Dragon's Son, page 11
I hope the court has not guessed how frightened I am. It is late, and I have retired to my bed at last. However, when Julia left, I went to your room and stole your journal. I need to say what I am feeling, but I’m scared to confide in anyone. You never loved your father, but I think I did. He was the only parent I’ve known in years. I am not surprised that I miss him, but I was unprepared for the utter disaster that would follow his death not a full day after.
I do not think I am overreacting. No, I am overreacting. I should not have been caught off guard so easily. I should have expected that you becoming a dragon would unbalance things, and thus, I shouldn’t be trembling like I am. I should have anticipated some form of treachery. Alexis, my hands are shaking!
I’ve spilled ink all over the sheet. That’s what comes of writing in bed. What’s done is done, however. I am too cold and too scared to get out of bed. I am so stupid! I am earnestly considering tearing out this page and burning it before you come home.
I wish you would come tonight!
In this journal, I am going to write everything that happened today and tell myself that you are here listening.
Your father died before dawn. I was not told until almost noon, when I went to visit him as I’ve done daily. Lord Dukas was to blame for that. Supposedly, he wanted to spare me the pain for as long as possible, on account of my being weighed down with worries of you. This surprised me. I have worried about you, but not deeply. No one has displayed much anxiety for you—you have Unimar’s full confidence! I have not allowed myself to doubt that you know exactly what you are doing, and I’d presumed that the lords felt the same. I was further surprised, and at that point rather suspicious, to learn that no letter had been sent to you, the crown prince, a matter that should have been addressed the moment Pereas’s breath left him. I wrote to you forthwith.
I have been deceived, and I’m still not sure how badly.
I dutifully summoned the council and proclaimed the news officially to all the lords. I am glad to say that several of them—Lord Scipio in particular—urged that you be instantly recalled from your pursuit of Villian and crowned without delay. However, this was not the opinion of all. No one spoke against your crowning, but many spoke against your immediate return. The gist of their argument was that until you had killed Villian, you yourself had said you would remain a dragon. We resolved to leave the decision in your hands. You would receive my letter and do as seemed best.
This seemed a sensible conclusion, and I set about Pereas’s funeral preparations. How heartless are we, the human race, and how stupid am I? What else have I missed? What will I miss tomorrow and the day after? It is no wonder you’ve never trusted anyone.
Lord Publius volunteered to pen the public announcement. No objections were made, and as it was then suggested that I also address the people, our attention was turned. It never occurred to me to inspect Publius’s script for the town criers. What could go wrong with such a simple task?
Publius is our enemy. I did not say it straight in my letter to you, but I write it plainly here. He is not our friend. He, Dukas, and others. I will learn more tomorrow when I speak to them at council.
I’ve prepared a funeral before, but not one for a king. I was not surprised by how monopolized I found myself by the staff and courtiers. Looking back, however, I think half of it was a ruse. It was near suppertime when Lord Leo suddenly flung himself into my presence and announced that a mob had gathered at the palace gates and had been clamoring for hours. Twice in one day, I had been kept in the dark. Leo made no secret of the fact that a clutch of his peers had actively prevented word from reaching me. Leo and several others had attempted to alert me throughout the day, I am told. I ran with him to the front of the palace and stood at a window, and through the portcullis across the courtyard below, I saw the mob by their torches. I asked Leo what their cause was. His answer woke me at last.
“It was Lord Publius’s announcement,” Lord Leo said. “He spoke of the king’s death, but not of the prince’s succession. That, at least, is what we’ve collected.”
That is more or less a direct quote. What does it matter?
If I were witless, I would have asked why this had not been immediately remedied, but I knew why. Publius—and many others, I am certain—did not wish to sanction your succession. I should have expected something like this. I expected it at first, when you were still here, but by the time you left, things seemed easy again. The lords seemed committed, all of them.
Leo said the mob had called for me earlier. I said I would go out, and he came with me. I have never seen and heard such wild rage as I saw tonight through the portcullis. Leo bid the guards stand aside so that I might speak.
I’ve never been screamed at with such hatred. What an opinion the crowd had of me! Yesterday, the city loved me. Today, they saw me as a traitor, the worst wife in the entire empire, a pawn, and far more vulgar things. I tried to speak to them, but they kept shouting. Leo tried to help, but they wouldn’t listen to him either. Finally, someone in the crowd shoved a paper through the portcullis. I spied his earnest face and caught the man’s shouted words:
“Read it, my lady!”
Leo fetched it and brought it to me.
I saw it was a list of some kind, but I confess, I was so shaken, I could not read it. I hid this embarrassment by entreating the mob to quiet itself.
It worked this time, at least for the front ranks.
Leo directed my attention to the paper in my hands. I could make out a few words, but as I was still frightened, I truly did not understand them. I spoke instead: “Why do Unimar’s people shout at the door of their king?”
I felt pretentious when I said it. I’ve never expected common folk to laugh at me, but I expected it now. Graciously, they did not.
“It is the prince’s men who bang at the door,” said the man who had delivered the paper. “We are here to make known the will of his subjects.”
Something in the man’s face and voice calmed me, or maybe it was because I had now remembered the cause of their unrest. They were angry because Publius had not declared you Pereas’s successor. Well, I was not your enemy. I could refute their fears.
I realized what I was holding, then.
“A list of terms?” I held up the paper.
“Yes, my lady. A list of terms for the traitors in the palace.”
“You call me a traitor?”
“I serve Alexis Comnenus, and hate his enemies.”
I calmed further, feeling less threatened and more as though I were amongst misinformed friends. It was probably for the best, in that moment, that your letters had been threaded with love poetry, for it’s helped me remember your instructions. A passage from one of them sprang to my mind: “Be wary of a mob’s demands. Fear and pity might lead us to make slaves of ourselves. You must learn to know when to concede and when to hold firm. You must not look the tyrant or the coward.”
It was more than possible that they wouldn’t believe me if I swore I was loyal to you.
I lowered the paper without another glance and stood as straight as I could, looking as stern as I ever managed. “Your prince, say you? Do you not mean your king? Dare you accuse me of disloyalty when you’ve audaciously sent anything that could be construed as commands to your absent lord’s wife? Who rules this city? You? Why do you come here with a list of terms for the Comnenian family?”
“My lady would honor us if she would answer why her beloved husband has not been declared king.”
“An oversight. Perhaps it was presumed obvious that the crown prince would be the next king.”
Would that it was an oversight! I may have said it, but even before hearing Barnabas’s coming complaint, I did not believe Publius was innocent.
Another voice broke out and commanded me to swear loyalty to you. Many others clamored in agreement.
“It is easily done!” I cried. “I am Alexis’s humble servant, his wife, his subject, his footstool if he demanded it. Long may he reign! King Pereas is dead, and Alexis is our destined sovereign—our king!”
Cheers roared up at that, which gave me courage, despite the undercurrent of unconvinced jeers. The crowd quieted quickly when their spokesman began again.
He said that if I was sincere, then he would speak even more boldly. He told me his name: Barnabas Avitus, and he said he was a soldier. He, and many of the men gathered, had followed you throughout your campaigns, and had, before you left to hunt Villian, been given honorable posts as palace guards. Hardly two days after your departure, however, Barnabas and nearly all the soldiers you had thus employed were swiftly dismissed, some without excuse, others for reasons so contrived, I had to ask Barnabas to explain them twice and still can’t make sense of them. When shortly thereafter King Pereas died and you were not named king, the disgruntled men panicked.
Let me try to remember what Barnabas said, so that you’ll understand their reasoning. He said he was conscious of the danger of a lowly soldier impugning the honor of powerful men, but that as a soldier, he was accustomed to risking his life for his country. I was much impressed by that speech.
This journal is helpful. I’m glad to be able to confess such things somewhere. I hope you do not mind that I’m writing in it. I suppose I could have started one of my own, but this one is yours, and you are gone, and I wish you were here. You unmasked yourself in this journal. It is special to me. It really does make me feel like you are listening.
I shall continue.
“I fear, Your Majesty,” (Barnabas was speaking to me. He seemed to accept me as queen after my declaration of loyalty). “I fear, Your Majesty, that you are surrounded by those who love Alexis not. You say the dignities of your father-in-law prevented our upset from reaching your ears. I say it was the scruples of the men around you, men who fear the reign of our prince because he has temporarily become a dragon. Is Unimar in danger? Most would say not. Alexis did not leave us undefended or without instruction. Dragon slayers patrol the walls, and upon every tower is a manned ballista. The citizens are trained and ready to move quickly into the city bunkers. Yet I perceive, noble lady, that the more immediate danger is not in the sky, but from those who, by their craft, money, and power, will prevent Alexis’s ascension to the throne. I would not, for all the wealth in the world, let any harm come to our prince, and thus, I count my life cheap to speak so plain. The lords knew where lay the loyalties of my fellows and me. Thus I finish: methinks it is not chance that, shortly after our dismissal, King Pereas died; and methinks that, considering the honeyed praise that the announcement spared for Alexis, considering the dripping, droning lines of well-wishes for the prince on his hunt, the writer could have remembered Beotian custom and added, ‘Long live Alexis the King!’ unless they did not wish to.”
I remember that my body hummed with dread at that moment. Do you see how right Barnabas is? I was stunned. Many irreverent members of the mob cheered, but as for Barnabas and myself, we were quiet.
My mind raced. What was the wise thing to do? All I could do was think about how right Barnabas sounded, and how treacherous the palace seemed. I still don’t know what else I could have done but what I did, which was to say, “I do not condemn a lord on the word of a soldier, but if Alexis assigned you to the palace, only Alexis or I shall un-assign you. I will investigate, and if what you say about your employment is true, you shall all be reinstated.”
I left, then. Many in the crowd were displeased, perhaps because I didn’t fly into a fit and send droves of lords to the torturing chamber. Maybe I should have. Maybe I will! Oh, please, find your brother and kill him tonight! Kill him and end this madness. What more do the lords have planned? Now that I am aware of their treachery, what will they do? They know that I know, and thus, watching quietly is out of the question. I must assert my power and protect your throne. Barnabas believes Pereas was murdered, though the physicians disagree. What if they are lying?
I dropped my pen and got ink all over my nightgown.
Alexis, you left me in command. Either you did not guess things would be so bad, or you have far more faith in me than I thought. Regardless, I promise you this: I am not beaten. Pereas often spoke of Beotian life being a deadly game. I’ve learned the rules, and tomorrow, I’m going to show the council how well I play. You did not leave Unimar undefended, either against the skies or within the palace. I am here, and I am queen, crowned or not. Perhaps they suppose I am but frills and flutter, an opinionated princess boasting safely because her husband is feared, but they are wrong.
I am more Beotian than any of them.
Alexis
The Beotians had various hideouts in the mountain forests. Luckily, despite his brief stint as Beotia’s hero, Villian did not know them. Most were small caves, accessible only via narrow ravines. The one to which Alexis was taken was near a large waterfall. The thundering roar dimmed as the prince and his men filed through the cramped entrance and down the slender corridor that widened at last into a spacious chamber.
The dragon slayers lit the braziers and began checking the supply barrels. Blankets were located and passed around. Alexis, standing on shaky legs and gripping his right arm, shoved Sebastian sharply when the man attempted to move him once more.
“Enough!” Alexis snapped. “Leave me. Tend to yourself.”
“You are hurt, Alexis. Sit down,” Sebastian growled.
Did the fool think he hadn’t noticed? Alexis stalked away, feeling the pain of his scrapes and bruises. Each one, caused by Villian. His arm hurt the most. Alexis would drink in the agony and let it fuel his hunger for revenge.
“Find me some bandages and ointment,” Sebastian’s voice ordered.
Alexis settled onto a stone and felt angrier when he went to coil his tail about himself and realized that in his human form, he didn’t have one.
“Your Highness?”
Alexis glanced up at Sebastian, hands laden with bandages, and looked away with a sneer. “You kept your gloves on. Wise man.”
Seeming to accept this as permission, Sebastian knelt and got to work. Alexis cooperated mutely as his scale gambeson was removed and his linen sleeve rolled up. Sebastian’s dragon skin gloves protected his human flesh from the steaming blood.
“Send slayers to find survivors,” Alexis muttered.
“It is too soon,” Sebastian countered. “The dragons are still hunting. Better to let the slayers find shelter on their own. The less movement, the better.”
“Villian mustn’t have any more victory than he’s snatched already.”
“Hence, the less movement, the better.” Sebastian tightened a bandage.
Alexis yelped at the abrupt pain and snarled, his left hand catching the Eldonian by the throat. “Worthless clunk! Can’t you heal me without wounding me further?”
Sebastian’s eyes bulged. He clutched Alexis’s forearm. “Alexis, let go of me!”
Alexis did so with another shove. “The men will be dying, outside!”
“They’ll die faster if we alert the dragons of their positions. Cassius advised against going out. It is not the way. We lie low for two and a half hours. The dragons will get bored and leave. Then, and only then, can we emerge. The slayers outside will be doing the same. It is how they’ve been trained.”
And Cassius thought the slayers outside would be lying quietly? They were humans. They would be running for their lives. Sebastian seemed rather witless since Alexis had turned into a dragon. Was he being so on purpose? It was irritating, having a dullard nearby.
“I am not a dullard, Alexis. You’re a dragon, and you’re in a terrible temper.”
Alexis flushed. He had not intended to speak his thoughts. That kept happening. Uncomfortable, he went quiet. He realized then that he and Sebastian were alone.
“Where are the men?” Alexis asked.
“I sent them to explore the tunnels. Cassius says there is another chamber.”
The real, unspoken message sank into Alexis easily.
The prince was not fit to be seen at the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Alexis said.
“Are you? You’re not yourself. Don’t roll your eyes at me! I’m not talking about tonight only. Alexis, look at yourself! Inside yourself, look! You talk about Beotia’s greatness and defeating dragons, but do you not see what you’ve become?”
“What I’ve become? Don’t you think I know I’m a dragon?”
“No!” Sebastian exclaimed, eyes wide, head shaking. “No, I don’t! You don’t seem to have any idea of it! What happened out there? How could you take flight at such a time?”
“How could I do otherwise, with Villian so close?”
“You could have stayed on the ground, not fly up so the shooters couldn’t shoot!”
“If I had won, this war would be over!”
Sebastian smacked the earth. “Forget the war and listen to what I am saying. I can understand our hunt for Villian becoming an obsession, but not so bad as you’ve taken it. I’ve never seen you goaded before, yet Villian lured you into the sky like a dog lured with a piece of meat! There’s a coldness to you, Alexis; it’s been there for days. You sit and listen to men praising you, and then you mock them!”
“I’ve never—”
“Twice, now, yes, and you’ve mocked me more times than that. I’ve been ready to strangle you this whole week! Why did you even become a dragon? Since when has Beotia needed that? You were perfectly suitable as a human! You should never have changed!”
“Beotia has never fought forty dragons at a time!” Alexis shot.
“No, she hasn’t. And one dragon will therefore turn the tide?”
“Why do you taunt me?” Alexis recoiled by getting to his feet. He looked down at his friend, breathing hard. “What choice do you think I had? I was dying in that field! No one could aid me, not even you! I would have died if I hadn’t become a dragon!”
