Guardian Dragons (6 page)

Amos winked agreement, offering
little Raphael a ride on his back.

‘Tally-ho then you seductive young
charmer,’ Amos teased as he galloped away with his precious load,
suspecting Raphael got lighter every time he carried him. He
promised himself he would spend more time with this spindly mite.
His love was strong for all of his kin but Raphael held a special
place in his heart. Aware of how much it pained his father to
accept this tender young son of his, who was a constant reminder of
his gentle wife’s death. He was not angry with his father and tried
to understand the King’s broken heart. Yet, for this, he loved
Raphael all the more, due to the absent love of a father and
mother.

The two brothers hurtled out of the
dining hall whooping and wailing with all the noise of a whole herd
of horses. They headed to the upper gardens to determine a suitable
spot for their impending battle.

Leon remained alone, finishing the
rest of his meal he recalled the many fierce battles he had staged
with Raphael and his wooden soldiers, his little brother always
victorious. Pangs of sorrow wrenched at his heart for his brother’s
illness, he would have made a fine officer and an excellent
strategist in the real field of battle.

Gulping down the last dregs of his milky drink, he turned
his head attempting to listen to a shuffling noise from the rear of
the large hall, which was now empty of diners. He stood up and
stretched his legs into a slow wide stride to see through the
opened doorway, in case someone was trying to get his attention.
The door was still open since his brothers had left. Glimpsing
through it and peering down the hall, he could see no sign of
activity.
Ignoring the
imaginary disturbance, he continued walking towards the descending
stairway where he planned to head towards the busy kitchens. If he
left the palace through one of the servants’ doorways, no one would
notice him. Dashing down the spiraling stairway, he very nearly
sent a young maid falling as she carried a wicker basket filled
with brightly coloured peppers and fruits to a guest’s room. He
inhaled the tangy aroma of oranges as his nose brushed with the
sharp edges of the basket. Bending his middle in a most peculiar
manner, he managed to allow her to pass without any further mishap.
Laughing at his clumsy dilemma, the maid gave him a cheeky wink.
His cheeks flushed as the pretty girl continued up the steps to do
her day’s duty.

Slowing his pace a little, he
approached the busy kitchens where many young maids balanced pots
and trays, he did not want to draw any more attention to himself.
Cleverly, he sneaked by Clara the cook who was brashly instructing
a poor frail girl on how to knead bread dough correctly as none of
her previous batches had risen. The savoury aromas of sage gravy
and garlic-roasted meats caused the insides of his mouth to
salivate pleasurably. Unable to resist pinching a small freshly
baked warm bread roll, from a tray that stood on a table to cool by
the doorway, he quickened his pace aware that he still had to pass
through the lower gardens and the courtyard.

He had every intention of meeting
with Heather. He also had every intention of trying to talk her out
of the foolish activity she was about to attempt. She was always
one to seek a challenge and he knew full well that she would insist
on completing the entire task and would thoroughly enjoy all the
dangers it entailed. He knew his attempts to stop her would be
futile.

Chapter 8 A Young Lady’s
Rituals

‘E
very wakening is the
same,’ Heather muttered miserably. ‘I am expected to sit in
absolute silence while you pull every hair out of my scalp.
Ouch!’

‘Ah me lady, I brush at your hair for your own good.’
Gloria had been Heather’s nursemaid since she was a babe and simply
would not listen to any complaints that the young girl chose to
throw at
her. ‘It doesn’t do
to have a head full of tugs and knots. Who knows what little
creatures may take residence in there,’ she explained whilst
lovingly but thoroughly brushing the top of Heather’s beautiful
golden, shiny head. Gradually it would become a harder tug as she
made her way down the long wavy strands that curled to a finish at
Heather’s waist.

Goodness knows what this girl must
get up to every moonwake to have such a head full of tangles, when
with each turn of the moons, tidy plaits were lovingly created by
Gloria’s own gentle hands.

‘The devil be at work in your hair
me girl, to bring you home at the end of every moonwake in such
chaos and disarray,’ this was Gloria’s favourite chorus that she
would sing daily during this agonising ritual.

‘I’m famished Gloria,’ Heather
pleaded. ‘Now please, do hurry so I can go, then my insides will
stop from churning from hunger so much. Even my dog Frizzle has
gone off to feed without me this moonwake!’

Heather had a vision of her
beautiful long haired white dog enjoying whatever tidbits he could
muster out of the Academy kitchens and not even giving her one
thought. He was so disloyal, leaving her to suffer alone while he
filled his belly.

‘You’re the Head Mage’s daughter,
with certain responsibilities me lady,’ Gloria reminded her. ‘That
means your hair must shine from moonwake until moonsleep. As we
cannot see your belly then that will have to take second place to
those bits that we can see’.

‘You’re a hard woman Gloria,’
Heather retorted sulkily. ‘I love you dearly but you are a thorn in
my side. I have no memory in my life of when you were not tugging
at my hair or puffing up my sleeves. Are you to be my lifetime of
punishment?’

‘You’ll not be rid of me that easy girl,’ her maid sternly
chimed. ‘Tis my job to see that a young lady is properly dressed
and well presented for the world to witness her beauty. There will
never be a moonwake in your life when I’m not involved in ensuring
that this task is completed.’ She sighed impatiently at a clump of
hair that would not go into place. Every which way she plaited, the
strands
just insisted on
trying to escape her attentions. She was convinced that Heather’s
hair was as mischievous as the girl herself.

Heather sat staring at her own
reflection in the oval shaped mirror. A young girl of seventeen
suncircles with freckles all over the bridge of her small pert
nose, stared back at her. Her rosy cheeks always shone to match her
cherry lips. The lines of her lips were clear-cut, almost as if
drawn by a loving artist. A small flat forehead boasted light brown
eyebrows that protected her impish emerald green eyes. Long black
lashes flickered as she blinked and often she squeezed them tightly
shut when sulking for her father. Pouting her bottom lip, she
imitated brooding features into the mirror. Well, she did feel
utterly miserable and would continue with this exhibition until
Gloria announced she could go.

In her dreamy daze a memory stirred
of why she had awoken with a thrill of excitement this moonwake.
Leon had better keep his promise or she would never speak to him
again.

Gloria finally finished the arduous
ceremony of pampering her head with pins and things. Once Gloria
had made the momentous decision of what clothing she should wear
for the moonwake, she would promptly hasten after Frizzle to grab
some porridge. Then she planned to dart out of the Scholarship
Academy, where she lived, as quickly as her long legs would carry
her. She had a date to keep and Leon had a promise to
keep.

Chapter 9 Sea
Whistle

L
eon just knew he was
captured good and proper.

‘Which one of my grandsons is not
wishing his grandmother a good moonwake?’ a croaky female voice
strained to be heard within the Lower Gardens.

He would have to plan a quick
escape as soon as he was able.

‘Good moonwake Grandma Dahlia,’ he
politely replied to his grandmother’s request. ‘Tis only me, Leon.
But Amos and Raphael are in the Upper Gardens if you wish to join
them,’ he dared to suggest, hopeful that she would fall for his
little ploy.

‘Nonsense child,’ a rumbling reply came from the little old
lady. ‘Come. Come. You know perfectly well I am happy for any of my
grandchildren to join me in my garden strolls. You can keep
me
company for a short while.
Now do come here child and let us talk awhile.’

There was no escape. Providing she
did not keep him too long, he would still make it in time to meet
with Heather, he may as well accept his fate. He took pleasure in
the knowledge that Grandma Dahlia did indeed love the company of
her grandchildren and his love for her far outweighed his need for
haste. He walked over to his grandmother and her maid and joined
them, heading for a seat in the gardens.

‘I’ll bet that you’re headed for a
secret rendezvous with your little friend Heather, aren’t you?’ she
asked.

‘I don’t know how you do it
grandma, but you seem to know everything.’

‘Indeed I do. I make it my
business to know what my grandchildren are up to.’ She was very
protective of them, all the more since their mother had died. They
had not wanted for female love as she had plenty in her heart to
share.

‘Now then, come and sit beside me
whilst I tell you a tale of when your mother and Heather’s mother
used to get up to mischief together. And they were not children you
know, just impudent young women with nothing better to do, than
create havoc.’

Grandma Dahlia loved nothing better
than to recall the days when his mother Elma had first married her
son, King Alfred. The Head Mage Heimarl’s wife Minnah had
befriended his mother and they became inseparable
friends.

‘Your mother had somehow managed
to sneak off with Alfred’s Huphin sea whistle. You know the
Shankhall whistle that we all hold a great secret.’

Settling himself on the grass in
front of his Grandma Dahlia and her maid he readied himself for her
memories that he held so very dear.

‘Well, your mother Elma and Minnah ran off to the coastline
and made up a tune on the magic whistle.’ Grandma Dahlia threw up
her arms as she told the story with her usual dramatic vigour.
‘They called up the biggest octopus the sea has ever known.’ She
also tended to exaggerate all the details delightfully. ‘They were
absolutely petrified. The octopus was furious that they had
stirred
him from his sleep.
Told them exactly what he thought of them, playing with such an
important instrument. Then he promptly sprayed them with a magic
ink and they both became totally invisible. Panicking, they dared
not return home as they knew their husbands would discover their
mischievous deed.’

Grandma Dahlia paused for breath
and Leon smiled with a vision of the two young ladies dilemma. Not
much dissimilar to the mischievous deeds he and Heather got up
to.

‘Well, the Palace and the Academy
were in uproar as to where the two had vanished to. Ha! Vanish
being the key word my boy. They both came to my chambers and gave
me such a fright, hearing voices without any bodies gave me such a
turn, I can tell you.’

‘So what did you do grandma?’ Leon
asked laughing heartily. He was keen to know the outcome of his
mother’s dilemma. ‘And how long were they invisible
for?’

‘One thing at a time my boy, one
thing at a time,’ not wanting to end her tale by telling it too
quickly, she always delayed the ‘grand finale’ as much as she
could. ‘The palace was in chaos as guards and servants alike
searched from dungeons to towers with orders to find them. Well,
the guards were getting so used to their Queen’s misdemeanors, that
they really didn’t make that much of an effort in their searches,
they just pretended for the sake of their King. The captain, of
course, came directly to me. He knew I would have an inkling of
what his Queen was up to. He was always very discreet, so I told
him what had happened. We had no idea how long they would remain
invisible and none of us could come up with any
solution.’

‘Oh dear, grandma, I think I can
see where this is leading to,’ guessing that this was one of those
ventures that the King would have to be informed about. ‘Did father
take it badly?’

‘In those days your father was so besotted with his young
wife and equally the Head Mage Heimarl was in total adoration of
his wife Minnah, that neither was capable of being angry. It took
Hiemarl a whole moonwake before he finally found a counter spell
that could reverse the effects of the sea magic. How long it would
have lasted no one knows and none dare to call upon their
friends
the sea Huphins for
help, for a while, for fear of their wrath at the misuse of the
magic sea whistle.’

Leon laughed with his grandma at
these pleasant memories. His own memories were few, he had been a
youngster of only six suncircles when his mother had given birth to
Raphael and lost her fight for life. He knew that he had loved her
and he had kept a lock of her hair to touch whenever he thought of
her.

‘Run along now boy,’ his
grandmother ordered suddenly. ‘Don’t keep that girl waiting or who
knows what she’ll get up to on her own. Like her mother, she needs
a man around to keep her controlled.’