Dragon's Heart (14 page)

As he walked, Killian became aware of someone following him. Without warning, he stopped and turned. Ryan, who hadn’t anticipated the pause, walked right into him.

I just want to be alone. Why can’t I go anywhere by myself? I deserve some peace.
“What are you doing?” Killian demanded.

“I am making certain you stay safe, your Highness.” He caught the prince’s arms and steadied them both for a moment before letting go and taking a step back.

“Why?”

“Serena was,” Ryan winced at the look of pain that flashed in Killian’s eyes and said, “
is
my friend. I know she loves you. I do not know where she is, but I will watch over you until she returns.”

Killian closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “And if she does not return?” he asked, throat tight as he voiced his worst fear aloud for the first time since she had disappeared.

“Then I will watch over you until I retire, and I will choose my successor, Highness.”

“Do you believe she will return?”

“I believe, if she can, Serena will find her way back to your side.”

“Thank you, Ryan.” Killian turned and made his way to his chambers. He closed the door and paced the sitting room, restless, wondering if his father and grandmother accepted his decision to decline any claim to the throne or if they were giving him time to reconsider. He sighed, and walked to his wardrobe, “Thomas.” he called, hoping his valet was near.

A few hours later, as the sun began its descent below the horizon, Killian brought his horse to a halt at the edge of the lake. He dismounted and walked over to a flat-topped rock, settling on it and staring into the distance, hoping to see Serena come walking out of the forest, hand raised in greeting with a wild tale to explain her absence. But she didn’t appear. No one exited the forest. He smiled for the first time in a very long while, glad to be away from the court and the gossips. The prince didn’t know if the men and women who talked about his relationship with Serena didn’t know or didn’t care that the stories always got back to him. His mind returned to the scene just outside the audience chamber with the late Lord Dennsmore.

“Was Lord Dennsmore lying? What if he wasn’t? Is Serena wasting away somewhere? Did my reluctance to believe him condemn her to a slow, painful death?” he asked.

“You mustn’t think like that, your Highness,” Ryan said, not liking the dark turn the prince’s musings had taken.

Killian started.
I should have known I wasn’t alone.
“Were you listening in again?” He glanced around and noticed the other guards had taken up positions close by.

“Yes.”

“I could have taken what Dennsmore said on faith.” Killian stopped. “If I had, maybe Serena would be safe.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
I just want her safe, with me.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. If Dennsmore was willing to kidnap her just to use her as leverage to force you into marrying his daughter, what was to keep him from—” Ryan stopped speaking and drew his sword, taking a ready position as the sound of horses moving through the forest filled the air.

Killian looked around and noticed his other guards coming closer. Something was very wrong, and he knew there shouldn’t be mounted men in the queen’s forest. Yet, they were bearing down on his party. Killian drew his sword and watched the tree line, his heart thundering in his chest.

Six of the riders exited the forest.
There have to be more.
Brigands would not like the odds of six against four.
They stopped a few feet from the forest’s edge and studied Killian’s party. Because he’d wanted to slip away, none of the guards wore their uniforms. He hadn’t even dressed like a lord or prince. Standing there now, he simply resembled one of his grandmother’s cavalrymen enjoying a free day.

“Give us your gold and we’ll let you walk away,” the man on the lead horse said.

“You do not want to bother us. It is in your best interest to move on.” Ryan’s voice had gone cold, his expression hard as stone, his blade in the ready position, waiting for the brigands to make the first move. He shifted closer to Killian and spoke low. “Your Highness, you should mount and run.”

“To where?” he hissed in response. “If I do not miss my guess, they have more men in the trees, I would not get far. I prefer to fight.”

“I have failed.”

“We’re not dead yet, Ryan,” he said as the ruffians dismounted. He frowned. The horses would be an advantage against those on foot.

“Stay close, prince,” Ryan commanded before turning his attention back to the bandits. “I offer you one last chance. Leave us and your lives will be spared.” When the only answer to Ryan’s demand was laughter, Killian heard his guard sigh before he said, “Your father is going to have my head for this.”

Killian shifted the grip on his sword, bringing it to the ready position. In his mind, he heard Serena’s voice, correcting his form. He could almost feel her arms around him as she guided him through a series of moves. “No, he won’t.”

“You’re right.” Ryan nodded to the men who were readying their weapons. “They will.”

The brigands charged. All three of Killian’s guards were masters of their art. They moved to form a protective barrier in front of the prince. As a unit, the guards advanced on their attackers, closing the distance and choosing where to make their stand. The flat-topped rock offered no cover, but it also meant they had visual advantage over their attackers who couldn’t circle around behind them.

Killian lost himself in the rhythm of the fight, finding a measure of peace in the heat of battle. When one of their attackers fell, another came out of the woods to take the fallen comrade’s place. Killian watched, unable to help as a dagger took Mitchell in the throat. The guard fell, and Ryan and Jackson moved in closer to cover Killian. He stepped forward and took the fallen guard’s place, but their attackers pressed nearer, and they were forced to fall back. Killian cried out as one man’s blade slipped past his defenses, the blade slicing into his forearm. To his right, Ryan gasped and dropped down on one knee. To the left, Jackson fell, a sword through his side. Killian retreated, looking for a way out.

Flames filled the air, heat coming in a searing wave. Killian dropped his sword, screamed and crouched, holding his hands over his ears as a deafening roar echoed everywhere. When his ears started working again, Killian was shaken by high-pitched screams.

He pivoted, staying in his crouch, looking for Ryan. The guardsman was on the ground a few feet away, his hand pressed to the wound in his side. Near the guard, a large red dragon had landed and was surveying the area with strange, green-gold flecked eyes. The serpent turned its gaze on Ryan, cocked its head to one side and sniffed the guard. On the other side of the rock, Killian shifted his weight, sending a couple small pebbles tumbling into the lake below with a splash. The dragon’s head swung around.

Killian froze. His heart thundered, and blood pounded in his ears along with a fine tremor of fear that ran through him as the creature fixed its gaze on him. As the prince stared into the dragon’s eye, he saw something familiar glimmering in the depths. The creature blinked, and Killian’s chest constricted to the point of pain. He cried out and dropped to his knees, a whispered prayer to the Gods on his lips, certain he was going to die. The realization hit hard. He’d never know what had become of Serena. The concept was a blow to his gut, knocking the air from his lungs and stealing all rational thought.

The creature tilted its massive head to one side, blinking a second time. Over on the other side of the rock, Ryan groaned and tried to push himself to his feet, blood gushing from his wound.

When the dragon swung its head to the right and growled, the low sound sent vibrations through Killian’s chest. He was as cautious as possible to move around the creature, his entire body shaking while stepping to his left. Sand and pebbles crunched under his feet, but he focused on keeping his movements slow and his breathing even, not doing anything to attract the attention of the predator.

Another ear-splitting roar shattered the silence. Killian reacted, protecting his ears and dropping to the ground, making himself as small as possible and waiting for the end to come. Rocks crushed, and stone cracked under the weight of the beast, and its breath washed over Killian in a hot, fetid cloud. He pushed himself to his feet as the creature launched itself at the tree line, its tail coming within inches of sweeping the prince’s feet out from under him. He jumped back, feeling the tail brush the tops of his boots before he sprinted to where the guard captain lay sprawled on the rock, the pool of blood growing with each passing heartbeat. He knelt at Ryan’s side and eased his friend onto his back.

“Killian, go,” the guardsman groaned. “We don’t know when that beast will turn its attention back to us. Leave me.”

“No.” The answer was as firm and regal as expected from a prince of the realm. Killian took off his tunic and shirt before using a dagger to cut the shirt into several strips, using them to bind Ryan’s wound.

Ryan’s eyes went wide showing the whites. “What… is… that?”

Killian turned in time to see the dragon had trapped the remaining bandits between itself and a natural cliff. As the prince watched, one of the thieves bolted, making a mad dash for freedom. The serpent reached out with a clawed foot and knocked the man back without serious injury. One female from the group decided to take advantage of the creature’s distraction and tried to slip past the tail. The dragon snorted and swung its scaled appendage, sweeping the woman’s legs out from under her, before using it as a moving barrier herding her back with the others. Killian took several slow steps toward the dragon, stopping when he was at the creature’s side. From his vantage point, the one eye he could see had shifted. He knew the creature was looking at him, waiting for something, for what, he didn’t know.

Judge them.
Words hissed through Killian’s mind on a wave of heat that had the prince staggering back a step, fighting to remain on his feet. The voice was harsh, as though it held unknowable rage in check, and yet a softness made it hauntingly familiar.

“Your Highness.” Ryan pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the searing pain from his wound. Decades of training took over. He stumbled across the rock, trying to position himself between the prince and the dragon.

Killian fought to breathe as another presence filled his mind, strange and alien, yet familiar. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, hoping it would stop whatever it was from ripping his mind apart. Before he knew it, someone was behind him, hands on his arms and supporting him as his legs trembled and his guts twisted into knots.

“What’s wrong, Killian?” Ryan asked.

“A voice in my head,” Killian whispered, his eyes now wide open. Although the dragon still had the bandits pinned, its focus hadn’t fully diverted from Killian either. The prince pushed away from Ryan, taking a moment to make sure his legs would support him before he crossed the few steps to the creature. “Was that you?” he asked.

The dragon puffed out a breath and the huge eyelid slid closed for a moment before opening again.
Yes, your Highness.
This time, the voice in his mind had softened. Warm whispers ran through him, rather than red-hot screams. In the back of his mind, another thought tugged at his memory, tickled the edges of his understanding, before slipping away.
Judge them.

Killian turned to face the bandits. They were a well-organized group. Every man and woman were outfitted with light armor, weapons, and a cloth covered the lower halves of their faces. He had heard of this band, ruthless, and cutthroat… always able to avoid capture by the constables. If one of their members was captured, he or she would either be killed or take their own life before they could be interrogated. Killian had been present when his grandmother received reports of their deeds. He met each bandit’s gaze. Every stare was cold, hard, without remorse. Killian pulled his shoulders back, straightened his spine, and felt his court mask slide into place. “For the crimes of killing two Royal Guardsmen, gravely injuring another and placing the life of the heir to the throne in danger, I, Killian Rhys, hereby sentence you to death.” He turned to the dragon and offered the creature a sweeping bow. “You may do with them as you will.”

The dragon’s attention had returned to the bandits while Killian draped one of Ryan’s arms over his shoulder and supported his friend. The pair hadn’t taken more than three steps when a thread of warm magic slipped past Killian’s defenses and wrapped itself around his mind. Killian fought as his arms and legs stopped obeying his mental commands.

“Why?” he asked, meeting the dragon’s eye, fighting the pull that was dragging him to the edge of a dark abyss.

You do not need to witness.
The voice echoed in his head as he was dragged into unconsciousness.