Read The Crown and the Dragon Online
Authors: John D. Payne
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Science Fiction & Fantasy
He took a deep breath.
“Been away a long time,” Aedin said, heavily. “She’d started another family with another man.”
“I’m sorry.”
Aedin nodded, silently. Then he pounded his fist on the wooden doorframe. “Every confounded time I have something in my hands it slips away.”
He strode quickly back to her and took her in his arms. He looked into her eyes for the briefest of moments and then kissed her once, gently, on the lips.
Elenn heard the sound of footsteps behind her.
“My Lady of Adair?” said an acolyte.
Elenn turned, and Aedin released her. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his expression so sad it broke her heart.
He walked away, and Elenn watched him, her fingers touching her lips.
***
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Elenn watched Aedin leave, walking so swiftly he almost ran. Why was he so eager to leave? What was he afraid of?
“My Lady of Adair?” asked the acolyte again, standing waiting behind her. “I am sorry to interrupt. But the Leodrine Mother is down in the courtyard for the Vigil of the Paladin. She saw you watching from the window and asked if you would like to come down and join her.”
“That’s very kind,” said Elenn, “but I will be returning to bed shortly. Will you please convey my regrets to the Mother?”
“Of course,” said the young nun, and she departed with a curtsey.
Elenn returned to the window, still holding the book Aedin had handed her. As the sisters below performed the ritual, lightning flashed and thunder crashed. Elenn sighed. Half of her was angry at Aedin for kissing her, and the other half was angry at him for not staying to kiss her more. It was all so confusing.
Elenn looked down at the book in her hands, the book her adopted mother had read to her. She ran her hand over the cover and smiled. Just touching it made her feel better. Maybe she could find an answer inside. Elenn closed her eyes and opened the book to a random page.
She opened her eyes. The illustration was one of ravens swirling in the sky, which reminded Elenn uncomfortably of the monster she and Aedin had faced above the Cataracts. What had it wanted with them? Where had it come from, and where had it gone? Would it come for her again? Elenn shivered and flipped the pages.
This time she stopped on a picture of a rocky beach. In the sky, a dragon lurked. Below the monster stood an armored Paladin atop the rocks, reaching out toward the sea. Below him in the water were nymphs, holding up the Falarica, their mouths open as if to speak. Or to sing.
Elenn frowned. What had she seen in the water, while she was drowning? Were they water nymphs? Or had it all been the imagination of a dying girl? She closed her eyes, trying to remember. The faces and forms were vague and elusive, but the song was nearly within the grasp of memory.
It had been a divine blend of harmonies, intricate counterpoints woven together in a complex pattern. Was there a single melody at the center of it all? She hummed, trying to find the tune. In her mind, she could almost hear the nymphs joining in.
A terrible, inhuman scream shattered her concentration and her eyes snapped open. Where had the sound come from? No one was in the hall with her. Looking through the window to the courtyard below, she saw nothing unusual, and no sign of distress. Nothing but the Sisters, and the storm.
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, as the boom of thunder shook the Leode. For an instant Elenn saw the head of the dragon, filling her whole field of vision, its mouth agape as if it would swallow her whole. Elenn dropped the book, but the image was gone faster than the blink of an eye.
“Something is wrong,” Elenn whispered to herself.
Someone behind her whispered an inaudible reply.
Elenn whirled around, but no one was there.
“Who’s there?” Elenn said, her voice shaky. “Show yourself!”
In the patter of the rain, Elenn heard more whispers. But no matter where she turned, she saw no one.
“Leave me alone!” Elenn cried.
The whispers increased in number and in volume until they filled her ears, like the roar of the sea.
“What do you want from me?” Elenn hissed.
The whispers stopped abruptly. Then Elenn heard Ethelind as clearly as if she were standing in front of her.
“You are the Paladin.”
“I must be dreaming,” Elenn said, “or going mad.” She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. As she did, the lightning struck again, and she saw more images—ravens cawing furiously, the Leodrine telling her to have faith, and herself holding the broken pieces of the Falarica. The images were gone before the thunder.
Elenn sank against a nearby wall. Her legs would no longer hold her. Her vision was fading to black. As she lost consciousness, the last thing she was aware of was the distant sound of that same inhuman scream. For some reason, it made her think of the sea.
Back in his chambers, Aedin angrily struck the stout wooden door with his fist. It hurt even more than when he had punched the door frame upstairs in the tapestry hall.
“What is wrong with me?” he asked himself, shaking his painfully bruised hand.
Stealing that kiss had been a mistake—sweet and tender, but foolish. A high-born lady was not going to give her heart to an outlaw. When the thrill faded, she would realize that he couldn’t offer her comfort or security. She would return to her own kind, and he would be nothing but a memory of youthful adventure to savor on rainy days, lounging in silks in one of her husband’s palatial estates.
So why hadn’t he just left her alone? It was so stupid. Aedin blew out his breath in frustration. He pulled back his foot to kick the bed, but remembered his aching hand and thought better of it.
Instead, Aedin packed up his meager belongings. He put on the quilted Sithian jack, and shoved the Sithian dagger in his belt. The Halsing’s great sword he strapped to his back, trying not to think about how very many of his possessions were stolen from dead men.
Aedin paused as he looked over the ragged clothes he had worn to the Leode. The clothing had been cleaned, but none of it was better than what the Sisters had given him to wear. He held up his old jacket, now missing the lace which he had wound around Elenn’s arm when they danced.
Aedin tossed the ragged clothes on the floor and shoved the last of his food into his leather sack. The last thing in the room was a letter of credit from the Leodrine Mother, who had convinced him to abandon his claim on Elenn’s lands in exchange for a small fortune in silver. All he had to do was get back to Heortigsport and he could claim the silver from a merchant bank. He folded up the letter of credit and put it in a small leather purse he carried on a string around his neck.
Throwing his sack over his shoulder, Aedin walked out of the chamber. He closed the door quietly and hesitated. He glanced upward. One floor up, Elenn might still be in the great hall.
Aedin shook his head. “You already said goodbye, idiot,” he muttered to himself. “And then some.”
He walked to the door which led to the courtyard and the main gatehouse. As he reached to open it, the door flew wide and he had to jump back to avoid being struck.
“Watch it!” he growled. “What’s the big rush?”
“I’m sorry, my child,” said the Leodrine Mother, who bustled past him, her long robes gathered in her hands so she could run. “It’s Elenn.”
“Elenn? What?” asked Aedin, dashing after her.
“There’s no time to explain,” the Leodrine said breathlessly, as she hurried up the narrow stone stairway.
They rushed together to the great hall, where Aedin instantly saw Elenn collapsed in a heap near the window where he had left her. He ran to her side and picked her up, cradling her head in his arms.
Elenn did not seem aware of him. She looked pale in the torch light. Her head tossed restlessly, and her mouth worked as if she were trying to speak. Aedin put his ear to her lips but he could not understand her almost-inaudible mutters.
The Leodrine Mother reached him and knelt at his side. “Not as light on my feet as I used to be, I’m afraid,” she said. “How is she?”
“Don’t know,” said Aedin. “What’s wrong with her?”
The Leodrine Mother placed her hands on Elenn’s face, feeling her forehead and cheeks. She gently opened Elenn’s eyes, and Aedin could see that the girl’s pupils were dancing about wildly.
“She is in the Glyderinge,” the Leodrine pronounced, “the world of spirit.”
“But that’s for Elders and … prophets with … long beards,” said Aedin. “She’s barely at the age of inheritance.”
“And yet she is the Paladin,” said the Leodrine soberly.
“What, Elenn?”
“Yes,” she said. “She will deliver us through the power of the Gods. But while she is lost in her dream quest, she needs our aid and protection.” She looked deep into his eyes. “Aedin Jeoris, will you help her?”
“Whatever it takes,” he said.
“You’re ready to travel, I see. Good. Take her immediately to Lough Aislinn. There’s no time to spare.”
“At once,” said Aedin. “But why?”
“There is a hermit there,” she said, “on the northeast shore, close to the Narrows, south of a ruined monastery. He is the last member of a dying Order. He will guide her through her anointing.”
Aedin nodded. “I’ll get her there, even if I have to carry her every step of the way.” He stood, lifting Elenn in his arms. “A horse would help.”
“Of course,” she said. “Come with me to the stables.”
Aedin shifted his grip and nodded. Before he could take a step, he heard a scream from the courtyard below.
More screams followed as the Leodrine Mother rushed to the window.
“This can not be!” she cried. “Vitalion soldiers inside the Leode? How is this possible? Who let them in?”
Leaning forward as best he could without dropping Elenn, Aedin looked over the Leodrine’s shoulder. The storm had stopped, and the moon shone clear on the scene below. At the main gatehouse, fighting men wearing the emblem of the Leode clashed with Vitalion soldiers.
The defenders fought hard, but the portcullis was already up, permitting the entry of a small column of Vitalion heavy cavalry. The Scales attacked guards and Sisters alike, riding them down and slashing with their narrow, curved swords. One scale-armored soldier had lost his helm. It was Leif—laughing like a madman and already covered with blood.
Aedin cursed. Then he cursed again as he saw two figures of shadow emerging from the gatehouse. They were clothed in dark robes, and long black talons extended from their sleeves.
“We have to get out of here,” Aedin said. “Seen those things before. Monsters… made of… crows.” He grimaced, knowing he sounded like a fool.
“The Naihmant of Uran,” said the Leodrine. “Demons. Walking nightmares. That explains how the Vitalion got in, but it reveals a hundred new mysteries.”
A Vitalion officer in a purple cape looked up in their direction. He pointed at them and shouted something in Vitalae. Four soldiers jumped off their horses and ran across the courtyard, cutting down anyone in their way.
“They’ve seen us!” the Leodrine Mother said. She shut and locked the window and dashed out of the hall.
He tried to run after her, but with Elenn in his arms the best he could do was to lumber awkwardly down the corridor. She was as limp and heavy as a deer carcass. Aedin couldn’t help but think about his pursuers. Were the doors leading out of the courtyard barricaded? How long would it take the crow monsters to get in through the windows? He feared that the answers to these questions would come as a stab in the back.
“That was Magister Corvus himself,” said the Leodrine pausing for a moment at the top of a staircase. “No surprise. He has searched out more Paladin lore than anyone else in Deira—maybe even me. You must not let Elenn fall into his hands.”
Aedin nodded wordlessly, breathing heavily. “Stables?”
“No,” she said, hurrying down the stairs, “we’d never make it. Never fear. There’s another way.”
At the bottom of the stairs, he saw her beckoning to him from a door down the hall. When he had carried Elenn inside, the Leodrine barred the door behind them. It was a dusty storage room, lined with barrels and chests. The only light came from a small oil lamp hanging from a hook in the wall.
“Help me with this,” said the old Sister, trying to move a trunk even larger than she was.
Aedin laid Elenn gently on the stone floor and helped the Leodrine push the heavy trunk in front of the door. As the two of them shoved more chests and barrels into place, Aedin saw Elenn’s fingers tremble and clutch at the air.
“Think she’s waking up. Is that normal?”
“It’s too early,” said the Leodrine. “She won’t wake for hours—perhaps days.” She lifted up a trapdoor in the floor that had been hidden by the barrels.
“Unless you’ve got a horse down there,” he said, piling another chest onto the barricade, “it’s going to take a long flaming time to haul her all the way to the Lough like this.”
“So quick to lose hope?” she asked. “You are her sworn protector. You above all people must have faith, even in the darkest hours.”
“Sorry, Mother.” He picked Elenn up in his arms. “A blessing before we depart?”
The Leodrine smiled. She interlocked her fingers and placed her hands on the crown of Elenn’s head. “Blessings of the Gods on you both. May they give you the strength you need to do what you must.”
“So let it be,” Aedin whispered. Throwing his shoulders back and straightening up, he felt new energy flowing into his muscles. Perhaps responding to this movement, Elenn shifted in his arms. Her eyes fluttered and she murmured something that sounded like his name.
“Is she—?”
The castle suddenly shook, and a terrible roar pierced through the stone walls. Aedin had heard this sound before, but never so loud. It was the dragon.
“Her fulfillment has drawn the dragon to us,” said the Leodrine mother. “They are linked now. It will not rest until one destroys the other.” She hesitated and then pulled the wooden Falarica case from within her robes and handed it to him. “You are the protector now, and what you carry is precious. Be careful.”