Dragon's Keep (29 page)

These words described the storm that had come
and left us shaken.

Two nights passed. We
ate little and spoke less. On the morn
of
the third day the pips began to plan their southern flight
across the sea. I went to the water's edge and
washed the tears and
mud from my cheeks. The woman looking back at me
from the quickened pool seemed aged beyond her seventeen years. There was
something of Marn in me now, all bone and sinew and stooped with life, though
at seventeen, I was half an arm-span taller than Marn.

The pips would leave this day or the next.
I'd thought to stay on Dragon's Keep and, like a sexton, tend the three graves
here. But in the night, Kit's spirit hovered over in a dream and the single
word she whispered,
Alissandra.

"Ali," I said
to the woman in the water, "Aliss." And I felt the
smallest stirring in my chest: a sign of one last
fleck of love.
Mother's dearest friend.
She'd borne a
girl child out of wedlock for the queen.
Lived in Demetra's
cave because of it.
Now Magnus had her jailed in the dungeon.

I stirred the water, distorting my
reflection. My mouth widened in the pool, my eyes floated outward. I could not
go. I felt all but dead.

Do you love only
dragons now? Kit
had
shouted from her boat.

She was right. I was more dragon than
princess now. I'd grown into my dragon's part more fully in the past year, and
castle life seemed foreign.

I brought my head down to the earth, no heart
left, my soul and body wanting ease. "God, release me," I whispered.
Still, I

felt
the grip of Kit's song, and the
waterfall above seemed to take
up her
mother's name, till all the tumbling water sang,
Aliss.

At dawn Chawl took me on his back, and
together with Eetha and Ore, we left Dragon's Keep. As we sped across the
water, Dragon's Keep grew small as a dust mote in the great eye of the sea.
Between sky and water we flew, the stinging wind blowing back my cloak. The
early sun spilled across the water. And far across the sea, I thought a show of
white might be a ship sailing for Dragon's Keep. Looking again, I lost the
image in a spray of mist.

It was nightfall by the
time we neared Wilde Island. I saw the
land
ahead as I clung to Chawl's broad neck. The heavy sound of his pumping wings
was nothing to my heartbeat as I saw Pendragon Castle. Suddenly I wanted to
scream, "Turn back!" but thoughts of Ali curled up in the dungeon
straw—dirty, hungry, and left to the dark—kept me to my course.

We landed by the Pendragon tomb. All was dark
about us, and the blowing of the maple trees accompanied the rustling of dragon
wings. Climbing from Chawl's back, I said good-bye to the pips.

"You will rule in power," said
Eetha. I smiled at this, thinking how little she knew of humankind.

"Don't forget your inner fire,"
said Chawl, breathing a bit of flame to me. And I used his fire to light a
candle from the sexton's box near the tomb. Then I kissed the pips, which they
did not like but took with dignity. Last, Ore licked my cheek with her rough
tongue and said, "Briar."

They rose into the night. My candle flickered
in their wings' wind. Turning for the musty tomb, I crossed myself and entered,
descending the narrow steps. The chamber to the right housed Mother's parents
and brother, who had all died the same week
from
the pox. How small Prince Bion's effigy seemed as I passed.
He was
younger than I when he died. Mother must have come-here alone as a girl—released
from Saint Brigid's to mourn her family and be crowned queen all within a
month. Now I would kneel before my parents as she had done. How the world turns
back on itself and we travel on the byways our parents strove along whether we
wish it or no.

An hour passed, two. As I prayed I saw
through tears a yarrow moth fly in and flit about my candle. I thought on the
day Father and I rode to the lake and saw the
moths
birth from their waxen tombs. "Look ye, Rosie," he'd said.
"Out of death to life."

I gave thanks for the sending of the moth,
for in the darkest times it is the small things, a bit of bread or a flitting
moth, that
can bring a body hope.

Night was passing. I descended the twisting
steps that led to the underground passage and pried open the wall. Raising my
candle and stepping into the damp passage, I was greeted by scores of spiders.
I bit my lip and journeyed in, taking the full length of the passage under yard
and moat.

My plan was simple as a
sailor's knot. I would present myself
on
the morrow, acting the part of queen. With regal bearing as my mother had of
old, I'd order Sir Magnus to the dungeon, free sweet Ali, and claim my rightful
throne.

At the far end of the tunnel, I opened the
hidden door and slipped into the wine cellar. Up the servants' stairs I fled,
crept down the narrow hall, and stole round the corner. Seeing Mother's door
unchallenged, I went in.

Her scent greeted me as
I entered the solar. It came across me
in
a ripple as if my entrance had disturbed the very pool of air inside. I closed
my eyes and took in the sweet odor.

In the flickering candlelight I sought the
washing bowl, and finding it empty, tiptoed to the laver to fill it. Back in
Mother's chamber I stripped away my dragon skin and washed a year of dragon
smell from my person. I'd grown used to the scent on Dragon's Keep, but I knew
my fellows would think it rank. The soap ball, which Mother had especially made
for her, smelled of rose oil. It brought to mind her soft cheek when she kissed
me, the brush of her cool fingers when, alone, she'd taken off her gloves. My
eyes welled up.

I wrapped up in a coverlet and stood before
the wardrobe.
My naked fingers wandered
across a stiff lace, a gathered sleeve.
The red velvet was soft as a
petal. Mother had worn this gown
the night
we celebrated Kye's victory over the dragon at the great
banquet on the
shore. And kneeling, I found still some grains of sand about the hem. I donned
the gown, slipped on my mother's shoes, and took up her comb to battle my
tangled hair.

A war ensued, which left my head aching with
a thousand pricks. When my scalp felt needled as a pincushion, I gave in to the
tangles, twisted my hair into a mass and pinned it on top of my head.
"Done!"
I said. Now and only now did I turn for
the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe
door.

Before the glass I took in the slender woman
dressed in red. Mother used to bring me here. Ah, she opened her wardrobe
door for me at ages six and nine, ten and
fourteen. But always we viewed the glass together gloved so she could face me
smiling,
willing with her heart that I was whole. She'd say, "Queen
Rosalind Pendragon. Know who you are."

"Know who you are," I whispered.
"Rosalind." I held up my naked hands. "Queen Briar."

The talon had grown a full two inches on
Dragon's Keep; the blue-green scales had brightened in the fresh air. Never had
I
seen my claw in Mother's glass. I could
hold my naked hands out
now and take in all I saw without shame. The
dragons had given me that. I marveled at the gift.

Lord Faul would have roared out fire if he'd
seen me prune my "pretty part," as he had called it. Still, I knew
the people here would burn me for a witch if they saw it so I knifed the talon,
peeling it slowly as a carver whittles wood.
Black pieces clattered
to the floor, smoke curled, warming me with a
familiar dragon smell. When the talon was cut to the nub, I hid the shavings behind
the logs in the hearth. No fire to burn the leavings as Mother used to do. I
knew better than to light one and announce my presence here. In the chill room
I sheathed the knife and shuddered as I donned a pair of Mother's golden
gloves.

Stars still burned
outside the castle walls, so I said a prayer to
Saint Brigid, asking for her blessing of witty speech against Sir
Magnus on the morrow,
then
I lay on Mother's bed,
where sleep encompassed me.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX

_Discovered

AFTER
dawn the chambermaid
came in, saw me
abed in
Mother's gown, and fled
screaming, "The queen's ghost! God save us!" Quick the castle guard
clattered up the stairs, tore me from my bed, and led me down the hall.

"Let go!" I said. "I order
you!"

Servants peeked around doors, eyes wide,
mouths agape. In the Great Hall the sight of Sir Magnus at his breakfast fairly
twisted my spleen. The mage sat in crimson robes with soft fur slippers on his
feet and golden gloves upon his hands! Mary and Joseph! Nothing I'd seen on
Dragon's Keep had insulted me as much as this! I was used to the women of high
rank wearing gloves, though never golden as Mother's and mine. But for
him
to don golden gloves, wearing them as a sign
of power as a whore
wears silk, this offended me more than Lord Faul's
power, which had been real and his anger pure.

"Bring her
forward," he ordered. The guard shoved me to the
floor. I tried to stand but Sir Kent, whom I knew well from

childhood
, booted my spine. Thus I lay in supplication to the
mage.

"Who are you that you creep into the
queen's chamber in the middle of the night?"

"I am Princess Rosalind."

"Rosalind is dead," said Sir
Magnus.

"No, I live. Let me
stand,
and you'll see for yourself."

Sir Magnus nodded. Boot
removed, I stood, rubbed the small
of my
spine, and brushed the straw from Mother's gown. Fire filled me now. Sir Magnus
would be punished for this.

"There is some likeness," admitted
Magnus. "But a witch can guise herself."

"I'm no witch!"

Sir Magnus speared his sausage and held it
up. "If you are Rosalind tell us how you entered the castle unnoticed by
the
guards. I know myself the drawbridge
was not lowered yestereve."

"There is another way inside," I
offered, but I said no more, having promised Father I would never show the
tunnel to another soul.

"A way into Pendragon Castle?
Not unless you swam the moat
or used a spell to fly across on crow's back."

"I did nothing of the sort. I heard
about my mother's death and came home to claim my crown."

"Your crown?"
he scoffed.

"And," I continued, "my first
command is to send you to the dungeon for poisoning my—"

"Make commands?" shouted Sir
Magnus, coming to a stand. The sausage dropped to the floor to the delight of
the dogs, but

the
breadth of his belt showed how little Magnus needed
meat.
"You may call yourself Rosalind,
but we all know it cannot be so.
We saw the dragon swoop her away last
May Day."

The guards' faces were stone; the
servants—all but Mouser, who was dumb to the proceedings—cowered at my stare.
Cook, cheeks red and chin aquiver, crushed the corners of her smeared apron.

"The dragon spared me."

"The dragon showed you mercy?
Never.
But entertain us
with
more lies." He sat and speared another sausage. "And tell us
why
he did not eat you." He jammed the sausage in his mouth. The room rang
with laughter.

This I could not answer. Sir Magnus smacked
his lips loudly
as I looked at the floor.
I'd vowed to keep the pips secret. The last
of the world's dragons must
have their chance at life.

"Answer," demanded Magnus.

"I cannot," I said. "But I can
say this! My mother died because you filled her with—"

"Sorcery!" shouted Magnus. "It
must be by the devil's sorcery you lived with the dragon."

"No!"

"I say he spared you because you are a
witch and the dragon your kith-beast."

I screamed and rushed for the mage. Before I
reached the table I was caught by two guards and held at bay like a wild cur.

"My lord, a word," called Sir
Winston from behind. Sir
Magnus waved him
forward. The knight's gray hair fell across his
brow as he whispered in
the mage's ear.

I looked about the room for help and found
none. Indeed, my mother's gown and shoes could not hide the wild girl I'd become
on Dragon's Keep. And though I'd bathed, I knew there-was a stench about my
person, and everyone seemed afraid to look at me. Another thing I saw as I
looked about for help: All
the women were
wearing gloves woven of the best material each
could find. In years past
only women of high standing donned
gloves.
Now I saw my mother's fashion had extended even to the
servants.

At the high table Sir
Winston hissed in Sir Magnus's ear. The mage stood then and frowned. "As I
suspected we have evidence of witchery here," he said. "We'll hold a
trial in three days' time.
Take her to
the dungeon."

"Poisoner!"
I screamed, but the crowd paid my words no more mind
than they would the ravings of a mad woman. "Let me go!" I shouted.
"I'm your queen!" The guards dragged me from the room. All along the
halls the servants covered their noses and looked away. Down the steps we went,
the sounds ol our feet like the clatter of spilled pebbles. Sir Winston threw
me in a cell and slammed the metal door.