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Chapter 5

  • I woke, the warmth of Aurien’s skin under the palm of my hand. He slept naked again, and I had wrapped around and pressed myself against him like a limpet. It was nice, I thought, his big body against mine was warm and we fit exactly so, as if we were made to lie this way. It would be even nicer, skin to skin.
  • I wondered if he would taste as good as he smelled. I could feel beneath my fingertips the golden hair that curled across his chest, and the rise and fall as he breathed. I very much wanted to slide my hand down the tight plane of his stomach, along the valleys that delineated his stomach muscles, and through the golden hair that curled darker just above…
  • I managed to peel myself off from him very carefully, so as not to wake him, my heart beating frantically and my body aching with unfamiliar need. Whatever he was, this man, whatever type of brethren, he was an irresistible temptation to me. It explained why he would live alone in a dragon’s cave if he had this effect on every female.
  • I went to the kitchen and used the bucket and scoop to clean the ashes from the fireplace and stacked the wood ready in the hearth. As I returned from casting the ashes off the ledge, the torches in the main cavern were lit, as was the fireplace, and Aurien was dressed and preparing oatmeal.
  • He regarded me with inscrutable violet eyes as he handed me the pot. I hung it off the hook and swung it over the flames, standing with the spoon to stir it as it cooked, whilst he prepared berries. He did not speak, and the silence that fell between us was heavy with tension. Did he know? I wondered. Did he know about the effect he had on women, on me? Had he woken to find me wrapped around him?
  • “I left Uyan Taesil two weeks ago,” I said to break it, because if he spoke, I feared what he would say. “I rode first to the temples, to see the Seers of Seigradh. They advised that I needed to seek the Fae Court, so I tried the normal things from hearth tales. I hunted down mushroom rings, I wore blue in enchanted forests, I went to known Fae hills and monuments, sunken roads and wishing wells.
  • “Clareath sent soldiers in pursuit of me, and so I was forced to cross the border into these lands. I went to the Graceplains and slept amongst the standing stones for three nights before hearing word of a good-witch, in a little village called Benal, who was known to have connections with the Fae.
  • “It was she who sent me here, to seek out the dragon,” I used a rag to lift the pot off the fire and served the oats into the two bowls he placed before me. His eyes watched me, his expression unreadable, and he did not interrupt, but simply absorbed the information I gave him. “I guess the Fae don’t find me appealing.”
  • I filled the pot with water and returned it to the fire before sitting across from him at the table.
  • “My brother makes an annual pilgrimage to the Seers, to seek guidance for the year ahead. This year, he did not make it to them. He sickened on the road. His company encountered Clareath whilst they tended him. She is from these lands and says that she was driven from her kingdom by Dark Elves and the Fae,” I added berries to our bowls. “Mathhian married her right there, on the roadside.
  • “My brother’s illness grew persistently worse upon his return, defying the treatments administered by our healers. Clareath, as Queen, began to assume more and more responsibility and power,” I stirred the oats in my bowl fretfully, releasing their steam.
  • “The brethren of the castle disappeared first, and it was just a… curiosity. Something whispered like gossip between courtiers.” I drew in a deep breath. “When my maid went missing, I knew something was amiss. I made my way into the dungeons, and…” A tear made its way down my cheek and landed in the oats. I stirred it in. “I couldn’t save them.”
  • “Your brother’s new wife is poisoning him,” Aurien observed coolly, seeming unmoved by my story. “And it would be your Elven blood protecting you from the Fae when you trespass. They would not consider it such, because you are part brethren.”
  • “The Elven is so far removed, I didn’t even consider that.” I confessed. “And, yes, I know that Clareath is poisoning Mathhian. But no one else would believe me. Every time I said it was so, it seemed to make me look more unbalanced and I feared that I would find myself locked up…” I gestured helplessly. “But I couldn’t just stand by and… watch.”
  • He frowned over his empty bowl and did not speak.
  • “I need the dragon’s help,” I pleaded with the golden-haired man. “I need to help the brethren of Uyan Taesil. You cannot even imagine what horrors are being wrought upon them,” I reached across the table and touched his hand. He did not pull away but seemed to freeze under my touch. “Please, Aurien.”
  • “I fought against Phimion, Clareath’s ancestor,” he said quietly, his eyes on our hands. “I know very well the horrors that you speak of. It took many years and several species of brethren being brought to the verge of extinction, the dragons included, to get the Fae Court to take action. A handful of castle servants will not move them to mercy, Liera.”
  • “I have to at least get to the Fae Court and try,” I persisted. “I cannot just… pretend it’s not happening.”
  • “Wash the dishes,” he turned his hand very slowly until his fingers curled around my hand. “And sweep the floor. Then resume sorting the treasure, and you may stay another night.”
  • “Thank you,” I said with gratitude, and rose to begin the work. He remained at the table and watched me as I washed the dishes. When I moved to sweeping, he moved to his favourite throne, but the book remained on his lap, unopened, as he brooded, his elbow on the armrest and his chin upon his fist.
  • “A good-witch sent you here,” he said to me as I sat beside the hoard to resume sorting.
  • “Well, the Seers did as well, in a roundabout way, I guess,” I considered. “They said to take tarragon to the Fae Court, to claim the riven sword. I thought they meant to take tarragon as an offering, but tarragon can mean...”
  • “Dragon,” he finished for me. “In Fae. The herb is actually named after the Fae word, not the reverse.”
  • “Yes, though I didn’t know that until the good-witch told me,” I looked up at him and smiled. “Though, apparently, it normally means little dragon and from the indication of this cavern, this dragon is not little.”
  • “The Elvish word for golden is lyt etel,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “Seers,” he added with a tone of disgust. “They all seem to hold aspirations to be word smiths. What else did they say?”
  • “They said,” I closed my eyes to recall the words. I could envision the Seer’s lips, red against the white of her skin, her eyes, nose, forehead, and hair hidden beneath an elaborate headdress and mask, and the clink of the chain that bound her to place as she spoke the words that has seemed so obscure at the time but were growing more familiar due to repetition. “A king to none and queen to all. The sacrificial lamb with a dragon’s heart must learn to roar to win the war. The binding between mankind and brethren lies with a brethren heir to mankind’s kingdom. And, of course, that I should take tarragon to the Fae Court, to claim the riven sword.”
  • His frown deepened. “Do you intend to take the crown from your brother?”
  • I stared at him in surprise. “No. No,” I was appalled at the very thought and sought to correct any misimpression that I might have given that I wanted to harm my brother in order to rule. “My brother is… There are many years between us. My mother lost many children, between his birth and mine. He was a man grown by the time I was born, as a result. We have never been close. But he is a good man, a noble man. I want to help him, not make an enemy of him.”
  • He leaned back against the throne and tilted his head. “He could be dead.”
  • I swallowed and my hands stilled, gold and gemstones held suspended, the weight of them heavy in my palms. “Yes, I know.”
  • If Mathhian was dead, I had little choice - leave Clareath as Queen and hope they had conceived a child despite his illness or challenge her for the crown and somehow rally support behind me to do so. It was possibly this last that motivated Clareath to send the soldiers in pursuit of me. Whilst I remained alive, I was a threat to her reign, and to the reign of any child she might carry.
  • “I hope Mathhian lives,” I decided. “I hope that I can save him.”
  • “Hmm,” he returned to his book.
  • I was beginning to make progress on the hoard, I decided, as I washed my hands for lunch. It was still almost overwhelming in size, but there was a definite impression on the side where I had been working. Aurien had prepared a stew for the midday meal, using some of the meat left from the sheep carcass that hung from the cave ceiling.
  • “You cook well,” I told him. “How is it that you have learned?”
  • “Not everyone has a castle full of servants to tend our every whim, princess,” he replied with dry amusement. “For most, if you wish to eat, you must learn to hunt, to grow, and to prepare the food yourself.”
  • “Princesses are taught to be wives,” I was not embarrassed by my lack of education. I had to fight for every piece I had obtained, against objections. “Most are not even taught to read. Even were we to inherit, our husbands would expect to rule, and so they do not bother teaching us anything of importance. Embroidery, music, courtly manners…”
  • “How was it that you learnt what you did?”
  • “There were only the two of us, no other brothers,” I explained. “And Mathhian was unmarried. He arranged for me to be given more than the basic education as it allowed him to have more freedom if there was a viable heir to the throne, and he wanted to ride to war, to travel, to go on adventures. Beyond that, I begged and pleaded, argued, and cajoled my tutors for extra knowledge, to attend lessons with other students, and to attend public lectures.”
  • He had finished his meal but did not leave, watching me eat with narrowed violet eyes. He did not speak until I was drying the dishes. “I will teach you Fae,” he decided. “It is the language that most brethren speak. Once you understand the basic language, learning the deceit is easy.”
  • I wondered how long he envisioned me staying in the cave, in order to propose teaching me an entire language, especially one as complicated as Fae seemed. How long until the dragon returned? I did not have any choice but to wait for his return, however long that took. There were so few dragons that I could not simply move on to another, and I had been sent here both by a good-witch and the Seers, so had to believe that here was where I was meant to be.
  • “That would be a kindness, thank you Aurien.”
  • “Fae often reverses the personal pronoun,” he leaned back in his chair. “And they are gender specific. So, when I say ‘I’ in Fae it is ‘ith’ and when you say it, it is ‘ithe’, and ‘you’ in male form is ‘sa’, and female ‘sie’. ‘I will teach you Fae’ in Fae, therefore for me speaking to you is ‘Fae tiarthe sie mar ith’, but for you it is ‘Fae tiarthe sa mar ithe.’”
  • “Fae tiarthe sa mar ithe,” I repeated.
  • “The ‘th’ in ‘tiarthe’ and ‘ithe’ is harder,” he prompted. “Fae tiarthe sa mar ithe,” he said emphasising the pronunciation.
  • “Fae tiarthe sie mar ithe,” I tried again.
  • “Better. In your tongue, the words would be out of order. ‘Fae teach you will I.’ But Fae does not always translate word for word with the common tongue of mankind so you cannot rely on a precise translation.”
  • We returned to the treasure pile and he resumed his position on the throne. The end of his braid swept the gold coins like the twitching tail of a cat, or the pendulum of a clock. “You must have spent considerable time with the Fae, to have learnt their language,” I observed resisting the urge to touch the temptation of that swinging braid.
  • “Most brethren learn it as a second language to their own,” he replied. “The Fae rule the brethren, it is best to be able to speak the language of your kings and queens.”
  • “You speak my language, Fae, and your own.”
  • “Yes, and fifteen others,” he did not seem to think this unusual. “What do you think the Fae will do, if you successfully gain entry to their court?” he asked me.
  • What did I think they would do? I considered. “There is no happy outcome,” I sighed. “I guess I hope that the Fae court will remove Clareath for me. But doing so would involve leading an army into Uyan Taesil, which feels like a betrayal of my people.”
  • “Mmm. And what if the Fae decide, as they have in past wars, to simply issue brethren with the injunction to remove themselves from the realm? Clareath will remain Queen of Uyan Taesil, your brother will probably die, and you will be unable to return without experiencing the same fate.”
  • I sorted the treasure into the two buckets as I thought about it.
  • After seeing what was being done to the brethren in the dungeon and confronted with my own helplessness to render aid, I had fled with only the vaguest concept of what should happen next. I had done what I had been trained to do, and set out to find a higher authority, a king, to resolve the problem for me.
  • I had not considered what my actions would mean for me. My value lay in my connection to Mathhian, and my inheritance, and it was very unlikely that I would have either, now.
  • “There’s not much place for a princess who doesn’t have a home or allegiance to offer a prince,” I admitted. “I don’t suppose the dragon would consider relocating to an abandoned castle somewhere, from whence I could be rescued. A prince might overlook my lack of connections for the thrill of the rescue.”
  • He shifted on the throne and his expression was uneasy. He was hiding something.
  • “There… is a dragon, isn’t there, Aurien?” I asked him, in concern.
  • “Yes, there is a dragon,” he replied.
  • “He is… coming back?”
  • He looked away and his handsome profile was pensive. “Sort the treasure, Liera,” he said eventually. “In Fae: Liera, giltern opesay rin.”
  • “Giltern opesay rin,” I repeated obediently. “Why will you not answer, Aurien?”
  • “Yaden mar sa neath esquiren? Why will you not answer,” he did not look at me.
  • “Yaden mar sa neath esquiren,” I murmured. “Yaden mar sa neath esquiren, Aurien?”
  • “Aurien yaden mar sa neath esquiren,” he corrected, “proper nouns are placed first in Fae. Prianthe amar ith.”
  • “Prianthe amar ithe,” I looked up at him. He met my eyes. “What does that mean?”
  • “Prianthe is reason, amar is have. Empty your buckets, and we will see how well you remember what you have learnt so far,” he replied.
  • “Prianthe amar ithe,” I whispered to myself as I carried the buckets into the caves. “Reason have I.” What reasons? I did not imagine he would answer, if he would not answer when the dragon would return, or whether the dragon would return at all.
  • He had confirmed there was a dragon, however, and I did not think he lied; he would consider a lie to be beneath him. In hearth stories, the Fae and brethren would never lie outright, and Aurien had told me the Fae did not lie. They omitted, avoided, and misled instead. Aurien was definitely avoiding and omitting.
  • “Fae tiarthe sa mar ithe, Fae teach you will I,” I said to him as I returned to my seat. “Giltern opesay rin, sort the treasure. Aurien yaden mar sa neath esquiren, why will you not answer, Aurien. Prianthe amar ithe, reason have I.”
  • He arched his eyebrows. “Silutiosthin. Impressive.” He stood and moved over to sit beside me on the floor, sitting in such a way that our knees touched, and the incense scent of him wound its way around me.
  • He began to sort the treasure into the buckets. As he did so he named the objects we encountered in Fae. Coins, the various stones, goblets, plates, rings, and jewellery. Pearls. Crowns and tiaras.
  • “Perhaps the jewellery should be set aside,” he said thoughtfully, and placed a crown upon my head. “So that it may be worn.”
  • I looked up at him in surprise. He adjusted its position on my hair.
  • “It looks well on you,” he said softly. He wound the pearls around my neck. “Jewellery is only beautiful for the person it sits upon,” he murmured, his violet eyes meeting mine. My heart fluttered in my throat and my chest tightened. By the expression in his eyes, I was not alone in my desire.
  • I leaned forward and touched my lips to his. He leaned into the kiss, his tongue coaxing my mouth open. He tasted of fire and berries, I thought, sweet and spicy, and his lips burnt against mine, hotter than mankind. He eased back, lifting his mouth, and breaking the kiss with reluctance.
  • “Liera,” he breathed. “You have to ask me.”
  • I will not touch you unless you ask me to do so, he had told me, and he had not. “Aurien,” I met his eyes. “I don’t exactly know what I’m doing,” I confessed, flushing. “But please…”
  • His hands closed on my hips and lifted me with impressive strength, so that I sat upon his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, and my skirts gathered between us. He pulled me close to him as he sealed his mouth over mine again. The smouldering heat trapped in his violet eyes sent craving racing through me and I moaned as he deepened the kiss, his hands smoothing down my back.
  • He lifted onto his knees, holding me to him, and made as if to lay me down upon the treasure, when his attention shifted, abruptly, to the entrance of the cavern. I was breathless, caught still in the passion of our kiss, and followed his gaze in bewilderment. His nostrils flared and he stood, lifting me with him as if I were weightless, and set my feet to the ground.
  • “Stay here,” he said to me, and strode towards the end of the tunnel, pulling off his shirt as he went and discarding it carelessly.
  • Near the mouth of the tunnel, he shoved his trousers off his hips, stepping free of them. For one glorious moment, he stood, bare and magnificently beautiful, before he cast himself off the ledge. I cried out in alarm, and started forward, only to recoil as an expanse of gleaming golden scales blocked out the sky.