Engaging The Dragon

Chapter 4

Tevron glared at the profile of his sister-in-law outlined by the flickering flames in the foyer of the Great Hall. Tevron"s half- brother, Stannock, was second in command of the army that fought in northwestern Gracklen, their country, a war with the invading Trolls and colorful Picts far beyond the borders of the King"s castle and the crippled King himself.

“My brother is a brave man and foolish, as brave men are, more heart than brains,” Tevron muttered to his servant. He continued to cast glances at the slim young woman beyond the courtyard as a plan took shape in his hot brain. He wore tight black trousers and a silver coat, open at the chest, where dark hairs curled luxuriously about a metallic swastika icon on a sturdy chain. The servant Paige stood next to him, a willowy wraith by an oak tree, the servant"s adolescent body still unformed and gangly, hair blond and curly, grey eyes fixed on his master.

Almere was not aware when Tevron stopped his scrutiny and turned his back on the palace. His own living quarters were humbler and this irked his molten soul – he, the son allowed to live, of a former king murdered by his rival, the still young King Hakor. He was only half-brother to Stannock, who was the favored son and sole male legitimate heir.

Tevron bent and picked up a sizable red stone, muttered an incantation over it, and pitched it at a flickering window slit of the palace. His mother had begged King Hakor for Tevron"s life and he had granted it in exchange for silence about Malcoom"s death. That silence had cost her dearly through the years, for she had loved Malcoom more than Hakor, and her knowledge might have been a means of controlling her second husband if it were not for her dark son and the need to protect him. For Ericaania was ambitious and thwarted in that ambition, and thus the long wild rides during the day, and the lovers, he thought.

“May it bring you a curse,” Tevron muttered as the stone took flight, and Paige beside him grinned. They heard the distant thud as the stone ricocheted off the portico and into the inner hall.

“I"m sure it will, sir. It will at least make her consider the source, for a moment, and perhaps fear.” The young man slapped his hand on his thigh. “Tis cold,” he complained. “I"ll draw you a hot bath and warm your sheets with hot bricks.”

“Damn you.” Tevron drew a flask from a pouch at the waistband of his tight black pants and drank deeply. He wiped his mouth with the back of a dirty fist and replaced the flask in the pouch.

“Sir?” Paige stood a head shorter than Tevron; he looked up to inquire of his master.

“Yes, a hot bath. And damn them all to Hades.”

“Sir?”

“The women control the old king, my father Malcoom"s rival. Why did Hakor let me live? A wolf would have destroyed his enemy"s children. He"s a weakling, and he"ll live to regret it.”

“The walls have ears,” Paige whispered in earnest.

“Yes, and it"s high treason I speak of, my words flow foolishly with anger and ale. We"ll see my brother dead and the old king put out of his misery before the winter"s on us, my brother"s young widow in my bed, and my mother banished. With her coterie of dragon shit.”

Paige led the way to the sumptuous rooms at the end of the portico. “They say the dragons are enchanted. They can talk, and they know the future.”

Tevron scratched his crotch. “They love fresh meat, gold, and their riders, but I"ll lure them away. I"ll have an army of my own, with my faithful followers and the Palace guards that even now hide in the shadows.” He threw aside the heavy curtains just inside his doorway.

Almere threw her cloak over her shoulder and strode into the women"s quarters where the maid Mariette had filled a large soaking tub with hot water, lavender, and soap. Thick white towels and rose-scented lotions lined a rack near the lip of the tub. Almere slipped off her riding trousers and rough crimson blouse, dropped her undergarments on the floor, and sank to her neck in the steaming liquid.

“Ahhhhh. Dragon"s breath, this is heaven.”

Her toes projected from the bubbles and she wiggled them, then began to cleanse herself with a hunk of creamy soap half again as large as her hand. She splashed scented water on her face and scrubbed off the oil and dirt from the long ride home on Fire-Smasher. Over mountains blue with snow and valleys hot with dust they had soared, scouring the land for signs of Trolls or painted Picts or perhaps for returning Gracklen warriors, defeated at last in battle. She saw no sign of her princely husband or his troop of men and women.

That"s a good omen. He must be all right; no imperial dragon was seen carrying my husband"s body home today or in the last four moon cycles.

She moved the soapy lather down her body to her firm young breasts and circled the pink rosebuds at the tips. Steam rose from her body and the tub enveloped her completely as she sank further into its watery womb, up to her chin. The soap slipped from her fingertips and she touched that private part which only three others had so far breached – the earnest young student in middle school, fumbling with her buttons in the classroom left empty and echoing of all but their hot young bodies, exploring, eager…his lips on her neck. She remembered their outraged teacher who discovered them when coming back for a forgotten book, their outraged parents when told, her father"s nod and knowing smile, the smack of her mother"s hand on her cheek – then the riding lessons and the handsome young instructor for a short, hot summer – then Stannock and consummation of a favored royal marriage for which she had saved her final virginity. As her fingers slipped into that secret place, probing, rubbing, a ragged breath tore through her body, the pubic hair curling beneath her hand. The tub steamed, the air hung grey with mist and desire, lavender and rose petals competed with the smell of musk. She glanced up and saw Mariette watching her from the doorway.

“It"s Tevron,” Mariette explained her interruption. “He has a message from the King for Prince Stannock"s commanding officer.”

How long has she been standing there?

Almere caught her breath and rose, dripping, from the tub. Mariette moved swiftly and pulled a thick white towel over the girl"s nakedness.

“You"ll catch your death of cold, honey.” Mariette"s voice sounded dry. “You want to be presentable enough to meet the Queen tonight. She called for you earlier.” Practiced hands moved the towel over Almere"s bare body. She was tempted to direct the maid"s hands to that secret place, but thought better of it, shrugged on a fuzzy robe, and looked around for her maids who would escort her to the Queen"s chambers.

Tevron appeared instead, as though he had been standing outside the door. His dark hair was wet and plastered back from his recently scrubbed face. Paige hovered in the background. Almere pulled back her square shoulders and suggested it was best not to disturb the Queen further that night. Her bath had taken longer than usual, and the Queen"s windows were dark.

“The King has given me a message for Stannock"s general, to be delivered tomorrow – at first dawn, we must follow the men"s march to the northwest and deliver it into the general"s hands and no other. Even I don"t know what"s in the message,” Tevron lied. Paige shuffled his feet and looked at the floor tiles.

“Paige will leave at sunrise with the message, and he"ll need a dragon.”

He would take Fire-Smasher, the immature red dragon, because they couldn"t spare another.

Almere"s legs trembled. The letter was sealed with the King"s gold wax, stamped with his royal ring, and no one in the kingdom except the general would dare to open it now.

Not even me.

As soon as Tevron strode away, with the message tucked into a pouch at his waist, she lowered herself onto the couch in the sitting room next to the women"s quarters. Pray God, is it good news? Is the King recalling my dear husband back to my loving arms?

“I"ll help you pack, Paige,” Tevron offered to his servant. “Be careful with the dragon. He"s untried with a male rider and a strong arm, other than that girl my brother married.”

“I"m an excellent rider, sir,” the servant replied. “The message will get through or I"ll die trying.”

Tevron pulled on his lip. “Just so.” He poured a glass of his best dark ale, holding it to his nostrils for a moment to savor the hoppy smell, then slapped his servant on the back. “I do hope no one has to…”

Paige folded a small riding blanket into his rucksack. “What"s that, sir?”

“…die trying,” Tevron finished. He smiled, showing many square white teeth, sharp in his tanned face, like a fighting dog.