The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (10 page)

Asad stood at the front dais with the priest, a disturbed look crossing both the men’s faces when they saw her. Drake’s knights, all donned in their polished armor, swords and shields at their sides, lined the aisle forming a canopy with their swords for her to walk under. She was being treated with the utmost respect. Something she hadn’t counted on at all.

She looked back to her handmaiden who should have been helping her, but Birdie waited outside the door, shaking her head, begging with her eyes not to have to enter.

“I don’t want to be in the same room as
The Dragon
when he loses his temper. Please don’t let him hurt me.”

“No one is going to hurt you, Birdie. But if you’d feel better, why don’t you go down to the kitchens and wait for the feast to begin.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Without hesitation, she scurried away through the hall. The guards stood at attention, one holding each door, waiting for Brynn to enter. She was the only woman here, and not happy about it. She entered the knight-lined aisle, walking to the altar, looking for Drake in his dirty, worn clothes.

Asad took her hand as she approached, leaving her standing in front of the priest. The music stopped and she looked around, but didn’t see Drake anywhere.

Then, the whinny of a horse caught her attention and she turned around quickly. A knight in full armor, helm visor down, sword at his side, shield in his hand, sat majestically high upon his steed. His long red cloak hung off his shoulders and down the sides of his mount. The horse’s tack was elaborate. Bells jangled as it walked, colored strips of taffeta and leather hung in fringes down its side. Even the horse’s head, back, and neck, were covered with red and black crinet and flanchard, all boasting the dragon crest.

Brynn was surprised to see the horse in the chapel, and slightly amused. The knight had to duck when he entered through the doorway, so the tall metal dragon atop his helm and red and black plume would fit through. The horse clopped down the aisle to the altar, the man sitting high and proud as every eye watched him. The dragon crest emblazed upon his gambeson almost seemed to come to life, announcing the groom as he came forward.

Drake’s bold act of riding his horse into the chapel intimidated her, but made him look even more powerful.

The Dragon
continued down the aisle, and every man there bowed his head in reverence. He dismounted at the altar and handed the reins to Asad, who stilled the horse. He pulled off his helm, dark eyes watching her as intently as everyone was watching him. His long, dark hair spilled down to his shoulders making him look most handsome in his battle attire.

“My lord?” Her lip trembled slightly as she forced a smile and nodded her head in acknowledgment.

Asad handed the horse’s reins to the steward, and stepped forward, taking the helm and shield from his lord. Setting them upon the bench, he helped Drake remove his metal gauntlets.

Drake smelled fresh, clean, and she could see he’d recently shaved. His hair glowed with a raven’s purple cast, and she could see fresh clothes peeking out from beneath the armor. She suddenly felt very out of place in her mourning dress and black veil. She looked down to her dead flowers and couldn’t help but notice her hands trembling.

“Are you ready for the ceremony to begin, my lord?” asked the priest with a catch to his voice. He held his book open to the proper page, looking like he wanted this to be over just as much as she did.

“No,” answered Drake, never taking his eyes off her as he spoke. He pried the flowers from her hands and threw them across the room. She jumped in alarm and backed away.

“What is the meaning of this attire?” 

Lightning flashed through the stained-glass window behind the altar and the rumble of thunder echoed the boom of his voice.

“I believe we’re getting married,” she remarked coolly.

“You look as if you’re going to a funeral.”

“Is there a difference? Weddings, funerals, they’re the same to me just as witches and faeries are to you.”

“I’ll not have you ruin my wedding day.”

“Haven’t you already ruined mine?”

“I dressed for battle as you suggested my lady, but I didn’t think the battle would come so soon.”

“You did not think I’d actually come adorned, did you?  This ceremony is naught more than a convenience, just like the way you laid siege to my father’s castle, just because you could.”

“Remove the veil,” he said softly, but she did nothing to abide by his word.

He reached over and took the headpiece from her hair, throwing it across the room. She met his challenge defiantly, pushing back a lock of hair that had come loose from its bindings.

“Is that what you think?” he asked lowly. “That I stormed the castle because it suited my needs to do so?”

“I know your kind. You can’t say anything to make me think otherwise.”

“Then I’ll not try, shall I?” He looked at the priest and commanded, “On with the ceremony.”

He stilled her with a hand to her arm when she tried to walk away. And when it came time to say her vows, he made her speak loudly so everyone could hear, and there would be no question as to what transpired.

“You are a vile, ruthless man!” she spat. Her powers not honed when she angered, she once again sported fire. But this time it was to the Bible the priest held. The man shouted, and dropped it, backing away.

“The devil’s spawn,” shouted the priest. “She surely is a witch to set the Lord’s word afire.”

“I am not a witch,” she defied him, and this time the decorations on the seats started to burn. His men hurried to put out the small fires.

“Stop that!” Drake demanded. “You are ruining the ceremony.”

“I told you, I have no control over my power of fire when I anger. Every time I hear someone call me a witch, I lose my temper.”

“Well no wonder they call you a witch when you go around burning Bibles!”

“I didn’t do that on purpose.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he ground out. “Now let’s finish the ceremony before you burn the place to the ground.”

Thunder boomed again and rain came down in torrents outside. The men stirred uneasily, and the priest nervously took his place on the dais. “Do you have rings?” he asked Drake.

“Rings? No…I have no such thing.”

“No rings?” Brynn asked, more amused than amazed that he hadn’t thought of bringing any.

“Then, the ceremony is finished,” announced the priest. “May we all go in peace. You may now kiss the bride.”

Brynn’s stomach jolted at these words. Drake’s jaw twitched in aggravation, and she didn’t want him anywhere near her, let alone kissing her in front of a room full of men.

He took a step forward, his eyes burning, his body stiff. He reached out for her, but stopped when a guard called from the door.

“’Tis Dracus, milord. The dragon has risen from the sea and is headed for the castle.”

“Damnation, not now!” Drake turned and jumped onto his horse. His squire handed him his shield quickly.

“Shall I alert the men to arm themselves?” asked Asad.

“Nay. I’ll handle this on my own.”

“But my lord, the dragon is fierce. You cannot possibly fight him off by yourself. Even donned in armor, you will be burned to a crisp if the dragon uses his fiery breath upon you.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “That is why my wife will ride with me. To protect me from the dragon’s fire with a wall of fire of her own.”

“You cannot be serious,” shouted the priest. People ran in commotion, shouting in the corridor. “She’s a lady. She shouldn’t be exposed to such things.”

“A lady she may be,” said Drake, “but she’s also immune to the dragon’s fire. You saw it for yourself just now that fire is her ally.” He reached down for her and Brynn backed away.

“I would not go with you.”

“You are my wife, now. You agreed to help me once we were married. You will do as I say.” He scooped her up and threw her across his lap.

“I would not go.” She squirmed and kicked and tried to get free of his hold.

Asad handed Drake’s helm to him, but Brynn kicked it from his hands. It fell to the floor with a loud clank.

“Stop that!” Drake warned her. “If you fight me, you would have more to worry about than just the dragon.”

He took off at a gallop to find Dracus, and Brynn held onto him for dear

life.

Drake knew exactly where to find the dragon. He rode at full gallop to the little town of Lornoon on the coast. Brynn sat in front of him, holding on to his neck so tightly he almost choked.

“Slow down,” she screamed. Cold rain pelted down against them. “I am going to fall from the horse.”

He wrapped a protective arm around her, repositioning her to face forward in the saddle.

“I am holding you. You are not going to fall, though I have half a mind to throw you from the horse for the way you’re acting.”

He felt her hand gripping into his arm at his words. He liked the way it felt to have her need him. He never should have lost his temper at the wedding, but the girl challenged him every minute of the day.

“I see the dragon,” she screamed, pointing toward the sea.

Sure enough, Dracus reared its ugly head above the rocks. It swiped at the empty sacrificial post, looking for another virgin to consume. The people of Lornoon ran in chaos, trying to find a place to hide from the dragon’s fiery breath, inside a cave or behind a tree.

“Turn around,” she said as he directed the horse up toward the rock that held the sacrificial post. “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I should have done long ago.”

“No! Don’t bring me back. I do not want to be eaten by the dragon. Please take me back to the castle, my lord, and I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Whatever I ask?” he repeated. He almost laughed, realizing Brynn thought he was going to sacrifice her to the dragon. He never planned on doing that. He wasn’t that heartless of a man. He only wanted to stop the dragon and help the people of Lornoon. But since things seemed to be working so well in his favor, he didn’t correct her thoughts.

“All right. You win,” he said, trying to sound defeated. He put her down and pointed to the far side of the cliff. “Go there and wait. Do not try to run from me or I will not be so forgiving next time.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, wiping her wet locks from her eyes. The thunder continued and lightning lit up the dark sky. The rain came down like an archer’s cold arrows, stabbing into them one drop after another.

“I’ve got to stop the dragon.”

“You cannot do it alone.”

“Are you offering to help?”

Her eyes opened wide but she didn’t answer. She just shook her head in horror of the suggestion.

“That’s what I thought. Now do as I say.”

He directed Gollimer forward, prodding him to go once more up to the cliff where the dragon fed. The horse was skittish and he couldn’t blame it. The dragon looked angrier than he had ever seen it before.

Dracus dominated the sky, greenish-gray wings spread like sails, billowing in the wind. Spikes, sharp and straight, graced the edges of its wings. Its head looked like a serpent, its neck long and smooth. His underside was covered with large, crusty scales as well as his back, and long, slashing tail. Dracus searched the hills, diving and swooping, sharp talons reaching out for fleeing victims, though they had escaped his attempts. The dragon’s eyes blazed red, and smoke billowed from its nostrils. Two hairy horns sprouted from its head like seedlings growing from a crack in the dry earth.

Drake raised his sword to Dracus, gaining its attention. The dragon redirected his attack, coming now for him.

“Come get me, you bastard!” shouted Drake. “You have hurt others for the last time. I would kill you, if it’s the last thing I do.”

His horse reared up and the dragon swept a nasty talon toward him. He bounded out of the way, managing to slice the dragon’s claw with his sword. Lightning struck his sword, throwing him from the horse, but he managed to land on his feet. Gollimer went one way and his sword went the other. His arm was momentarily stunned from the jolt and he couldn’t even make a fist. The dragon came for him, and with one hand useless from the lightning blow, he prepared to fight him.

“Take me!” he called to the dragon. “If ’tis blood you want, take mine and be done with the people of Lornoon and innocent virgins.”

With his left hand he grabbed for his dagger in his boot, never planning on being the dragon’s dinner, only a lure. He may be wounded and without proper weapons, but his anger for Dracus alone should have been enough to kill the beast. He would fight him with his bare hands if need be. He would kill this dragon, no matter what it took.

Smoke came from the dragon’s nose and its beady eyes bore fire as it flew in a circle above Drake before swooping down toward him with open jaws. Drake steadied his dagger, wishing for a lance. He had one chance to strike the beast. One swift throw to its heart and he might be able to kill it - if it didn’t kill him first. Without his helm to protect him from the dragon’s flame, he could only hope his aim was true and he could strike Dracus before the beast engulfed him in fire.