Dragon Wife (9 page)

Orwenna’s world rearranged itself, her heart racing like it was ten paces from the finish line.

“The king hasn’t spoken of this to anyone, at least not that I’m aware of,” she said. “Everyone assumes it’s you she’ll wed. Though I suppose, to most, it doesn’t matter which dragon takes her.”

“It matters to you,” Huroth observed, his eyes fixed intently on her.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Well…” She picked up a piece of wood and poked at the fire, stalling. Sparks curled up into the night sky, dancing like fireflies.

“Let me guess,” Huroth said. “You thought it cruel to curse such a young girl to wed someone as old as me?” He drew a long breath on his pipe, the herbs in the bowl flaring orange, throwing a glow across his finely chiseled features. He withdrew the pipe and released the smoke in a slow steady stream.

“To call it a curse might be overstating things,” Orwenna responded. “You’re not that old.”

“Dragons don’t age as rapidly as humans. I’ve lived more years than you think.”

“How many?”

“Does that need to be an issue between us?” he asked, smiling. The expression transformed the hard lines of his face into something breathtaking. Orwenna melted.

“It doesn’t seem terribly important,” she answered. “You’re a dragon, after all. I can hardly believe you’re real.”

“I’m real enough.” He set his pipe on the ground and moved forward, extending his hand to her, palm up. “See for yourself.”

Cautiously, Orwenna reached out, placing her hand on his. Energy leaped between their palms, rippling up her arm and through her entire body. She could feel the warmth of his skin, the texture slightly roughened, his fingers stroking the underside of her wrist. It was mesmerizing.

Orwenna,
he said, inside her mind.
You are beautiful.

For a moment, she didn’t realize what was happening. Her guard was down, her senses enthralled. Then she felt it, a dissolving of self, as they joined consciousness. The person she had always been began to slip from her, as reality and identity blurred.

Fear blinded her. Vardis had warned that dragons were ruthless. He’d told her how they could mold a person’s will like wet clay, how they could steal your soul. They cared nothing for the sovereignty of a human mind.

Panic screamed through her body. She was in danger of losing the only thing she truly possessed…herself.

“I told you not to do that,” Orwenna gasped, wrenching her mind free of the connection. She was shaking, the cumulative stress and wonder of the day overwhelming her.

Huroth retreated to the other side of the fire, his face closed.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Orwenna wanted to believe he would respect her wishes, but she couldn’t be sure. He was a dragon. Gorgeous and intoxicating as he might be, he was also alien. How could she know what he wanted from her?

“I’ll take first watch,” he said. “You should get some sleep.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Fatigue had hit her like a fist to the chest. Not five minutes after she lay down, wrapped in her blanket and cloak, she was out.

Chapter Six

Huroth only half-dozed through the night, staying aware enough to deal with any danger. He didn’t wake Orwenna for a turn at watch, as he knew she needed a full night’s sleep. There had been a look of exhaustion about her, at the end of the evening. He should have recognized it sooner, before he pushed her over the edge by attempting a mind-link.

He was angry with himself for that. It showed a lack of judgment and self-control. The connection he felt with her was just so unique. It tempted him to ignore her protests. All his life he’d been linking with other dragons, and he’d never experienced anything like the bond with Orwenna.

It made no sense. They were strangers, born of different races. What brought them into such powerful synchronicity? Maybe, with time, she would move past her resistance, and they could explore this question together.

The sun came up, rimming the tops of the mountains with gold. Orwenna was still sleeping, so Huroth rose and built up the fire. He felt stiff and chilled, his blood moving too slowly in his veins.

Removing his cloak, he walked to the far side of the ledge and stretched, working out the kinks of a night on the hard ground. He drew his sword and began a sequence of exercises, practiced since childhood. They were martial forms, repeated so many times they had become unconscious, imbedded in the memory of his muscle and sinew.

Huroth relaxed into the familiar patterns, allowing them to still his mind. Poise, controlled strength, and precision became his entire focus, clearing away worries about the coming fight with the Keskan army or how his clan might be taking the news. There was only the balance of the sword in his hand and the feel of his body flowing through the battle dance.

When he finished, Huroth realized Orwenna was watching him. It was gratifying to see the look of admiration on her face. She might have her doubts about him, but she was attracted nonetheless. It gave him somewhere to start.

“That was impressive,” she said, as he came over to the fire. “Are all dragons so good with a sword?”

“We try to be proficient with weapons and bare-hands combat both. In case we have to fight in eldrin form.”

“If you’re attacked somewhere enclosed?”

“That would be the main reason, now, but in the past there was the threat of capture by trolkin. They made magical collars to keep our kind from shifting. Any dragon caught, was forced to wear such a collar. It was best if the prisoners could defend themselves in eldrin form, as the trolkin took pleasure in tormenting them…throwing them into pits with wild beasts, forcing them to fight each other. It was ugly.”

“Why was there so much hatred between your races?”

“It goes back centuries,” he answered, “but the war was the fault of the dragon lords. They were greedy for gold and precious gems, found mostly in the subterranean realms of the trolkin. The dragon lords tried to force the trolkin to mine for them, to work as their slaves. It was a costly mistake.”

“You speak of dragon lords as if you’re not one.”

“I’m not. Long before the war, my grandfather disapproved of the dragon lords’ lust for wealth and luxury. He felt it unworthy of Oatha’s gift of life. He left the dragon city with others who shared his views. They came here, to the mountains, and formed a dragon clan in the way of our ancestors. We have continued his legacy to this day, though there are few of us left.”

Orwenna was silent a moment.

“But if your clan disagreed with the dragon lords,” she asked, “why fight in their war? Why not keep out of it?”

“We had no choice. When the trolkin rose up, all dragons became the enemy. It didn’t matter if we lived far from the gilded towers of the dragon city. We had to defend ourselves.”

“So where are the rest of the dragons? The ones that lived in the city, were they imprisoned in ice like you?”

“I don’t know. Vardis could tell me little. He located the ruins of the dragon city but saw none of my kind there. The buildings were blasted by some mighty cataclysm, and not much remained. He searched until he discovered an underground chamber, unharmed and set with magic sigils. That’s where he found the staff which freed us from our enchantment.

“Beyond that, we know nothing. We continue to search, but so far we’ve found no other dragons. There are only ten of us, eleven with baby Valla. We are too few. I fear for our survival.” Huroth’s voice grew heavy as he spoke. The loss of so many friends and family members weighed on him, as did his concerns for the future.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s no matter.” Huroth shook himself free of ghosts and memories. “We live in the present, not the past, and we work with what we’re given. That’s how Oatha wills it.” He looked to the east. “The sun is almost above the peaks. We should be on our way.”

“Of course.” Orwenna hopped up from the boulder where she had been sitting. “I can eat breakfast while I ride. My horse follows you now, without me having to touch the reigns.”

“I had no idea the chant would be so effective,” Huroth responded, with a half- smile. “I should try it on my clan. They might give me less trouble.”

“You want some?” Orwenna asked, offering him her travel rations.

“Later.”

“Water?” She held out her leather canteen. He took it and drank two quick swallows. The water tasted musty, but it was better than nothing.

Without further delay they broke camp and traveled west.

By midmorning, Huroth grew impatient, trying his best to hurry their pace. He wasn’t used to walking long distances, as he normally took drake form and flew. In the air he could choose the most direct route, flying straight from one point to another, but on the ground he had to follow the contours of the land. It slowed their progress significantly.

By noon, he was certain they couldn’t reach Whiterock at the designated time. It would take an extra day, at least. He had an idea how to solve the problem, if only Orwenna would go along with it. She was bold, for a human woman, but this might be asking too much of her.

They stopped by a clear rushing stream to refill the canteens and eat a bite of lunch. Huroth accepted a piece of dried pork and a slice of cheese from Orwenna, despite her dwindling supplies. If she didn’t agree to his proposal, he’d simply have hunt to keep them fed.

The two of them sat on a fallen log, eating, the sun warm on their faces, the stream gurgling and splashing beside them.

“I’ve been thinking,” Huroth said casually. “This isn’t the most efficient way for us to travel.”

“Oh?” Orwenna’s response gave nothing away.

“We aren’t making good time, and each hour that passes gives the Keskan army a chance to move farther north.”

“I know,” she admitted. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. You’ll have to leave me, so you can fly the rest of the way.”

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“I don’t see what else you can do.”

“What if you ride on my back, when I take drake form?” He paused, trying to gauge Orwenna’s reaction. Her eyes widened in alarm, but she didn’t immediately refuse.

“It should work,” he said quickly. “I have thick spines along my shoulders, which you could hold onto, and I’d be careful.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Orwenna’s face was pale.

“I won’t leave you here. One way or another, we’ll go on together, but I’d rather reach Whiterock tomorrow. Flying makes the most sense.”

“Just give me a minute to think.” She rose from the log and started to pace, first walking to the stream then back, her chin tucked, her eyes fixed on the ground. Huroth could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind.

She looked so serious, he couldn’t resist teasing her.

“If you’re fretting about those stories, where dragons carry off beautiful virgins, I can put your mind at rest. I haven’t done that in ages.”

Orwenna’s head snapped up.

“Since I’m not a beauty or a virgin, I won’t worry,” she said tartly. “I’ll just pray you know how to fly well enough not to drop me.”

Huroth laughed. “You’re not afraid of much, are you?”

“Quite a lot, actually, but I can’t let that rule me.”

“Well said.” He gave her a broad grin, and she answered with a tentative smile. They stood like that a moment, eyes held, then Orwenna dropped her gaze.

“I came to the mountains looking for adventure,” she said. “It appears I’ll be getting my wish…in spades”

“So, it’s adventure you’re after?”

“Among other things.” The color returned to her cheeks, and she glanced up at him quickly from beneath her lashes. It had a beguiling effect, made all the more charming by being unintentional. She didn’t seem to realize her own loveliness.

Huroth had the urge to take her in his arms and show her how appealing she was, but he resisted. First things first. Dragon riding was enough of a leap for today.

****

“I hate to leave this saddle,” Orwenna said, pulling it off the horse. “It’s a piece of quality workmanship. So is the harness.”

“In the larger scheme of things, it doesn’t count for much,” Huroth told her. “Far more important, is us getting on our way.”

Orwenna could see he was eager to leave, but she hesitated. It was intimidating enough just being near him in drake form. Climbing on his back and soaring with the eagles was another thing entirely. The thought of it made her stomach knot.

“Are you sure the horse will survive?” she asked, playing for time. “What if the wolves catch her scent?”

“She’s healthy and fast,” Huroth said, sounding impatient. “I can’t promise she’ll be safe, but her chances are good. Now, come on.”

“All right, all right.” She slung the two canteens over her shoulder and stuffed the remaining food into a pocket of her cloak. She wore all her layers of clothing, as Huroth warned it would be cold riding on his back.

“Once I shift, I won’t be able to speak with you,” he said. “If there’s an urgent need to communicate, we’ll have to link minds.”

“You didn’t tell me that part.” It felt like a trap, and her nerves were already stretched taut as bowstrings.

Huroth released a slow breath.

“Orwenna. You can trust me.” He stepped closer and took her hands in his, holding her gaze. “I would never do anything to harm you. I promise.”

How could she reject that, spoken with his voice like sable and crushed velvet? Perhaps it would be all right. The mind link was only for emergencies, and she could cut it off whenever she chose.

“I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

Huroth moved away, giving himself room to shift. The air swirled and thickened around him like water, his form growing vague as it expanded. The next moment he was there, in all his drake glory.

Though Orwenna knew what was coming, the reality of it set her heart pounding. He was so huge and ferocious looking. His wide mouth gaped open, filled with lethally sharp teeth. He could easily snap her in two or torch her with a single breath. Was she really going to climb on his back and fly? She must have been insane to agree.