, Bram sat back and pushed the wet hair from his eyes. That’s when he saw Ghleanna. She lay on her back, with several dragons surrounding her. “No.”

  He tried to get up, to go to her, but Kleitos quickly pulled him back. “Let them do their work, Bram. You can’t help her now.”

  Shaking his head, Bram tried desperately to remember what had happened. “We were set upon,” he said out loud. “Betrayed.” He frowned, pressing his talons to his forehead. “They were trying to stop me.”

  “Who, old friend? Who was trying to stop you?”

  The thought was just out of reach, so Bram did what he always did—he reached for his travel bag. It was a Magickal item designed to survive all flames, including the ones from his shifting. But the bag was no longer on him. His gaze, suddenly clear, shot across the cavern and he saw several dragons going through it.

  He stood but Kleitos grabbed his forearm, held him back.

  That’s when everything became terribly, ridiculously clear.

  “Get your claws off me, Kleitos.”

  “Now, now, old friend—”

  “We are not old friends, you deceitful bastard.”

  Kleitos’s smile was wide, revealing those shark-like fangs. It had taken years, nearly a decade for Bram to stop having nightmares about those bloody fangs. “I know we’re not friends, but it worked for a time, didn’t it?”

  Bram tried again to pull his forearm away.

  “Now, now, my Lord. Don’t make such a fuss. I’m sure we can be reasonable about all this, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Annoyed more than he’d been in an age, Bram slammed his head into Kleitos’s the way he’d seen Ghleanna do to Cai.

  “What the hells was that?” Kleitos cried out, holding his head.

  “You deserved it.”

  “Barbarians,” Kleitos accused him. “All the Land Dwellers are nothing but barbarians!”

  “That is enough, Kleitos,” a female voice ordered and nearly every male in the chamber dropped to a knee in supplication. Bram, however, merely bowed his head.

  “My Lord Bram.”

  “Empress Helena.”

  The dragoness circled him. “You do look the worse for wear,” she told him, her claw brushing his shoulder. “What have you been up to?”

  “I’m sorry to have dropped in like this, Empress. But I really had no choice. I was set upon and—”

  “Yes, yes. The ones who followed you were slain by my soldiers. They were foolish to follow you down here.” She stopped in front of him, green-blue eyes looking him over. “Foolish for you to come back. I let you go once, Land Dweller. Who is to say I’ll feel so kindly toward you a second time?”

  “It was not my first choice to come here, Empress, but to be quite honest . . . I really didn’t have another option.”

  “And that?” she asked, pointing at Ghleanna with a dark green claw.

  “She is with me and helped save my life. I’ll do what I have to to protect her.”

  “Will you now?” The Empress moved closer. Her scales, like the scales of her people, fascinated Bram because they constantly changed colors the way the sea around them changed colors. Swirling from blue to dark green to light pink to another shade of blue. It was a beautiful sight to behold—when you felt confident they wouldn’t kill you for sport. “That’s very interesting.”

  She moved away, heading out of the cavern. “Keep them both alive,” Helena tossed over her shoulder. “At least until I change my mind.”

  “It must be your lucky day,” Kleitos observed once Helena and her entourage had left. “Bram of the Land Dwellers.”

  Sneering, Bram jerked his head a little and the bastard quickly scrambled away, hiding behind a few soldiers.

  “Barbarians,” the Fin hissed. “All of you.”

  And why would Bram argue with him?

  Ghleanna knew someone was sitting on her chest. Someone extremely heavy. Addolgar? He’d done it before. He’d tried to smother her once with a buffalo.

  But when Ghleanna forced her eyes open, all she saw were some strange looking dragons standing around her. All with scales in varying shades of green, blue, and yellow; and long braided hair that constantly shifted color whenever the light changed around them. And fins. Rather than horns on their heads, as any true dragon had, this lot had fins.

  Fins? What kind of dragon had . . . ?

  Gods. Sea Dragons. Sea Dragons were surrounding her. Why? Were they trying to kill her? Or, even worse . . . experiment on her? The Fins had been known to do that sort of thing. They considered themselves intellectuals and superior to all other dragon species—the way all the other dragons considered themselves superior to each other. But where those on land were content to kill each other in battle, the Fins tended to avoid conflict. But those who strayed too far into their watery territory might be used to test out the Fins’ many potions and poisons and all manner of terrible things.

  Moments from unleashing her flame to remove the Fins from her presence, a familiar and welcome face leaned over her. “It’s all right, Ghleanna. They’re here to help you. Just relax. Sleep.” Without her making one move, Bram had known what she was planning and had eased her discomfort. Such a useful dragon, that one. And so very cute.

  “Sssh. Sleep.” He stroked her hair with his talons. “Shut your eyes and sleep.”

  And, feeling much safer, that’s what Ghleanna did.

  It had taken much work from not only the surgeons but the Empress’s personal wizard guild to save Ghleanna’s life. While the wizards kept her heart beating a
nd her brain functioning, the surgeons had worked quickly to repair her lungs and the damaged artery caused by that traitor’s weapon.

  And for that, Bram would make sure Feoras paid dearly, for Bram’s mercy only went so far.

  Now he sat beside Ghleanna’s prone form and held her claw in his, waiting for her to wake. But he was anxious and with good reason. When he’d seen Kleitos scurry from the cave, smiling and giggling like a child, Bram knew no good could come of it.

  It had been a few decades since Bram had been in the underwater lairs of the Fins, and it had been under very different circumstances. Circumstances he had no intention of repeating. This time, however, he was no hatchling of a dragon. And this time he had so much more to protect. But he wasn’t talking about bloody truces or alliances.

  “You dare,” Helena’s voice softly demanded from behind him, “bring that here? Into my court?”

  Getting to his claws, exhaustion making him much slower than usual, Bram said to the monarch, “I do not understand, Empress.”

  “That,” she said again, pointing at a still-unconscious Ghleanna. “You brought that here. Abusing my good nature”—her good what?—“and risking my subjects.”

  “I still don’t understand—”

  “A Cadwaladr!” she bellowed. “You brought a Cadwaladr into my palace!”

  Shit.

  “Kleitos said you called her Ghleanna. Is that Ghleanna the Decimator? Sister of that bastard Bercelak?”

  “Empress—”

  “No! I don’t want to hear it!” She pointed her talon at Ghleanna and ordered her royal guard to, “Kill it. Before it awakes and destroys us all.”

  “No.”

  The Empress’s eyes narrowed on Bram. “Did you say no to me?”

  “I did and I apologize, but no one touches Ghleanna. We are unarmed and unable to fight, asking for your protection. So to kill us now—”

  “But you didn’t give me all the facts. You simply brought that fighting dog into our midst like it was a harmless puppy.”

  “She is wounded and has much healing to do. I don’t see what kind of threat—”