A Witch's Word

INVITATION ONLY

Lou ran through the cobbled streets, carrying bunches of herbs that had been gifted to his princess as she continued to speak to the friends she had made amongst the traders. The early signs of spring were emerging and the eagerness to see the yield from all they had planted caused a hum of excitement. Most had gifted their first sprig to the princess they adored, in thanks for her care and attention. Unusually, the birds were conversing back and forth. Lou had never known the birds, who were afraid of dragons, to linger for so long, but he ascribed the peculiarity to Edith. They seemed to have arrived when she did, and he felt they would stay as long as she did too. Even more strangely, was the heartfelt welcome that the guards at the gate greeted her with as they crossed the threshold back to the palace. As her silent servant, he had informed her of the discord between Lizzip and Prince Cadmus, but she had merely smiled, claiming it made little difference to her.

Hunger chased them into the great hall. Nokon had an important gathering with Prince Madoc, who was asking for aid after King Barrett had cut the rations he sent to his principality to an inhumane amount. She knew Mother Maggie would help as much as she was able, but Barrett the Bastard was becoming dangerously unpredictable and the desire for peace made everyone cautious.

Choosing to indulge in the brief stillness of the usually hectic hall, Lou and Edith ate the soup from the stove, sprinkling the herbs onto their meal.

“May I join you?”

Cadmus had been watching them for a while from the doorway. Immediately, Lou rose to serve the prince, but Edith stilled his hand.

“You may, if you serve yourself, Prince Cadmus,” she declared, partly hoping he would refuse.

Bemused by her condition, he sat in the seat next to her. Slurping his meal slowly as he pondered about anything to say to her that she couldn’t reduce to a one-worded answer.

“Your mother briefly joined us.” He began judging her reaction. “She did not seek you out?”

Her laugh filled the empty hall, before she suppressed her initial reaction.

“You do realise, she isn’t my real mother?” She asked, but the perplexed look on Cadmus’ face revealed the answer.

“We are born and then sent to tutors before our memories can form. We are taught how to use our power by tutors. But they judged our abilities too. When I was younger, Mother Maggie had just been elected as our leader, after our previous Mother had been killed by your father. I was selected by Maggie to be her daughter. She is responsible for nurturing my power, developing me as the next mother. At least that was the plan before our marriage. Therefore, she would not visit me as a mother would, so I am not surprised that she did not seek me out. She will be putting all her energy into my sister, Tabitha, now.”

Cadmus’ frowned in a cross between sympathy and confusion. He could understand the absence of a mother. He had been without his own for much of his life. His own father was dedicated to training his heir more than loving his son. This was the nature of leaders, but still, he knew who his parents were, where his heritage came from, the line he was born into. This was something that his wife had been denied. All she hated about him and his family was the legacy of a woman with her own agenda; he had never looked at Mother Maggie with such a critical eye before.

When the meal was finished, Lou took their bowls away before making an equally swift exit. Disappointed by their brief meal and his own inability to break down the walls between them, Cadmus extended his hand, hoping that she would follow him. Edith was equally surprised when she allowed him to take her deeper into the belly of the palace.

“This is our life cycle. The paintings have been here longer than man, which is to say they were given to us by the goddess. When we are born, a dragon will nest and lay an egg. This is the first sign that the child is worthy to be a rider.”

He indicated the image of the white dragon curled around herself protecting her eggs vigilantly. The next image was of the back of a toddler, reaching out to touch the egg.

“If the egg cracks when the child touches it, then this is the second sign that he will be a worthy rider. If not, the egg will be sold, and the child will never ride or have a connection to any dragon. Only when the dragon and child look at each other is an everlasting bond made. One that cannot be broken by death or magic.”

Edith nodded, agreeing with his explanation. Dragons came from old magic and were wiser than the earth and skies, but a reason they could be particularly problematic to witches was their resistance to most power.

“Dex and I were raised together from my third birthday to my thirteenth birthday. In that time, we learnt to link our minds and souls.”

Gently, he nudged her further along the corridors and artwork of the life cycle. The image was centered around a single scale. Carefully, Cadmus took his wife’s fingers and ran them over his chest. She traced the outline of a scale just below his skin.

“A scale freely given by the dragon and lovingly accepted by the rider,” Cadmus explains to her.

“This is how you share Dex’s speed, durability and strength?” She asked, unable to remove her eyes from the hardened scales beneath his skin.

Cadmus nodded. However, his thoughts strayed to his sister. Who had cracked her egg but had been stolen from them before her ceremony. His father had promised the kingdom, that when she was found, the bonding ceremony to her dragon, Allez, would be their priority.

“What happens if either of you die?” Edith asked, disturbing him from his guilt.

“Dragons aren’t immortal. They die over thousands of years. If I should die, Dex would mourn me, but he may find another rider in that time. If Dex should die, I would survive, but I would never be given another dragon. It is the greatest shame in our land to survive our dragons.”

Edith contemplated the promise she made to Dex. She had told him she would find a dragon for him to love. She hadn’t realised that to do so she would have to convince a dragon to transfer the love they had for their previous rider to her when she was unable to become a rider, having missed out on the process of bonding with a dragon. The task seemed more overwhelming than ever before. Once they had walked back to the great hall, she bid her husband farewell. Privately, she acknowledged that for once she had enjoyed the company of Cadmus. The glow of the garden was still in the brightest shades of orange, but Edith had noticed that for ten minutes each evening the nostalgic shades of pink would soften the harsh sky and remind her of home, and of the meadow where she and her sister would share their secrets.

“I have spent a lovely afternoon with our queen. Invitation only, of course, but I’m sure yours will be coming soon. We had such a lovely conversation about all that is happening in the realm. It was on my way down from the Eastern wing that I noticed you, Princess Edith.” Lizzip sat next to her on the bench and leant into her space.

“Such a comfort you must be, Lizzip, however I was enjoying an afternoon with my husband. You remember what that used to be like, don’t you?” Edith replied.

She watched as the mask of friendliness trans morphed into one of seething anger. It mattered little to Edith; she had already begun to walk towards her room. She made a note to thank Lou for his keen ears and interest in court gossip.