The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (38 page)

“How ‘bout it?” he asked. “Will you let us out too?”

Juturna turned and looked at Brynn in question. “’Tis what we’d planned on doing all along.”

Brynn heard the cries of the others, all banging on their cells, begging to be set free. She felt the urge to release every one of the prisoners before their lives were taken at the hand of the executioner, but something stirred deep inside her, telling her if she did she’d only be betraying her husband once again. She needed to earn Drake’s trust after what she’d almost done to him with the tainted wine. She needed to act the part of a loyal wife and stand at his side supporting any decision he made. Mayhap she could change his mind about the prisoners over a candlelit dinner and flickering fire. Mayhap there were better ways of changing her husband’s mind. Ways that were loyal and not deceiving. If only she could convince him.

“I can’t.” Brynn slammed the cell door shut before the man could escape. This caused a ruckus out of the prisoners in all the cells. They cursed at her and called her witch, but she just ignored them, speaking to Sir Broderick. “I’ll do what I can to convince Drake not to kill any of you, but I’ve no authority to change his decision.”

“My, you’ve changed,” said Juturna. “From where did this act of respect come?”

“’Tis no longer an act, Juturna. ’Tis something I should have had for him all along. Drake is my husband. I have to respect his word if I expect him to do the same to me. I will never betray him again. I love him too much to go against him.”

“Then let’s go save him,” said Juturna directing Brynn and the old man up the stairs.

Brynn walked out into the sunshine, feeling the warm air on her face. It brought her back to her senses, though she still found it a bit hard to operate her body properly.

“When will this wear off?” she asked Juturna, as she staggered over to a wagon loaded with hay. The mere jaunt up the dungeon stairs and out into the courtyard already left her gasping for breath.

“Soon,” said Juturna. “But I’m afraid it won’t be soon enough.”

“The dragon slumbers, but is about to awake,” said the old man. “With the lord’s anger and every step he takes.”

“Are you trying to say that Dracus is Drake?” asked Brynn. “How can that be?”

“The Pendragon becomes that what he thinks,” said the old man. “He must slay himself in order to be free.”

“I think I understand,” said Juturna. She sat Brynn down on the edge of the wagon. A horse neighed from the front of the cart. “Drake will become the dragon if he does not change his evil ways. He is very close to becoming Dracus already. That’s why you saw his form in the dragon’s lair. Once the dragon consumes him, there’ll be no turning back. The physical Drake will be trapped forever. Just like his father.”

“Yes, yes,” said the old man with wide eyes. “
The Dragon’s Son
will become what his father did. He must find a way to slay his dragon without a sword or he will be consumed forever.”

“You still don’t make sense, old man.” Brynn’s head was starting to hurt from all the man’s idle chatter.

“Yes, he does,” said Juturna. “He’s saying that Drake’s thoughts, his anger, his fears are what conjured up Dracus in the first place. Don’t you see? With every negative thought he’s personally created this dragon. He’s the one who birthed it, and he’s the only one who can stop it.”

“His hatred for his father,” added Brynn, suddenly understanding.

“Exactly.” Juturna laid a hand on the old man’s back in silent gratitude. “Every time Drake is angered, the dragon comes.”

“’Tis true,” cried Brynn. “And every time he tries to kill the dragon, the beast only becomes larger and stronger.”

“The dragon’s fed, the dragon grows.” The old man climbed into the cart with Brynn. “Starvation is the dragon’s foe.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” said Brynn, “but I think we need to find Drake quickly. Let’s find a page to drive this cart and get us to Lornoon before it’s too late.”

“I’ll not wait for a page.” Juturna lifted her skirts above her ankles, climbing up into the driver’s seat. “Hold on you two, we’re going to find the dragon.”

With Juturna’s slap of the reins, the horse jolted off, causing Brynn to fall back into the hay. She watched the sky above her, dizzier than ever, holding on to the side of the cart for dear life as they sped away toward Lornoon. She closed her eyes and prayed for Drake’s soul. She only hoped they could reach him before he was consumed by the dragon, and turned into Dracus forever.

Drake rode through the gates of Thorndale Castle later that morning. His men followed, tired and in need of food and rest. His attempt to stir the dragon was uneventful, but he was sure his bout with Brynn was going to bring up the anger he needed for Dracus to appear.

“Shall I take Gollimer for you, my lord?” Asad slipped off his own horse, running a hand over Gollimer’s nose.

“Aye,” said Drake, lowering his body from his steed. “I’m sure I won’t need him until this evening. By the amount of sleeping potion Brynn drank, it’ll be at least nightfall before she’s able to argue with me.”

“Aye,” answered Asad. “That’ll give you and the men enough time to replenish yourselves.”

“I’m going to sleep, Asad. Make sure to check on the new falconer before you rest.”

“I will, my lord.”

Drake headed off to his chamber, wondering if he was going to be able to sleep while Brynn lie in his bed next to him. He was either going to make love with her or strangle her. Mayhap both. Right now he wasn’t sure which.

The castle seemed very quiet today, and he wondered where Juturna was hiding. He’d have to talk to her as well, about her plans to deceive him. He’d known her since he was a child. Though he didn’t question her outrageous actions, he did question her motives of disrespect.

He opened the door to his room quietly, wanting to get some rest before Brynn awoke from her slumber. The shutters were half closed, and though a stream of light made its way into the room, the bed was shrouded in darkness. He removed his sword, laying it on the trunk by the foot of the bed, then sat on the mattress to remove his boots.

Something wasn’t right. The bed covers were crumpled, but her presence wasn’t here. He jumped up, throwing back the covers to find an empty bed.

“Damn! Where could she be?”

Then he thought of the prisoners, and how Brynn had wanted him to free them. The castle and courtyard did seem very quiet, and he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach she’d done something to betray him again. Something she was going to regret, once he had words with her. She must have carried out her plan after all. He hurriedly strapped on his sword and ran down the steps, making his way to the dungeon.

“My lord? Is anything the matter?” Asad was just making his way to the great hall when Drake just about plowed into him.

“’Tis Brynn. She’s gone. I think she’s released the prisoners.”

“Nay!” shouted Asad, following Drake to the dungeon.

The guard at the door was fast asleep, and Drake bent down to try to wake him. He only snored a louder.

“It looks as if he’s had too much wine,” said Asad, pointing to the overturned goblet by his hand.

Drake picked it up and sniffed the empty cup. “Brynn is up to her witching tricks again.”

He pulled open the door and ran down the steps. Asad was right behind him. He expected to see the cell guard sleeping as well - but outside the cell - not in it. And he expected to see that Brynn had released every last prisoner. He was wrong. The cells were locked, and every prisoner was still in place.

“What’s going on here?” He rattled the bars of the cell, waking the guard. The man sat up and rubbed the back of his head.

“Lord Dunsbard,” he said, scrambling to his feet. “She hit me from behind. I didn’t see it coming.”

“Brynn hit you hard enough to render you unconscious?” he asked in amazement. The thought almost amused him. Mayhap he should train her as one of his warriors. She was a feisty wench, even under the influence of relaxation herbs.

“Nay, not Lady Brynn,” he answered. “I’m speaking of the old seer.”

“Juturna?” He couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s so frail and old. If her punch landed you in the cell, then I need to look for another guard.”

“She had something hard, very hard, in that medicine pouch of hers.” He moaned and rubbed the lump on the back of his head.

“Probably her gazing crystal. I guess it has more power than I thought.”

Just then, Sir Broderick made his way across the cell floor toward Drake. “Forgive me, my lord, for betraying you. I never should have done it. ’Tis just that between Calais and my older brother - ” The knight looked toward his brother lying on the floor being nibbled by rats. To Drake’s horror, he realized the man was dead.

“He’s dead, my lord,” grumbled the guard.

Drake suddenly felt remorse. Remorse like he’d never known. Had Brynn been right about the prisoners after all? Should he have given them a second chance? One of his best knights died because of his refusal to help him. Sir Burgess had been true to him at one time. He didn’t understand where he’d gone wrong.

“Find the keys,” Drake said to Asad. “I am not so inhumane as to let one of my former knights be eaten by rats. We’ll bury the dead and then we’ll look for Brynn.”

* * *

Brynn held on tightly to the sides of the hay wagon as Juturna drove it wildly over the pits and rocks in the road. The old man buried himself under the hay, and didn’t seem to even mind the ride. Brynn’s head was aching, and her vision still wasn’t all that clear. The herbs Juturna used for the sleeping potion were much stronger than she’d imagined. Her stomach turned with every bump, and when they stopped with a jolt, she hung her head over the back and retched.

“Juturna, why did we stop?” she called. “We’re not to Lornoon yet.”

“No, we’re not,” came a male voice. She raised her head to see Calais looking down at her. An army of men dressed like fierce warriors in chain mail and animal furs sat on horses behind him. The Klarens. She would know them anywhere. These were the men responsible for her parents’ deaths. “Surprise, surprise,” Calais said with a rotten-toothed laugh.

“Calais!” She sat upright, noticing that his leg was still splinted, and he used a stick as a cane to walk around. “What’s the meaning of this?”

A grizzly warrior with a scar across his cheek lowered himself from his horse and joined them. “So, Witch,” he bellowed. “This time we’ll make no mistakes. This time you’re going to die.” He reached out and grabbed Brynn’s hair, turning her face up to look at him.

“Let go of me, you filthy beast!”

“I should enjoy killing you just as much as I did your witch mother.”

“You were the one to kill her?” Brynn cleverly pulled his dagger from his belt, reaching up and striking it across his unmarred cheek.

“Bitch!” he said, pulling her hair so hard she fell out of the cart to the ground. The man stepped on her wrist, making her release the dagger. He reached for it, and held it to her throat. “You’ll die for that.” He wiped his hand across the blood running down his face.

“Release her,” screamed Juturna.

Brynn realized they’d tied the old woman’s hands behind her back and one man was holding her in a tight grip against his chest.

“You kill me and the
Dragon’s Son
will hunt you down like a dog,” Brynn spat. “Drake will slice you from ear to ear and then stick your head on a spike for harming me.”

“I’d like to see him try.” The man was going to kill her. Hadn’t it been for Calais, he most likely would have.

“Wait!” Calais held out his hand. “I have an idea. We’ll use the girl to lure Lord Dunsbard and his men to us. We’ll kill them all and claim Thorndale Castle for ourselves.”

“He’s not a Klaren,” yelled a man atop a horse, pointing to Calais. “Why should we listen to him?”

“Because,” said Calais. “I’m going to be Lord of Thorndale. I’ve already bedded Lady Dunsbard, so I think as soon as I kill off Drake, I’ll claim her for my wife.”

“You won’t be lord.” The scarred man spat at his feet. “I’ll marry the witch and claim Thorndale Castle as my own.”

“You’re forgetting the curse,” said Calais. “Look at me! Anyone who beds the girl will be cursed unless he can kill off Dracus.”

Brynn knew the Klarens were very frightened of witches and curses. They wanted to kill her in the first place because they feared her powers. To put another curse on their heads would be asking for sure death.

“Then I’ll kill her, just as I’ve planned. I’ll claim Thorndale either way.”

“Did you ever consider the curse for killing a witch?” Calais asked with a raised brow.

“Let Calais have her,” shouted the man atop the horse. “We’ll take everything else.”

“Don’t forget about Dracus,” Brynn reminded Calais. “Do you really think you’ll be able to kill the dragon?”

“Mayhap not,” said Calais, scratching his chin. “But I know someone who can kill it, and you’re going to help us lure the man to the dragon’s lair. Yes, if Drake knows you’re in danger, he’ll blindly lead his men into a trap to try to save you.”