Mistress of Dragons (16 page)

Bellona
took off her sandals and removed the white robes. Pouring cool water into a
bowl, she dipped a sponge into the water, wrung it out, and laved Melisande’s
arms and breasts, her face and hands. Bellona used long, slow strokes, moving
the sponge gently, so as not to wake her. Melisande shivered, but she did not
waken. Bellona carefully loosened the heavy coil of braided hair and brushed
out the waves that were gold in the daylight, white by the moon’s reckoning.

This
done, Bellona drew the blanket over Melisande’s damp body, so that she would
not take a chill. Leaning over, she kissed Melisande on the forehead, on the
eyelids, and the mouth. Melisande never stirred, but the lines of weariness had
smoothed, the tension in her body relaxed. She slept deeply and peacefully.
Somewhere in the night, a woman gave a drowsy, satiated laugh. A man’s deep
chuckle joined her. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. It would rain
before morning.

Bellona
crawled into bed, flung one arm protectively over Melisande, and shut out the
moonlight.

“We’ll
leave the horses here,” said draconas, tying the reins around a tree limb, “and
go in on foot.”

He
could not see Edward’s face, for he was turned away from him, but he could tell
by the quick, deft movements that the king was eager for action. Edward did as
instructed, and swiftly joined Draconas.

The
fire-blasted pine tree, still smoldering, was a furlong away, growing on a
ledge that jutted out from the rock face. The moon had lit their way up the
side of the mountain. An easy climb, for the slope was gradual, not steep; the
trees flung about with a sparing hand. Distant thunder presaged more rain. As
they neared their destination, the sky thickened with clouds that swallowed up
moon and stars and the dragon Braun, who was as eager for action as Edward. Of
the two, Braun was the one Draconas least trusted.

He
had no idea how the young and impulsive dragon would react. Braun had done well
so far—the blasting of the pine tree had been an inspired idea. Draconas hoped
Braun would continue to behave rationally and circumspectly, but he couldn’t
count on it. Braun was being motivated by vengeance and that was a self-damning
emotion, both in humans and in dragons.

As
for Edward, Draconas had only one regret and that was the undeniable fact that
His Grace was in no way graceful when it came to trekking through the woods.
Edward made noise enough for six kings, slipping and stumbling, cursing beneath
his breath, treading on dry branches that crackled and crunched beneath his
boots, and once nearly upsetting himself when his foot turned on a rock.

“For
all the noise you’re making, we might as well shoot off one of those blasted
cannons to announce we’re coming,” Draconas told him.

“It’s
all very well for you to talk,” Edward returned, breathing hard. “You have eyes
like a bat, apparently. I can’t see a damn thing in this witch’s murk.”

Draconas
felt a twinge of remorse. He tended to forget that humans were not blessed with
his dragon’s ability to see in the darkness.

“Place
your toe first and roll back on the heel,” Draconas suggested. “You’ll find
your footing more secure.”

“I
look like a mincing dancing master,” Edward grumbled, but he did as Draconas
recommended, and the two proceeded. Fortunately rain began to fall again,
masking their footfalls.

They
climbed to a point that brought them directly underneath the overhanging ledge
on which stood the marked pine. Beyond the pine, so Braun had reported, was the
cavern opening, with what appeared to be a crude road leading up to it.

The
road provides the humans easy access, Draconas thought, pleased to have his
theory confirmed.

They
stood beneath the ledge, peering upward. The rain pattered down on them
lightly, dripped off the ledge. Thunder grumbled above them. Lightning spread
blue-white fire over the underbelly of the clouds.

Holding
his breath, Draconas cocked his head, listened. “What is it?” whispered Edward,
tensing. “Voices,” said Draconas. “I’m going to take a look.” Catching hold of
the edge, he swung himself easily up and over the ledge. He flattened himself
on the rock shelf, taking care to keep hidden in the ruins of the pine tree. No
ordinary human would be able to see him in the rain and the night, but who knew
what a human gifted with the dragon magic might be able to do or see?

And
humans were not the only beings who would be keeping watch for them.

Ahead
of him, about twenty paces away, was the cavern’s opening, a long and narrow
slit in the mountain. A soldier sat hunched on a boulder, his head slumped to
his chest. The man was cloaked and wore a steel helm, chain mail, and carried a
sword. He was the only person in sight. No mad monks.

The
soldier had taken refuge from the rain beneath a shelf of rock that thrust out
over the cave, creating a natural portico. By day, the cavern’s entrance would
be concealed in the shadow of this portico, effectively hiding it from view.
Draconas could have searched for years and might have never discovered it. It
was the road that gave it away, and Braun would have never found that if
Draconas had not told him to look for it.

A
narrow strip of white rock eked out of solid gray, the road had not been carved
out of the stone. The road had been ground into it, the path worn smooth by
countless numbers of feet coming and going over three centuries, trailing down
the mountainside. Braun followed the road from the air, reported that it
disappeared into a forest along the river. The strange road apparently came
from nowhere and led back there, for Braun could not any find trace of it in
the lands surrounding the mountains.

Draconas
turned his attention back to the voices. On first hearing, he had thought them
to be right above him. He now realized that the voices were some distance away,
coming from inside the cavern that was acting to amplify them. He could make
out at least two distinct speakers, but, due to the echoes bouncing off the
cavern walls, he could not understand what they were saying.

Under
the cover of thunder, Draconas slithered off the ledge, dropped back down.

“One
guard,” he reported, whispering into Edward’s ear. “And he’s asleep.”

“Any
sign of the enchantment?” Edward whispered back. “Fairy dust sprinkled about
the opening? Eerily glowing cobwebs strung across the entrance?”

“We
won’t know if the enchantment’s working until we try to enter. And if it is,”
Draconas added coolly, “you won’t find it so damn funny. For mercy’s sake, keep
as silent as you can!”

Draconas
again leaped for the ledge, pulled himself up and over. He crouched low,
listening to make certain that no one else was coming. He heard nothing, except
the voices within the cavern.

The
somnambulant guard slumped on the boulder. Draconas couldn’t blame him for
keeping careless watch. Three hundred years of these trysts and nothing had
happened, ever. “Hand me my staff,” said Draconas.

Edward
handed up the staff. Draconas rested it on the ground beside him, then reached
for the king. Catching hold of Edward’s hand, Draconas hauled him up onto the
ledge. “Quiet!” Draconas warned. The two crouched, frozen. The voices still
continued their conversation, but over that they could hear footfalls and
other, stranger noises.

“That
sounded like a baby’s cry!” Edward breathed.

“Keep
silent!” Draconas returned irritably, trying to think. He turned to the king,
gripped his hand, looked him in the eye. “Whatever happens, whatever you hear
or see, you must not interfere. Promise me.”

“What’s
going on? You have to tell me.”

“There’s
no time. Promise me,” Draconas said, “or I turn back.”

Edward
stood frowning, glancing balefully at the dark cavern. The footfalls and the
sound of whimpering and crying grew louder. They were nearing the entrance.

“I
promise,” he muttered.

“There’s
nothing you can do,” Draconas told him. “If you try to stop them, they’ll fight
and you’ll risk harming the children. Take cover over there. Wait for my
signal.”

Edward
did as ordered, though he was plainly not happy. Like all animals, humans had
the instinctive need to protect the young of the species. Draconas should have
warned the king of the possibility that there might be children involved, but
he had never supposed they might arrive in the middle of a transfer.

Of
all the confounded luck!

Draconas
waited one more second to make certain that Edward obeyed orders. The king
might be a romantic, but he had a good measure of common sense, and he did as
he was told, padding softly past the slumbering guard, taking cover in a jumble
of rocks near the cavern’s entrance. Once Edward was safely ensconced, Draconas
clambered from boulder to boulder, climbing up the outside of the cavern’s wall
and out onto the portico. Flattening himself on top of it, he peered over the
edge.

The
sleeping soldier was directly beneath him. Three more soldiers, accoutered like
the first, in steel helms and armed with swords, emerged from the cavern.

“Wake
up, you lazy bastard,” said one, thumping the lookout. “Lucky for you it was me
and not Grald caught you snoring on watch. Else you’d be asleep permanent.”

“Bah,
what’s to watch for? Nothin’ but goats up here,” said the guard with a yawn. He
looked back into the cavern. “I wish those old biddies would get a move on. Can’t
you make ‘em hurry?”

“Hurry
up in there,” the soldier called. “And douse that blamed torch!”

“I
won’t,” returned a shrill female voice, sharp and indignant. “It’s dark as
pitch out here.”

“Our
way’s been lit before,” said another female. “You’ve had moonlight before,”
returned the soldier. “Well, the moon’s not out, is it?”

Five
women, dressed as nuns, in black habits and black wimples, emerged from the
cavern. One of them carried the contested torch, blazing brightly. Four of them
carried bundles of cloth that occasionally stirred or let out a cry or a
whimper. At the sight, Edward gave a gasp that was audible to Draconas, but,
thankfully, not to the soldiers, who were still arguing with the women.

“Grald’s
orders,” said the soldier. “No light. You can take it up with him.”

The
women looked at each other. “Put it out,” said one dourly.

The
soldier took the torch, doused it in a puddle. The women continued to grumble
and complain that they couldn’t see and they’d surely fall off the cliff.

“If
I break my neck, you’ll be left to care for this squalling brat,” said one.

“Your
eyes’ll get accustomed to the dark,” said the soldier. “The walk’s not that
far. The wagon’s waiting for us in the woods.”

The
women began to creep along the road, shuffling their feet to feel their way.

“We’ll
be all night at this rate,” groaned the soldier who had been asleep.

“Don’t
worry,” returned his comrade. “Grald will soon be along and then you’ll see the
old crones hop lively.”

“Keep
your voice down,” said the first nervously. “Those women have the magic, you
know, and they’d just as soon turn us inside out as look at us.”

“Let
them try,” said the other with a shrug, but he did lower his voice.

His
comrade looked back around. “How long will Grald be in there with her?”

“
‘Til whenever Her Worship decides to dismiss him.”

“Should
one of us wait for him?”

“He
ordered us to guard the women. He’ll meet us at the wagon. Don’t worry. If
trouble comes, Grald can take care of himself.”

“Don’t
I know it,” said the soldier sincerely. As the soldier had predicted, the women
soon grew used to the darkness and mended their pace. The soldiers hastened
after them. Draconas could smell the dragon magic on the women, as Edward had
been able to smell the thunder.

Once
they were gone, the king rose from his hiding place, walked out to stand in
front of the cave. Slithering down from his perch, Draconas dragged the king
into the shadows.

“Nuns
carrying babies out of a cave!” Edward confronted him. “And you knew they’d be
here.”

“At
least,” said Draconas, “we know that the entrance is not enchanted.”

“The
hell with that! What about the babies? Where are they taking them? Whose are
they? What in the name of the Holy Mother is going on?”

“Come
with me,” said Draconas. “And for your life, make no sound.”

“Damn
it, Draconas—”

“Are
you coming?” Draconas asked, starting toward the cavern entrance.

Edward
had little choice. Muttering, he followed after. “It’s dark as death in here.
Hold onto me or you’ll soon lose your way,” Draconas told him.

Draconas
felt Edward’s hand close over his arm. The king was a quick learner. He moved
almost as silently as Draconas. The narrow entrance opened up into a wide
cavern with a high ceiling. They would come to pick up the children once a
month, on a night with a full moon to light their way. He wondered how many
babies had been taken from this dark and fearful place to what darker and more
fearful fate? Hundreds? Thousands? He was glad Edward didn’t know what horrors
these children faced. No human possessed of that knowledge could have stood by
and watched them being spirited away without doing something to try to save
them.

The
two voices grew louder, clearer, and he was able to determine their location.
The large chamber ended. A small opening to his left led into another chamber
beyond. Light emanated from this chamber, spilled out onto the floor, carrying
a man’s shadow with it. Draconas halted so suddenly that Edward bumped into
him.

Draconas
squeezed Edward’s arm, warning him to be silent. Edward squeezed back, much
harder than necessary. Yes, I’ll keep quiet now, that painful squeeze said, but
I have plenty to say later.