Dragon Prince, page 2
CHAPTER TWO
KIERAN AND AIERAN winged toward their home in the mountains, high above the clouds which would have put them at risk for another snowstorm dragging them down below.
“You shouldn’t have let her go, she was a human.”
“A human we had no reason to fear,” Kieran growled. Of course, there were reasons to fear humans, but that particular human had been no danger to him. Despite the fact that he sported a swelling bump on his nose from where she had smacked him in the tender part with her staff. That he would remember for quite a while, long after the actual injury faded, but more than that, he would remember her eyes. Saffron colored eyes set in a lovely, if windburned face.
“You act as if you knew that human, they are no different no matter where we go,” Aieran complained. His clutchmate bored him with his talk of humans being nothing more than brutes and honestly, Kieran had heard enough of this particular confrontation.
“How is Nadia?”
“We got her home safely and it looks as if the membrane is knitting nicely,” Aieran said. He seemed to be glad for the change of conversation as well, his wings sweeping in larger arcs as they moved toward the home they shared together. Being the clutchmate of the prince did not make him any more important than the others, but it did give him a fair bit of pride in his position. It did for all of Kieran’s clutchmates. They weren’t exactly quiet about their proximity to the draconic crown. All things considered, Kieran would have given much not to have the crown resting nearly on his head, but their father had made it clear that he was going to be the crown prince and thus he needed to act like it.
He was likely to get an earful from allowing himself to be left behind. Of course, that didn’t really matter to Kieran, he would take his father’s tongue lashing with aplumb because he had done what was necessary to see the others had escaped. That might well get his father to not give him a tongue lashing. Or at least get his mother to intervene and allow him to go to his personal cave quietly.
Reaching the high cliffs above the gorge where they kept their nest, Kieran entered first with Aieran not far behind. The stone, cool as it was against his claws, did not bother him after being nearly encased in ice. The royal nesting place, where his parents would undoubtedly be resting, was off of the main hallway to one side and Kieran’s nest, his private cave, off to another. He turned immediately and headed for his private quarters, only to be stopped by the whistling sound of a summons from his father.
Kieran did not slump his shoulders. Instead he marched into his parents’ sleeping chamber with his head held high.
“You should have been the first to take to wing,” Aelerian began. The Dragon King towered over his son, his age affording him size few gained for centuries. Kieran would, one day perhaps, be so large, but for now he knew if his father decided to take to his claws against him, he would find himself hard pressed to fight him off with any hope. Of course, there was no reason to believe his father would take to his claws against him. Instead, it would be enough to let Kieran know that he could. For the moment though, the Prince stood in the presence of his father and then ducked his head.
“I was only thinking of making sure the others got away first,” he said. His tone was not meek, but it did show humility in his slightly ducked head. “I wanted to insure Nadia was taken care of before I allowed myself to get away.”
“You are my son,” Aelerian said, his s’s hissing from his throat in anger. “My first born son. My prince. The one who will succeed me. You are precious.”
“He knows that, Aelerian, but think,” came the much milder tone of Kieran’s mother, Ualira. “What would you have done faced with the same trouble? A human contingent comes upon you bathing a young one, certainly you would not have allowed yourself to take to wing first regardless of how important others thought you were.”
Kieran did not look at his mother who shared much of his coloration, but also did not turn his eyes fully on his father. Instead, he watched the polished floor of their space waiting for the dismissal which he knew had to be coming sometime soon. His father had to make his displeasure known, that much was without a doubt. But certainly, Kieran hoped, his father would allow a cooler head, his mother’s head, to prevail against the anger within him.
Aelerian snuffled his mate’s neck, an intimate gesture reserved only for mated pairs, and then let out a slow trill of smoke. “You are right. As was my son.”
“Let him be,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper beneath those vaulted ceilings. “He has had a long day, can you not see he is tired?”
Aelerian huffed, the last of his anger escaping as smoke. Then he turned to his son. “Go, rest. A hunting party will return with dinner soon enough.”
Kieran allowed himself a moment longer, before he ducked his head fully, and stalked out of the room, the tip of his tail twitching with suppressed emotion.
Saffron eyes.
He knew he would see them in his dreams. In his private cavern, he found his sleeping space undisturbed. Sometimes the children would come and play among the cushions of his bed, seeking to rile him up into stalking down and taking one of them on. Kieran knew better than to do so now since they were so much smaller than he was. Nadia was only a few summers younger and she was so much smaller than he had to be careful of his claws with her. She would be a beauty when she achieved her full size and cobalt blue coloration. Kieran knew there were others his size, but they were not the children of the royal pair. His parents called all the draconic kingdoms to rise to wing at their command. He was their son and his destiny was to wear the crown when it came time for his father to finally pass into the light. Kieran chuckled to himself. When his father went tail lashing and blowing smoke into the light was more like it. The shadow creatures which came for dragons when their time came would find themselves with quite a fight on their hands when it came the old dragon’s time. Kneading his way down into his pillows, he tried to let himself drift off, there would be a hunting party soon. They would bring back meat and other goods they had traded for. That would be good. Perhaps they would bring more pillows.
Kieran drifted off with the thoughts of pillows and saffron colored eyes.
Aeiran woke him up several hours later, whistling for him to come out. Though he could have just as easily entered the prince’s lair, his clutchmate, like many, knew better than to come upon another dragon sleeping. Sleeping was a sacred time when the body rested and the mind dreamed. To awaken someone unnecessarily and without warning could damage them. Therefore, no one was to enter into a sleeping dragon’s space. Aeiran had, mostly likely, entered into the cavern far enough to find out that Kieran was asleep and then withdrew to allow him to finish resting before whistling for him. That would have made the most sense. Kieran rose from his pillows and sat up to yawn, showing his teeth before blinking away the last of the sleep.
His dreams had been fragmented.
Snow.
Ice.
Saffron colored eyes stalking him.
Such a different feeling. He did not know her name and, most likely, it was ugly. Humans were dull and unimaginative creatures with names which made4 him bored when they were spoken about in the texts of his tutor, but there were those who thought them worthwhile. Unfortunately, they did not make good allies. They tended to want to do stupid things like try to kill the dragons which helped them, making them volatile at best.
Kieran knew better than to believe he had made some kind of connection with the human female, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her and the magic she commanded.
Of course, there were those humans who had a connection enough to the world that they could be able to use its magic, but they were rare. She seemed not only able but taught as though she had been schooled.
Interesting.
Trotting out to meet with his clutchmate, Kieran stretched his neck forward and headbutted his brother. The two shared a moment of affection before they headed down the hall toward the trading patio.
Dragons were excellent at many things, but making soft fluffy things was not one of them. They greatly appreciated soft fluffy things, pillows and blankets and furs, but they weren’t good at making them. They were however quite good at making other creatures run for their lives, so the hunting party was sometimes called upon to do exactly that such as when a group of ogres decided to raid the centaurs of the western valleys. Sending a petition to the Dragon King was sometimes enough to make an enemy go running, if it wasn’t, a flight of dragon warriors would do it just as handily. Kieran longed to go on such a quest, but he knew he would not be allowed unless the royal family itself was in peril. For now though, he would keep to himself and see what the hunting party had brought back.
Centaurs, for their part of the bargain, supplied many of the smaller dexterity items the dragons needed. They would sew and make jewelry out of gems dragons found, and tend to the livestock which made it possible for dragons not to have to raid human lands anymore. The time of a dragon stealing a cow from a human farmer were long over; however, humans still remembered those times with great fear and animosity.
Talk about creatures with long memories.
Of course, there were those humans who sought out dragons. They were, not politely, turned away. Humans had proven to be fickle allies. There was little that could make a dragon trust them. They stole. They lied. They cheated. They attempted murder.
All things humans did that could be held against them.
Of course, dragons, for all their nobility, could not be said to be without blame.
Kieran simply thought they were more blameless than those who chose to do damage to his fellow creatures.
The trading patio was out of doors and rimmed by clouds. The hunting party had returned with quite a few things piled high in their baskets. Some of it was meat, which would be doled out to those who were hungry. The children would be fed before the adults because the adults could always go barter for their own food, or catch the larger of the animals themselves. Or maybe eat an ogre or three to cull that population. Kieran hadn’t been on an ogre raid in quite some time. Nor did he think his father would allow him to go on one any time soon. There were those who would go with him if he went, but he didn’t dare ask for the moment. Not when his father was already a little ruffled by the recent occurrence of him being caught in a snowstorm.
“Did you tell my father about the woman?” Kieran asked.
“No, was I supposed to?”
“No, Airy,” Kieran said. “I don’t think you were supposed to and I would rather you didn’t because truthfully, she helped me.”
Their conversation, held quietly at the edge of the trading patio near the clouds, could have been overheard, but Kieran didn’t very much care. Instead, he continued. “She turned my wing lose from the ice.”
“Oh,” his clutchmate said. Then he said nothing else, turning toward a shiny which had popped out of one of the baskets. It was followed by the head of a dragon kin, one of the young who was obviously fascinated with it. Under the watchful eye of Kieran and Aieran, the youngling came to the edge of the patio. It chirped and squeaked its name at them, over and over again in its excitement. The two older dragons formed a fence with their tails to keep the young one away from the edge and continued talking.
“So you were caught in the ice.”
“I was, not completely, but my wing was caught and she set me loose.” He didn’t mention how the woman had bapped him in the nose, but that didn’t really need mentioning. Kieran didn't want to think about possibly getting his feelings hurt for getting hit in the nose. “That’s why I told you to leave her alone.”
“Oh.” Aieran looked at him critically, a comical look on the younger’s face to be sure, and then said. “Something’s different about this.”
Kieran let him think what he would and nudged the youngling away from the edge of the patio with his nose. The far younger dragon seemed to be more interested in its bauble than its safety and where was its nest mother? Though he didn’t have much in the way of interest in things at that moment, he needed to decide what he was going to do.
The hunting party had brought back a great deal, which was wonderful, but it also made Kieran suspicious. Why had they brought back so much, especially gems and such. Gemstones and precious metals the family had aplenty. There was no reason for them to be bringing back so much unless there was a reason Kieran didn’t like.
His mother and father came out of the hall and onto the trading patio. For a moment, Kieran considered going directly to his father and confirming his suspicions, but he didn’t. Instead he stood there and fidgeted until his mother came close to try and sooth him. He didn’t want to be soothed, though. He wanted an answer to a very important question. What was going on?
Ualira waited for her husband to finish his business with the hunting party before she moved close to her eldest and offered him a soothing breath of smoke from her nostrils. Meant to pacify, it was a behavior a mother only used with her children. Kieran would never stop being her hatchling.
“Something is troubling you?” she asked.
“Is this what I think it is?” he asked in return. Of course, there were those who would have left well enough alone, Kieran was not one of them. He needed to know and he needed to know now what was going on.
“What do you think it is?” So far, neither of them had answered a question and Kieran knew his mother could go on like this all night if it were necessary to conceal her emotions and their choices.
“I think we’re preparing to pay a kimba.”
Her eyes didn’t widen and there was no obviosu sign she understood what he was talking about, but Kieran knew his mother’s hidden face. She wouldn’t have been able to hide from him anyway.
Kimba or bride price was always paid in fashioned gemstones so that the family to which it was given didn’t have to pay the cost of having them fashioned. Instead, they simply reaped the reward of having a daughter worthy of giving away. Kimbo, the male opposite, was paid the same; however, it was a different child one would give away. Ualira did not seem surprised her son fumed lightly at blank expression.
She asked a simple question then. “Whose do you think it is?”
“Mine.”
There wasn’t much to draconic politicking. There were those who had and those who didn’t, but possessed skills which could be deeply useful. Therefore, when it came time for a favored child of a flight to mate, their mating was often arranged by their flights to insure both good children and strength for both of the mated pair. Sitting with a clutch of eggs until they hatched could be quite a feat of patience.
Ualira didn’t deny it. Of course, she didn’t have to. Her silence was enough confirmation for Kieran. He looked from his mother to his clutchmate, who looked to all the world as if he had just been caught in a lie, and then stalked his way off the patio floor. Better to be inside before he broke down. He wasn’t ready.
Of course, his father had been mated at his age. He produced his first clutch, many of whom were now well into clutches of their own, right at the age Kieran was now. The older dragon had chosen his own mate though, being as he had not been expected to take much interest in the running of the kingdom; however, Aelerian proved them wrong by not only learning to run the kingdom, but eventually becoming the King himself. There were those who thought he was unfit to rule because he had not been chosen for the position, but he had a good head on his neck.
All things considered, Kieran nearly stopped at his father’s side and asked him to reconsider, there were those who would benefit from mates far more than he would. Then again, his father would most likely be unsympathetic for the very reasons he thought of. His age was hardly an impediment to him rising to mate. Kieran had heard the rumors: perhaps there was something wrong with him because he didn’t see the need to mate yet. His beast should have sought a mate years ago, but now it slept dormant. As if he would never actually be with anyone.
Well, maybe not anyone. He still had those saffron eyes in his vision when he entered the eating hall. There was meat strewn throughout the floor, since they weren’t the kinds of creatures to stand on ceremony when it came to eating amongst themselves. He found himself a haunch and proceeded to start to devour it, cleaning the meat off the bone with rasps of his tongue. He didn’t dare just sit back and let it pass though. He would talk to his father about it soon.
Very soon.
CHAPTER THREE
ARCHANA RETURNED TO her father’s castle empty handed. Her attempt at leading a hunting party a disaster. She had not only managed not to get the heart her father craved, but she lost one of the knights he had given to her for the expedition. The walls of the castle loomed high and heavy over her, but she didn’t dare not enter. There was, always, a part of her that wanted to simply turn and run. She had no business there any longer it reasoned. She was nothing more than a pawn in her father’s games. Pulling her hood tighter against her head, she stalked through the castle gates and into the courtyard. Things were gloomy there, hardly more lit than twilight within the castle walls. And it was not the twilight which made one wonder if night would come early, but rather worried that night would never come at all. One would be stuck in the purgatory without the light.
The castle gates were opened for her by the automatons her father created. Some were so stupid, they couldn’t be assigned to anything but opening and closing doors. Then there were those like Ceran. Ceran, a creature of her father’s make, could read, write, do basic mathematics, and even play the strings. He was quite accomplished. He was also the last one her father had ever truly created. He had gotten bored with creating life, now he simply wanted to live forever.
Castle Arachnid’s banners moved in the everpresent breeze through the drafty halls. Archana began the long walk up to her father’s chamber. Others would have quite likely just taken their chances and left, Archana couldn’t see herself leaving her father. He was an abusive bastard to her most of the time, but he was her father and she didn’t really have anywhere she could go. If she disappeared, he would hunt her until he found her. If she didn’t run, then she didn’t have to die tired.
