The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (35 page)

“You can’t kill off children.” She followed him out into the courtyard feeling very helpless. His stride was large and he didn’t slow to speak with her.

“Then I’ll send them to a neighboring village. I’ll let another lord raise them. But I want them out of here.”

“What about their mother?”

He stopped and she just about crashed into him. He had an irritated look in his eye.

“The woman cannot be trusted.”

“She is a woman!”

“I know that, Brynn. But what if I put her to work in the kitchens? Can you guarantee she won’t come after me - or after you with a knife?”

“So put her to work in the alehouse.”

“So she can poison my drink? I think not.”

“Then send her away with her children.”

“She’ll teach them to hate me, and probably raise them as warriors to come back and kill me. In the meantime, she’ll most likely start enough trouble with gossip that there’ll be another conspiracy against me in a fortnight. I just can’t take the chance.”

“Killing is not the answer.”

“Then tell me what is, Brynn. Leaving them there to rot? I don’t need to feed those who wish to cut out my heart. I’d rather spend the coin on those who are willing to protect me.”

“Spoken like a true warrior.”

“Egads, woman! What do you want from me?” The sky clouded over as well as his disposition, and Brynn looked up to the sky in thought, shivering in the cool, sudden breeze.

“Ever notice how your mood seems to control the weather?” she asked, glancing up toward the sky.

“I don’t have time for nonsense. I have to find out who else in my castle is out to kill me.” He made his way to the mews.

“Our castle,” she corrected him. “And it’s not nonsense. When you were unconscious, and the last week while you were happy, the sun never stopped shining. Now that you’re upset, the sky is overcast. When you’re really angry, we have a storm. Then Dracus comes.”

“Why did you say that?” He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her closer. “Why did you mention my father in the same breath as me?”

“I didn’t mention your father. I mentioned Dracus.”

“Dracus
is
my father. He’s one and the same.”

“I’m not convinced. I saw your father turn into a dragon. A red dragon. Not Dracus.”

“What are you talking about? That silly dream of yours again?”

“Nay, Drake. I’m talking about last week when I went out to gather herbs while you did not wake. The same day I saw your mother.”

“You lie. My mother is dead.” He stormed off to the mews and ducked to enter through the low door to the building that housed the birds.

“She came to me, Drake,” she said, following him inside. “She came to Asad also. Just ask him.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“She warned Asad that your father had me trapped under the water. If it wasn’t for her, I’d never have come back, I’m sure.”

“Brynn, is this true?”

“It is, my lord. You wouldn’t let me speak of your father, or I would have told you sooner.” Brynn eyed her falcon sitting alone on the stoop. He looked hungry and gaunt. She ran a finger over her pet’s head. The bird looked wearisome, and Brynn knew they needed to train someone soon to care for the birds, now that the falconer and Calais were both gone. With no one caring for the birds, they would die.

“We need to talk, Brynn.”

“I know.”

Drake clenched his fists and looked toward the pile of hay on the far side of the mews.

“Not here,” he said, and Brynn knew it brought back memories of the first time they’d coupled in their etheric forms.

“In the solar?” she suggested.

“Nay. I don’t trust anyone anymore. We need to go somewhere outside the castle.”

“I agree. But first I’d like to tend to Feathers. All the birds are hungry and in great need of care.”

“Let me find someone to care for the birds and I’ll meet you in the stable at midday.”

“Where will we go, my lord?”

“I’ll have Asad saddle a horse for you. We’re going on a little trip to the seashore.”

Chapter 27

“I’ve found a boy who’s the woodward’s son to care for the falcons, my lord,” said Asad, saddling a horse for Brynn while Drake paced back and forth in the stable waiting for her.

“Good, good,” he mumbled, not at all interested in the details.

“We are short two guards on the battlement and one sentry at the barbican now that the traitors have been imprisoned. Not to mention, you’ve lost two of your best knights.”

“Blast it, Asad, I know all this. If there isn’t anything you can say that isn’t redundant jibber, than do not speak at all.”

“Aye, my lord. I was only trying to make conversation.” Asad finished with the saddle and held up a saddle bag. “Will you be wanting supplies, my lord? Is this to be an overnight trip?”

“Nay. ’Tis only going to be more irritating conversation. Jibbering nonsense that won’t make any sense anyway.”

“My pardons, Lord Dunsbard, but I’m not quite sure of what you speak.”

“I’m going to the seashore with Brynn. We’re going to talk.”

“Ah.” He picked up a brush and ran it over the horse’s thigh.

“Is that all you have to say?” Drake stopped pacing and watched him. He waited for more questions but they didn’t come.

“As you suggested, my lord, I’ll not bother you with idle chatter, redundant jibber or irritating conversation.”

“Aren’t you going to ask of what we’ll be speaking?”

“Nay.” He busied himself with the horse. “I’m sure I know ’tis about the dragon that almost brought Brynn to her death in the pool at the cave.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before, Asad?”

“You were preoccupied, my lord. For a whole week you’d asked not to be disturbed, if I may remind you. Besides, I was sure Brynn would have mentioned it to you anon.”

“Yes, well,” Drake cleared his throat. “I suppose she would have if I had let her.”

“I am ready,” called Brynn in a singsong voice, strolling into the stables with a basket on her arm.

“What is in the basket?” Drake grumbled.

“Fruit, bread and cheese,” she said proudly.

“I didn’t instruct the cook to fix such a thing.”

“Nay, you didn’t. I packed it myself. I thought it would be a good chance to spend a little romantic time together. After all, my husband, you did say we’re going to the seashore.”

“Yes, but I hadn’t even considered that you’d think of Lornoon as a romantic spot.”

“Lornoon?” both Asad and Brynn asked together.

“That’s correct.” Drake hoisted himself atop his horse. “So, I’d suggest leaving the food here. Unless you plan on giving it to Dracus.”

“I didn’t know we’re going to Lornoon. Why is that, my lord?” Brynn looked up to him with wide eyes.

“What better place to talk about my father than the dragon’s lair?”

“I’m not going.” Brynn sat down on a wooden stool.

“You’d best have Asad help you to your horse before I decide to leave without you.”

“Without me?” she said, getting to her feet. “I thought we were going to talk. How would you do that without me?”

“I’m sure I’d find conversation with someone. Be it the animals that roam through the hills, or even Dracus himself.”

“You are jesting!” He watched Brynn shove the basket at Asad and climb atop the horse by herself. “You are not going anywhere near the dragon without me.”

Drake chuckled, and directed Gollimer out of the stable. “Then come, wife. Our guest awaits us.”

* * *

Brynn felt very uncomfortable riding back to the place she’d almost found her demise. As if it wasn’t bad enough, Drake led her directly up to the cliff that still held the sacrificial stake. She shuddered, watching the way the ropes that once bound her there swayed lonely in the breeze. Blood stained the rocks below the post from the many virgins whose lives were taken trying to stop the dragon from coming again.

“I don’t like this,” she said, slowing her horse to a stop.

Drake jumped off Gollimer and looked out over the sea.

“I didn’t figure you would.”

“Then why bring me here in the first place? Is this some sort of an ill jest?”

“Nay, my lady, ’tis not.” Drake sat down on the cliff and dangled his feet over the edge. Brynn gasped, knowing the steep drop to the sea directly below. “Come join me, Brynn.”

She suddenly felt apprehensive and ill thoughts filled her head from fear. Would he have brought her here to throw her over the cliff or possibly feed her to Dracus?

“I’m not going to harm you,” he answered as if he knew her thoughts. “I seem to think well while watching the sea. Something about the water has always stirred my emotions.”

Brynn carefully dismounted and tied her horse to a nearby bush. She made her way to Drake, but sat back from the edge of the cliff - not where she could see the drop to the water below.

“I want you to tell me about my father.”

She could see it wasn’t easy for Drake to bring up the subject. He had ignored the situation for so long, and now she knew it was because it brought too many ill memories to the surface.

“I think I should tell you about your mother first.”

He nodded, looking out to the water. “I’d like that.”

Brynn settled in next to him, but away from the edge. “She was gentle and caring. Her words were as soft as her snowy white skin and long ebony hair.”

“That sounds like her.” He picked up a handful of stones and tossed them one at a time over the cliff into the water.

“She said something about not being able to do something. That I still had the chance, though. I didn’t understand.”

“Throughout my childhood, she always gave me hope. Hope that I wouldn’t turn out like my father.”

“She said you were not all you seemed. That every black night has a spark of light. If I found that, I’d be able to save you.”

“Save me?” He laughed. “Save me from what? The destiny that awaits my black soul was meant for me, Brynn. If I die fighting Dracus, then I’ve at least done one noble thing in my life. It’ll be worth the effort.”

“Nay. Don’t say that.” Brynn reached out and grabbed Drake’s hand. He gave her hand a squeeze in return.

“Don’t fret for me when I’m gone, Brynn. I never deserved someone as wonderful as you.”

“Why do you sound as if you’re saying good-bye?”

“Mayhap I am in a way. I have every intention of stirring up a dragon while I’m here. This time, I plan on killing the damned thing.”

“Nay, Drake. You can’t kill the dragon. Your father warned me that a sword wouldn’t work. No weapon would. The old man says the same thing.”

“That sounds like something that addlepated old man would say. And if my father told you I shouldn’t use weapons, then that’s just what I’ll do. He obviously is trying to trick me.”

“I don’t think so, Drake. I think there’s another way to slay a dragon, besides to kill it with weapons.”

“You’re starting to sound like that old man,” he said. “The only way to stop the dragon is to kill it. I’ll kill my father for taking my mother’s life.”

“Then you’ll do it without me. I’ll not stay and watch as you’re devoured by the beast.”

“As you wish.” Drake stood, helping her to her feet also. “I’ll take you back to Thorndale Castle and return without you.”

Brynn needed time to think. She needed time to stop Drake from his death wish. She needed help.

“At least allow me one more night with you, my husband, before you so foolishly throw away your life. Come back to the castle with me and let us spend the night together. Please.”

“All right,” he agreed. “I suppose one more day won’t matter. I’ll come back right after the executions in the morning.”

Brynn cringed when she’d heard that. She’d saved one man’s life for another day, but in the process doomed the lives of dozens. They mounted their horses and headed back to Thorndale Castle. She had one last night to think of a way to save the prisoners, as well as Drake.

Brynn paced the floor of the bedchamber, waiting for Juturna. She’d sent for the old seer, hoping the woman could give her some insight of what to do. Drake would be here soon to spend the night with her, and then by the morning it would all be over.

A knock at the door sent Brynn running. She threw it open, and scanned the corridor before pulling the seer inside. Once the door was closed, she bolted it and hauled the woman over to sit on the bed.

“What is it, Lady Brynn?” she asked. “Is something amiss?”

“Aye.” Brynn sat down and grabbed the old woman’s hands. “Drake is going to confront the dragon tomorrow. He’s convinced he has to slay it. He thinks it is his father, and his personal vendetta is getting in the way of his proper judgment and common sense.”