The Dragon Lord (26 page)

King John’s solemn expression sent chills racing down Rose’s spine. Pursing his lips, he tapped his jaw with his forefinger for long, suspenseful minutes until Rose could no longer stand it.

“Sire, please, has something happened to my husband?”

“Sir Derek of Fenmore just returned from the Welsh marches with welcome news. My army has been victorious. The Welshmen have broken off battle and fled back across the border.”

“Thank God,” Rose breathed on a sigh of relief. “Will Lord Dragon be returning soon?”,

“Brace yourself, madam, for the news I bear is not good.”

“Has Dragon been wounded?” Rose asked on a rising note of fear. “I must go to him.”

“‘Tis worse, madam, much worse,” John said with a solemnity that bespoke his own remorse. “Lord Dragon was sorely wounded and is not expected to live.”

Rose blanched and swayed. “Nay, I do not believe it! I would feel it here”—she placed a hand over her heart—“if Dragon were dead. May I speak with Sir Derek, sire?”

“Aye, madam, if it pleases you.”

A knight stepped forward. Rose had been so engrossed in the king’s message, she had not noted his presence. His chain mail and surcoat were covered with road dust, and his face showed signs of fatigue.

Derek of Fenmore bowed before the king, then turned to Rose.“My lady, ‘tis sad news I bring this day. Lord Dragon is truly a legend among men. He will be sorely missed.”

Rose began trembling. “Did you see him die? Were you there to witness his last breath?”

“I saw him fall, my lady. He took a lance in the side, and the wound was a mortal one.”

“But did you see him die?” Rose persisted. “Please, sir, I must know.”

“Nay, my lady, I did not see him breathe his last, but ‘twas obvious his death was imminent.”

“Where is he now?”

“His knights carried him home to Dragonwyck. He asked to be buried on his own land. His men commandeered a cart and left immediately for Dragonwyck.”

“He could have lived,” Rose argued. “You did not see him die.”

“I saw his wound, my lady, and there was the look of death upon his face. I am truly sorry. Lord Dragon was a great knight and loyal defender of England.”

Rose aimed a lethal look at King John. ” Tis your fault!” she shouted. “You doubted Dragon’s loyalty and sent him to his death. I must return home immediately.

I refuse to believe he is dead until I see his body.”

“I mourn with you, madam, but I cannot allow you to return to Dragonwyck at this time.”

“What! How can you deny me?”

“We must await word from Dragonwyck. Should Dragon survive his wounds, you may return home, but if word of his death reaches me, I will choose a new husband for you. Dragonwyck cannot remain unprotected.”

“Dragon is alive, I know it! I must go to him.”

“You will
not
leave,” John said forcefully.

“If Dragon
is
dead—and I am not saying I believe he is—‘twould be cruel of you to wed me to another while I am in mourning.”

A suspenseful silence stretched between them; then John said,“Very well, madam. Once word reaches me of Dragon’s death, you may have a short time to mourn him before I find you another husband. You are dismissed.”

Rose stood her ground. “But, sire—”

“I have heard all I want to hear from you, madam. Shall I have you escorted from my privy chamber?”

Fearing her tongue would betray her hatred for the man who ruled England, Rose stormed off. But she would not obey the king. Somehow she would return to Dragonwyck, for she knew deep within her heart that Dragon needed her.

When love first came to earth, the Spring spread rose beds to receive her.

—Thomas Campbell

Never had Rose felt so helpless. Dragon needed her, and the king refused to let her leave. The one thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Raj was with Dragon. She had to believe that Raj had found Dragon alive and would keep him that way. She refused to believe otherwise, for to do so would undermine her belief in God and His goodness.

King John’s cruel indifference to her plight appalled and enraged her. He had gone to great lengths to make sure she did not leave the palace, instructing the palace guards to turn her away should she try to leave without his permission. Briefly, Rose had considered climbing the herb garden wall, but decided it was too high and she would probably break her neck.

Once word of Dragon’s presumed death swept through the court, John no longer expected Rose to attend his banquets. She was grateful for the reprieve and remained in seclusion while awaiting news from Dragonwyck.

No one, however, could convince Rose that Dragon was dead, and she began exploring ways to escape. She still had a small hidden sack of coins that Dragon had left her. It was enough to see her safely home, even if she had to buy a horse, though she hoped that would not be necessary. Her plan included stealing her mare from the king’s stables. The largest hurdle would be getting herself out of the palace, and she had not yet devised a plan to accomplish that.

A fortnight later, Rose awakened in the middle of the night with the distinct feeling that she was not alone. With a sense of dread she opened her eyes and saw someone bending over her. She opened her mouth to scream, but a large, callused hand cut off the sound. A familiar voice whispered “shh!” and she immediately quieted.

“‘Tis Raj, mistress. Nod if you understand, and I will remove my hand.”

Rose nodded, and the weight was lifted from her mouth. She leaned on her elbow and saw Raj’s stark features illuminated by moonlight. He looked drawn and exhausted, as if he had traveled a long distance without sleep or food.

“Have you seen Dragon?” Rose asked without preamble. “Is my husband alive? Pray do not keep me in suspense. The king said Dragon was dead,but I refused to believe it.”

“Much has happened since I left the palace, mistress,” Raj began. “I thought about your dream and decided that it was indeed a premonition. Then I asked myself where my master would want to go if he were gravely wounded. The answer came to me as I rode away from the palace.”

“Dragon would want to be taken home to Dragonwyck,” Rose whispered. “Derek of Fenmore returned from the Welsh marches bearing news of Dragon’s death. He claimed he saw Dragon fall during a fierce skirmish, and that Dragon asked his knights to take him to Dragonwyck to die. I feared you would not find Dragon.”

“I arrived at Dragonwyck the day after my master was carried into the keep. He was still alive, but barely.”

Rose moaned and rocked back and forth, repeating over and over, “Oh God, oh God, oh God. Do not tell me Dragon is dead, for I cannot bear it.”

“Lord Dragon was alive when I left Dragonwyck less than a sennight ago. Both Father Nyle and I used our meager knowledge of medicine to help him, but his wound had festered and his body was ravaged by fever.”

“Why did you leave him?” Rose asked on a rising note of panic.

“My master calls your name in his delirium. He needs you, mistress. Fear not; I left him in good hands. The holy man said your mother possessed the skill to save Lord Dragon. She is at Dragonwyck now.”

“My mother agreed to leave the convent?” Rose asked, astounded.

“Aye. She was most eager to reach Dragonwyck after I explained the situation. She even brought one of the nuns more skilled than she in healing.”

“Thank God,” Rose whispered in a choked voice.

“I left to fetch you immediately after I escorted them to the keep.”

“I cannot leave,” Rose lamented. The king has forbidden it. He has ordered me to remain at the palace until he receives word that Dragon will live. Should Dragon die, John intends to wed me to another.” A sob rose from her throat.“I cannot bear it.”

“I suspected as much,” Raj said, “and discussed your situation with your mother.”

There is naught Mama can do,” Rose said sadly.

“You misjudge her cunning,” Raj confided. “Look yonder.” He pointed toward the door, calling Rose’s attention to a cloaked and hooded figure huddled near the closed portal. Raj crooked a finger, and the figure sidled forward.

Consternation furrowed Rose’s brow. “I do not understand. Whom have you brought, Raj?”

The figure approached the bed and threw back her hood. Moonlight revealed a head crowned with hair the color of gold. Rose looked into the maiden’s face and saw her own image.

“Starla!” Rose squealed. “What in all that is holy are you doing here?”

Starla flew into Rose’s open arms. The sisters hugged fiercely, looked at each other, then hugged again.

“I came to help,” Starla said. “Raj explained your predicament when he fetched Mama from the convent. We put our heads together and devised a plan that would allow you to return to Dragonwyck.”

“How? This is all so confusing.”

“‘Tis simple, really. I shall take your place so you can go home.”

Teary-eyed, Rose regarded her twin. “You would do that for me?”

“Why not? You sacrificed yourself for me.”

“I would never ask that of you, Starla.”

“I am offering, sister. Raj can sneak you out of the palace the same way he got us inside.”

“Are you sure? Very sure?”

Though Starla’s voice shook, she remained staunchly determined. “Aye.”.

“I will fetch fresh horses and return for you,” Raj said. “Bring only what you need for the journey. Lady Starla can wear what you leave behind, for she brought naught with her but the clothes on her back.”

Rose got out of bed and lit a candle. While she dressed and packed a few necessities into a pillowcase, Rose explained everything Starla would need to know. She began with Lillian, her maid, and continued through the list of people in the palace with whom she was likely to come into contact.

“No one will question your desire to remain in seclusion,” Rose explained.“The court is aware of my situation, and no one has intruded upon my privacy since word of Dragon’s imminent death reached the palace.

“There is a small garden behind the kitchen where I take daily walks,” Rose continued. “Ask Lillian to take you there. Should the king summon you to attend him, try to act as I would. Respect his station but do not appear too meek.” She paused, then blurted out, “Oh, Starla, I fear this will not work.”

“Of course it will. Tis not the first time I’ve pretended to be you. Hurry, Rose. You must be well away from the palace before it grows light.”

Rose grabbed up the pillowcase and gave Starla another hug. “Raj will return to you as soon as I reach Dragonwyck. Trust him to protect you. Remember everything I told you, and please pray for Dragon. He must live, for he is my life.”

“I will pray very hard for his survival,” Starla vowed. “You must love him a great deal, Rose. When he first arrived at Dragonwyck, he looked so fierce, so arrogant and sure of himself, that I feared for your life.If your volatile temper did not land you in trouble, I knew your sharp tongue would. I am glad you and Lord Dragon found common ground.”

“Heed me, Starla, there is something we have not discussed,” Rose said after a moment of thought. “Lady Veronica. Occasionally she attends court functions and tries her best to upset me. She is ever quick to remind me that she and Dragon were lovers, and that she is the woman he intended to wed. I cannot say if Dragon still has tender feelings for Veronica, but I am heartened that he calls my name in his delirium and not hers.”

“I will pray on that, too,” Starla confided. “Go now. Do not worry about me. I shall be fine.”

Rose moved toward the door.“I will never forget this, Starla.”

“Your generosity of spirit has made my dream come true. Soon I will become a nun. Have we not always helped one another? You are part of me, just as I am part of you.”

Fearing she would burst into tears, Rose opened the door and slipped through the opening. Though the corridor was dark, she sensed Raj’s presence and felt no fear when he grasped her hand.

“Follow me, mistress. Make no sound lest we alert the guards.”

Raj led Rose down the servants’ staircase and through a long corridor to the kitchen. They encountered no one, for Raj was careful to avoid the guards. A kitchen lad slept beside the hearth but did not stir as Raj guided Rose through the darkness and out the door into the garden. Rose had been this way so many times that she needed no light to guide her.

What Rose did not understand, however, was how Raj expected to get them out of the palace when the wall was far too high for them to scale. Once out in the moonlit garden, Rose gave voice to her doubts.

“Fear not, mistress,” Raj whispered. “On those days you walked and sat in the sun in this very same garden, I explored the perimeter and found a small postern gate grown over with vines and weeds and nearly invisible. One night I returned while the castle was sleeping and cut through the vines. I was pleased to discover that freedom lay beyond that small, forgotten gate and filed the knowledge in my memory for future use.”

“No wonder Dragon thinks highly of you,” Rose said.

“You are a good man to have around, Raj. Lead the way.”

Raj found the gate and fiddled with the latch. It opened with a loud creak. He pulled Rose through and carefully closed the gate. Rose’s mare and another horse were tethered within the shadow of the wall, calmly cropping grass. Raj gave Rose a leg up, mounted his own horse and whispered for Rose to wait until the guard on the battlement turned his back.

The delay seemed interminable, but finally Raj gave the signal and they trotted from the deep shadows and rode off into the dark night.

Exhaustion overtook Rose as the towers of Dragonwyck came into view. The pace Raj had set from London had been arduous but necessary. During the journey they had slept in abandoned huts and small village inns, but if the horses had not needed time to rest and recuperate, Rose would have forsaken sleep in her haste to reach Dragon.

“We are almost home, Raj,” Rose said anxiously. “What if Mama could not save Dragon? What if—”

“Do not speculate, mistress,” Raj admonished. “My master is a stubborn man. His will to live is stronger than the black specter of death.”