"What do you—"
"Another knight has crossed the circle, princess. And—only imagine!" He yanked me closer until I could see nothing but his snarling face. "Elaysius is with him!"
Chapter 7
Istared at Braith in wordless horror. I could not rightfully claim surprise at Prince Owain's arrival, but I had expected some furtive attempt to contact his brother, not this blatant charge in full daylight.
"You cannot fight," I said. "You cannot change shape, you are not nearly healed—"
"I have little choice, it seems. I cannot fight in human form."
"I have a sword—"
"Which I am in no way trained to use. I'd not last a full minute."
"Then… then you must stay here. I will go—"
"Would you have me believe you care a whit for my welfare, when you send your fairy champion to fetch my death?"
"You would believe me indifferent, after the blood, sweat and tears I have spent to keep you alive? You are a fool, and will be a dead fool if you rush out into combat. Go into the tower and hide yourself." A plan was forming in my mind. "I will find a way of containing this knight."
I ran for the circle's edge, not pausing to argue any further.
He would be approaching from the forest, of course. There was little other option. I climbed atop a ridge, scanned the ground laid out before me—there he was, a horse and rider glittering with armor and mail, with a brilliant blue light at his shoulder. I ran down the hill, waving my arms.
It was some moments, running all the way, before the knight noticed me and turned his horse in my direction. Elaysius detached from his shoulder to flutter ahead.
"Ariana, hast thou seen aught of Prince Tristan?"
"Yes, yes, Tristan is well. Go to the tower and see for yourself," I gasped. Yes, I must remove Elaysius from the proceedings, for he could foil my plan with a word. "We will discuss your interesting interpretation of my instructions later. Go, fly ahead to the tower! As quickly as you can!"
Looking baffled, Elaysius obeyed, and I ran on, until Owain's horse came to a snorting stop before me.
"You are Prince Owain, I trust?"
From within the gleaming helm, wide eyes regarded me. "Princess Ariana?" he said, his voice uncertain, as it might well be, confronted with a breathless, sun-browned maiden in peasant dress, very different from the child he'd known.
"I am she," I curtsied as prettily as I could manage, still winded, "and you are here to rescue me?"
"Of course!"
"Then you must come with me, most quietly. The dragon lies in wait—he thinks me locked away, but I escaped—I can lead you 'round the back of him, where he will not expect."
"Lead on, then! Join me on horseback, we will make better time." He extended a hand.
"Nay," I said, "you must leave your horse, for silence's sake. Come, we must hurry, before he suspects!" I hauled him off the horse and across the hilly ground, keeping low to the earth as if fearing discovery, though the clank of Owain's armor would have alerted any watcher.
"Princess, you anticipate my identity, so you must have encountered my brother."
"Yes, he came two days ago."
"Is he well?"
"He is alive," I said, "though injured. Come, we must move quietly."
I led him, low and roundabout, to the kitchen outbuilding, which I knew would be empty at this hour. The kitchen, of course, had large windows, which did not lock... This might be more difficult than I had thought.
"The dragon is in the kitchen?" Owain asked, but I shushed him, and nudged him ahead of me inside.
When he had his back to me, and his attention on scanning the room for enemies, I dropped a pot over his head and slapped it hard with a ladle.
There was a great deal of noise for some minutes, between Owain's shouts of surprise and anger, the clanging of pots and pans and cutlery as we crashed against the walls, my own growls of effort as I at last succeeded in trussing him up with a torn tablecloth and the rope where we hung herbs to dry.
"You are not the princess!" Owain cried, voice muffled by helm and pot.
"Of course I am." I removed both pot and helmet, for his comfort, and even found a sack of flour to pillow his head. He showed no gratitude for my concern, only glaring at me. "Oh, come, Owain, do you not recognize me? It has been years, to be sure, but I recognize you well enough." He had been a moon-faced boy, clumsy and sour; I could not say he looked much different now, but I had given him reason enough for sourness. The family resemblance to Tristan was noticeable, but his cheeks were rounder, his hair a lighter brown, and his eyes dark where Tristan's were blue.
"The Ariana I knew was a well-mannered child," Owain grumbled, "not one to betray her rescuer!"
I sighed. "I shall explain presently."
"Where is the dragon?"
Very likely in the stable killing your brother, I realized. "You shall be safe enough here," I said, and leaped for the door.
I found Tristan unharmed, thank heaven, or at least living; his leg was bleeding, and a bruise had bloomed across his cheek and eye.
"I demand an explanation," he said, breathless as I helped prop his back against the wall. "Where is Owain?"
"In the kitchen," I said. "Where he will stay until I can figure out this predicament."
"However did you persuade him to that?"
"Er," I said, and Tristan began cursing. "I had to tie him up! Tristan, surely you can understand—"
"I understand that this irrational protectiveness of your accursed dragon is driving you to ever greater lengths of absurdity! In truth, I begin to wonder if you are not enspelled!"
"Oh, that is ridiculous."
"More ridiculous than a captive turning against her rescuers for the sake of her captor?"
"I would like to point out that Braith could have taken advantage of my distraction to kill you anytime this half-hour."
Tristan's grin was fierce and toothy. "Bring him hither and I will thank him."
I snorted and touched gentle fingers to the bruise on his face. "Some comfrey will aid this."
"Truly, Ariana, how do you think this will end? Do you propose to keep us all here forever?"
"No." I sat back and rubbed my eyes wearily. "There must be some way, if I can only sit still long enough to think..."
"There is but one way, beloved—kill the dragon. For your sake, I would do it quickly and without pain—I could take him sleeping—"
"No!" I stood, brushing off the hands that tried to clasp mine, and turned for the door. "I will see about that comfrey."
Before I was halfway to the tower door, a bright blue light came whirling about my head, accompanied by sounds of great agitation.
"Elaysius, Elaysius, stop, I cannot understand you! Here, speak slowly." I captured him in my hands and held him still.
"I bring thy betrothed," Elaysius said. "And still thou protectest the dragon. Still we are trapped."
"So this was not a misunderstanding, but disobedience on your part? Elaysius!" Beside myself with frustration, I rattled the fairy like dice in my hand. Elaysius cried out in pain; ashamed of myself, I released him, and vented my anger in a less-destructive scream toward the heavens. "Elaysius, how could you do such a thing? I cannot simply let them kill Braith! He has done nothing to deserve it."
"Would he defend thee so valiantly, I wonder, were the tables turned?"
"That is irrelevant."
"I do not consider it so."
"And when it is your own decision to make, feel free to make it as you wish. But this matter concerns my own life and my own honor. Six poxes on your opinion of how I should proceed, and Braith's opinion too!"
"Thou art, of course, correct." Elaysius's shoulders sagged. He fluttered up to my shoulder, where he buried his face despondently in his knees. "I was disobedient to a lady I vowed to serve, after agreeing to carry out her instructions. I thought I was doing what was best, but now I am ashamed, seeing the pain and trouble I have caused thee. I am so ve
ry sorry, my lady."
I let out a slow breath, trying to let my anger drain away. "No more of this, Elaysius."
"Never, I swear. I see now that thou art correct. We must find and defeat Braith's master. Whoever and wherever he is."
I gave a long sigh and resumed my walk to the tower. "By all means, let me know when you develop a plan."
I entered the tower to find Braith ensconced in Rindargeth's chair by the hearth.
"Excellent work in hiding yourself," I said.
"Consider it a compromise. Where is our new guest?"
"Trussed like a goose in the kitchen."
Braith burst into laughter entirely disproportionate, I thought, to the humorousness of the situation. The motion clearly pained his chest and he pressed a hand to it, but continued laughing.
"Someday you must tell me," he gasped at last, "exactly how this came to pass. At the moment the truth would only interfere with the beauty of my imaginings."
"Genevieve," I said to my companion, who had come anxiously to my elbow, "you will find Prince Tristan in the stable. Take a comfrey poultice for his face and make him comfortable, but do not give him back his crutch, nor allow him to leave. Block the door behind you when you depart."
"Are we to switch places, then?" Braith asked. "He in the stable, I in the tower?"
"I have not decided," I said wearily. "But his brother cannot stay in the kitchen for long. We must have the use of it. I think it will be easier to lock them both in the stable, than try to confine them both to the tower. For tonight, at least."
"His brother?"
"Oh, yes, I forgot you did not know. Our new arrival is Prince Owain of Dewgent, Tristan's elder half-brother."
"I see," Braith murmured. "And this is who you sent your fairy to fetch."
"I… More or less, I suppose."
"Yet now they are here, you truss them in kitchens and lock them in stables. I confess I am confused, princess."
"I did not expect them to be so intractable! That is, Tristan is intractable. It is too soon to say, for Owain."
"Oh, he will be no better."
"I had thought to summon help, yes, but help in finding and defeating the true enemy, your master! I could not know that Tristan has nursed such a hatred of dragons all these years. Perhaps Owain will be more sensible."
"You summoned these princes," Braith murmured, in something like bleak amusement, "for aid in defeating my ma—alleged master. How lovely a thought."
"Truly, Braith, perhaps we still can persuade them so! If we can convince Owain, his opinion will hold some weight with his brother—"
Braith only laughed again. "Do let me know how your efforts proceed."
"It might help, you know, if you would hold non-violent discourse with them yourself, so that they are not taking my word only—"
"No! I will not speak with them. Either of them."
I eyed him aslant, for he had spoken to Tristan forthrightly enough, if unpleasantly. Yet his manner now spoke as much of fear as anger.
"I will not let them harm you, Braith," I said. "You have my word."
"I can take care of myself, princess. I need no human to defend me." Yet the words were said without heat, and he did seem to relax somewhat.
I claimed the chair beside him, and we both stared pensively into the cold fireplace, Braith puffing a bit of smoke every few breaths.
"Braith, is there nothing at all you can say that might help us find your master?"
"You know that I cannot even say I have a master."
"But perhaps there are… facts you can mention. Mere facts, after all, without context, may indicate nothing at all."
His brow furrowed. "I… I will think on it."
"Do. While you are thinking, I must shift our latest prince out of the kitchen, that we may prepare dinner."
I fetched Gareth from the field and had him attend me, in case Owain was disposed to struggle, and was glad of it when I entered the kitchen to find him wormed halfway out of his bonds. Well, my knot-work was rudimentary, at best.
"Traitorous maid, release me!" Owain shouted on seeing me, red and puffing with his struggles.
"I cannot release you entirely, but I will take you to your brother, if you will cooperate." I knelt to untie his legs, though not his hands, and with Gareth's help lifted him to his feet.
"What is the meaning of all this, Ariana?" Owain demanded. "I would have an explanation of your actions!"
"In brief, then—the dragon who keeps me captive here does not do so by his own will. It is his master who is our enemy; the dragon himself seems to be a nearly decent sort. I will not, therefore, see him harmed, be you brother, betrothed, or dearest friend. Do you understand this?"
He gaped at me for several seconds before speaking.
"What do you know of this master?" he asked at last.
"Nothing. The dragon cannot speak of him. I know of his existence only through reasonable inferences and things left curiously unsaid. I have had considerable time to look into the matter; I hope you know my wits well enough to trust my conclusions."
"I… well… I would speak to this dragon, before committing myself to an opinion."
"Reasonable enough." I bit my lip. "I will prevail upon him to see you. He is fearful, as you may expect, of those intent on killing him. For the moment, come this way and be reunited with your brother."
We escorted him to the stable, where Genevieve was still doctoring Tristan.
"Brother!" Tristan cried in relief. "You are unhurt?"
"Bruised only," Owain said dryly. "You are considerably worse, I perceive, and yet this is a sight better than I feared when you did not return."
Tristan flushed. "I suppose I must apologize for sneaking off."
"Indeed you must, and look where it has got us!"
"I am sorry, Owain. Yet I do not know that we would have fared better together, with Ariana's... intervention."
During this conversation, I poked my way through the piles of oddments in the corner, and pulled forth the lengths of chain I had discussed with Tristan.
"What do you intend to do with that?" Owain asked now, warily.
"Gareth, do remove Prince Owain's armor. He will be more comfortable."
"You aim to chain me now?" he cried.
"The two of you will stay in the stable tonight. Perhaps in the morning we will switch you out, but for tonight it is easiest to keep you where you are. I am not blind to the fact that this building has windows. I believe I can depend upon Tristan's broken leg to keep him stationary; you are a different matter. Why do you simply stand there? You will regret not removing that armor when you had a chance."
Fuming, Owain turned, lifted his tied hands, and otherwise moved to facilitate the removal of his armor, which I had Gareth stack against the wall.
It was the work of several minutes to affix a chain to the wall at one end, and around Owain's waist with the other. The result was awkward and I had no doubt Owain could win free of it, eventually. I could only pray it would take him longer than one night.
"We will send food when it is ready." I knelt by Tristan to check his wounds. "The swelling on your face is somewhat better. How fares your leg?"
"Poorly," he said, with wry cheer, and flinched when I touched it.
"Braith should not have knocked you down," I murmured.
"I am relieved to hear you say something unfavorable about the bloody dragon."
I blinked. "Believe me, I have said many unfavorable things to his face. He is frequently an unpleasant man."
"Dragon."
"What?"
"He is not a man. He is a dragon."
"An unpleasant being, then." Strangely embarrassed, I turned to go. "Genevieve, Gareth, come along. We've things to do."
I closed and locked the stable doors, sent Genevieve to begin our supper, and turned to see Gareth grinning as Owain's horse snuffled his hair.
"Ah, yes, another horse, as well," I murmured, turning to pat the new arrival. He was a
handsome creature, strong and glossy white, though burdened with an immensely silly amount of jeweled and scroll-worked armor. I helped Gareth remove the heavy things, which made the horse frisk and dance about the field. The other horses snorted and moved away. Clever Winifred gave me a look of nearly human annoyance.
"I must agree," I said. "It is getting entirely too crowded here."
I joined Genevieve in the kitchen, where we reluctantly sacrificed a pair of chickens for dinner. Braith needed a meat-heavy diet, especially when injured, and ironically we were accustomed to depending on our dragon to fetch meat. I hoped that he was well enough to hunt for himself very soon. We did not have an endless supply of chickens.
Our evening meal was quiet and tense—though since Genevieve was always quiet, Gareth was never tense, and Elaysius would not come down from the rafters, it was presumably Braith and I who set that tone. It was pleasant enough to have no one arguing, at least, and I was heartened by the strength of Braith's appetite. Though his wound still pained him—he winced regularly—he seemed to be moving easier. With the difficulty of scales removed in human form, dragons healed faster than humans; Braith would be back to full strength long before Tristan could walk. It was an uneasy thought, for I could protect Braith from a human considerably easier than I could protect a human from Braith.
"Will you be reading to us after dinner?" Braith asked, in an indifferent tone.
"Read! Read!" Gareth seconded.
"Yes, very well," I said.
When we were gathered at the hearth, however, I did not open a book, but recounted the tale of King Danvael Dragon-friend, as near as I could remember it from childhood. How a mere squire had won the allegiance of the Red Dragon, who then defended Danvael's village when it came under attack by raiders—and not merely defended, but brought the war to the raiders, and by the time he was a grown man, Danvael was King of what had been the borderlands, now his own kingdom of Gwynhafod.
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