Authors: Bertrice Small

The Dragon Lord's Daughters (18 page)

BOOK: The Dragon Lord's Daughters

11.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ads

In the morning they ate the remainder of their food, but for two oat cakes and two apples. The horses were well rested, and watered. They had spent their night in the shelter of the cave away from any marauding animals, and were fed a measure of oats carried by their masters. They were ready for the day's journey that lay ahead of them.

“We should reach my castle by sunset,” Emrys Llyn told his companion.

“Does it have a name?” demanded the Dragon Lord.

“Ile du Lac,” the Lord of the Lake answered. “Lancelot named it.”

Merin Pendragon grunted in acknowledgement.

When the sun had reached its zenith at midday they stopped and ate their scant rations while resting the horses. The countryside was very wild and very desolate and grew more so as the afternoon progressed. They had passed no cottages since midday yesterday.

“Who claims this land?” the Dragon Lord asked.

Emrys Llyn shrugged. “The great families argue back and forth over it, but no one ever comes here, my lord. I have no idea who now owns, or believes he owns, this land. It is good for little but perhaps hunting.”

“How near are we to Ile du Lac?” Merin asked.

“Soon,” came the answer. “Another hill or two. See, the sun is already preparing to make its descent.”

“Good!” Merin Pendragon said. “I am loath to admit it, but I am not as young as I once was. I am ready for a hot meal and a comfortable bed.”

“You shall have them soon, my lord,” Emrys Llyn promised.

Another hour passed, and as the sun slipped towards the horizon they made their descent into a small valley taken up entirely by a beautiful deep blue lake. The hills were forested about them. The horses slowly picked their way downward until they had reached the shoreline. They stopped, and Emrys Llyn put a horn that had been hanging from his waist to his lips, and blew. The sound echoed in the clear air, and almost at once a flat-bottomed ferry came towards them from the shore of the island that sat in the midst of the waters. There was no ferryman, however.

The Lord of the Lake saw his companion's astonishment. He smiled, and then said, “I hope you will forgive me a bit of magic, Merin Pendragon. I cannot resist showing off now and again.”

“Is it safe to travel in such a conveyance?” the Dragon Lord asked.

“Quite safe for us, and for the horses,” he was assured as the small vessel neatly bumped the sandy beach before them.

“This is a most convenient magic you possess,” the Dragon Lord remarked dryly.

Emrys Llyn laughed as he gently urged his horse aboard the ferry. “Come,” he said. “The sun is near to setting, and I would show you my hospitality. Maia will be most happy here, my lord.”

“Well, I will agree that the setting is a beautiful one,” Merin Pendragon answered. “And you will swear to me that this is all real, and not some illusion you have wrought?”

“It is as real as your own Dragon's Lair. I swear it on the Blessed Mother and her son Jesu, Merin Pendragon. I have not the magic of the Lady of the Lake, but what magic I do possess, I use only for the good.”

The Dragon Lord urged his horse onto the little ferry next to Emrys Llyn and his mount. At once the ferry began to move, and it skimmed swiftly across to the island where the castle stood, twinkling lights glittering from its narrow windows.

When they had reached the far shore there were servants awaiting them to lead them down a path from the lake's edge through a field of flowers to the castle itself. Within the courtyard of the edifice they dismounted, and their horses were taken away.

“Welcome home, my lord!” a smiling majordomo said as he hurried forward. “We did not expect you so soon.”

“This is Merin Pendragon, the Dragon Lord himself, Sion,” Emrys Llyn said.

The majordomo bowed low. “I welcome the descendant of the great Arthur, my lord,” he said.

“You have served your master long?” Merin asked, curious.

“My family has always served in the house of the Lord of the Lake, my lord,” Sion answered.

“Are the servants here real, or fairy?” Merin persisted.

Sion smiled again. “Some are real, as you put it. Some are fairy. And some of the servants are both, my lord. Is that not the way in all the world? Now, if you will follow me, my lords, the supper will be ready to be served.” Turning, he led them from the entrance of the castle and into a great hall.

Merin Pendragon gaped noticeably about the chamber. It was large. There were great beams that were carved, painted and gilded, holding up the roof. High arched windows lined two sides of the room. On a sunny day it would be bright and cheerful. There were three enormous stone fireplaces, each flanked on either side with tall carved stone knights in full armor who held their swords before them, pointed down. Enormous tapestries hung on either side of the fireplace behind the high board. They depicted King Arthur and his court going about their various pursuits. The high board itself was made of hard oak, and the table was blackened with its many years, but well polished.

Merin Pendragon sat himself at his host's right hand without being asked to do so. “Your hall is magnificent,” he said quietly.

“There was a day when it would have been filled with knights, and visitors from all lands come to pay homage to the Lady of the Lake, and her mate, Lancelot. Those times are long gone,” Emrys Llyn said. “Still, the hall remains a reminder of those times.” There was a sadness in his voice when he spoke.

“I am weary from our journey,” Merin Pendragon said. “I would eat, and find a bed, but tomorrow will you show me about this great castle of yours?”

“Gladly!” Emrys Llyn said. “You will see that Maia will be content here.”

“Perhaps, but what of companions for her? Your home is beautiful, but lonely, Emrys Llyn,” the Dragon Lord noted. “My daughter has grown up in a household of women, and is used to their company. What will happen when you get her with child? Who will be here to nurture and aid her? To calm her natural fears?”

“Maia is not afraid of my magic, my lord. When she desires companions they will be supplied for her. The Fair Folk are good souls, and she will easily find friends among them. She will have ladies aplenty, I promise you.”

The Dragon Lord nodded. It would take some getting used to, this magical world into which his daughter would come. He thought of the majordomo's remark that some here were fairy, and some were not, and some were both. How did one tell? But then he turned his attentions to the fine meal being served.

The salmon was served with dill. There were oysters and fat prawns. And where had they come from so far from the sea? He decided he didn't care. There was roasted venison and wild forest boar. Capon in a sauce of dried berries; a duck in a sauce made from plums. The rabbit pie had a flaky golden crust. Merin Pendragon ate until he could eat no more, or so he believed. And then a bowl of roasted apples covered in heavy golden cream was brought to table, along with a platter of pears that had been sliced in half lengthwise, and sat in a sauce of rich wine and spices. Delicate little sugar wafers were set before him, and his wine cup was never allowed to be empty. Unable to help himself, he ate both apples and pears. When he belched afterwards it was a mixture of wine and cinnamon, and he smiled, well satisfied.

“I apologize for the simplicity of the meal,” his host said, “but as Sion said, we were not expected.”

The Dragon Lord laughed aloud. “Your jest is noted, Emrys Llyn. The meal was the finest I have ever eaten. Your cook is obviously fairy.”

“Nay, he is but real folk, but he does have a talent for his work,” the Lord of the Lake said.

Merin Pendragon stood up. “Now, I should like to find my bed,” he said.

The majordomo was immediately at his side. “Allow me to show you, my lord,” he said, bowing.

“Lead on, my good Sion,” was the jovial reply, and the Dragon Lord followed Sion from the great hall of Ile du Lac. If his bed was as good as his meal, he would have no complaint. He was already beginning to think more kindly of Emrys Llyn. Everything he had seen so far would indicate that his daughter would be happy and comfortable. If only he might solve the mystery of the unfortunate deaths of the Lord of the Lake's first two wives.

The chamber to which he was shown was spacious. The windows overlooked the lake. The fireplace was ablaze, and there was water for washing. There was wine on a sideboard table.

“Is there anything I can get you, my lord?” Sion asked him.

The Dragon Lord saw his saddle pack set neatly on a stool. “No,” he replied. “Thank you, Sion.”

“Then I wish you a good night, my lord,” the majordomo said, bowing himself from the chamber and closing the door behind him.

Merin Pendragon sat down on the edge of the curtained bed, and slowly pulled off his boots. He set them by the stool, and drawing off his cotte he lay it atop his pack. He disrobed no further, for this was a strange house, and while he felt he was safe from harm, one never knew. Climbing into the great bed he left the bed curtains open, and lay back. From what he had seen so far it was all perfect. But was it too perfect? he considered.
Tomorrow,
he thought.
Tomorrow I will be able to better judge. I am weary with our traveling. My head will be clearer in the morning. Tomorrow I shall make my decision.
He slept peacefully, and without dreams.

In the morning he arose at first light, and bathed himself, for he had not done it the previous evening before sleeping. He opened his pack, and was surprised to find not only a clean chemise, but a simple clean cotte folded up tightly. Smiling, he shook it out, thinking he must remember to thank Argel when he returned to Dragon's Lair. A man always felt more confident in clean garments. He took his worn chemise and used it to polish his boots free of dust and dirt before he pulled them on again. When he had completed his toilette he departed the chamber, and easily found his way back down to the great hall where his host was already at table. The morning meal was as tasty as the previous meal had been.

Finally Emrys Llyn said, “You will want to see all of my home now, I expect, my lord.” He arose from his seat. “Come, and I will show you.”

Merin Pendragon stood up, and followed the younger man. The Dragon Lord quickly discovered that while the castle was small, Ile du Lac was well thought out. There was a chamber where the lord kept scrolls and bound books, many of them obviously quite old. The kitchens were below the great hall, and there was a stone shaft with a platform within it that was raised and lowered by means of a rope and pulley. This, Emrys Llyn explained, was how food arrived in the hall hot, and how the dishes and platters were quickly cleared away. In the kitchens below the Dragon Lord saw the usual activity of a kitchen. The servants there smiled and nodded at their master and his guest as they passed by. There was a buttery and a pantry, and a cold room where game and game birds were hung.

Above the great hall there was a large master chamber, and several small but spacious chambers, including his own. In each of the four corners of the second story there were stairs leading to each of the castle's four towers. His old nursemaid, Drysi, lived in the south tower, Emrys Llyn explained.

“She is very ancient, having looked after others of my family,” he explained. “She rarely leaves her rooms, and all her meals are brought to her. Would you like to meet her? I know she would consider it an honor to meet a descendant of King Arthur.”

“I would, indeed,” Merin Pendragon replied. This spoke well of Emrys Llyn that he housed and respected an elderly retainer.
I was right to insist on coming to Ile du Lac,
he thought.
I can learn much about this man just being here.
He followed his host up the steep and winding staircase to a door.

Emrys Llyn knocked upon the dark, worn oak portal, which was opened by a smiling young girl who curtsied.

“My lord! Drysi will be pleased that you have come.” She ushered them into the chamber where an old woman sat in a high backed chair.

The eyes that looked out at them were a sharp, faded blue and the skin on her face wrinkled with age. She was a tiny woman and it was obvious that her back was crooked and hunched. She beckoned them forward with a rather imperious wave of her bony hand. “Come! Come! Let me see this seed of the great king,” she said.

Merin Pendragon stepped forward and gave the old woman a courtly bow. “You know me,” he said.

“Have I not ears to hear?” she asked him.

“Drysi knows everything that goes on at Ile du Lac,” Emrys Llyn said in an affectionate amused tone of voice. “Sometimes she knows before even I know,” he teased his old nursemaid.

Drysi cackled. “ 'Tis a truth,” she admitted. Then she looked again at the Dragon Lord. “So, my lord, your daughter would wed with my master.”

“And he would wed with her,” Merin Pendragon responded quietly.

BOOK: The Dragon Lord's Daughters

11.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Read Book Download Book

ads