Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas) (11 page)

The rich embroidery on the robes held symbols that Alador did not recognize. When he was done, Dorien walked to him and placed a simple gold coronet upon his brow. It held no stones or symbols. It shined in the dim light, the steam on its metal surfaces catching the flickering lighting.

Dorien settled it in, but it fell over one of his eyes. His head was smaller than most Daezun and so the headband just laid there. Dorien chuckled. “I hope this is the only thing on you a bit small.”

Alador rolled his eyes as Dorien adjusted it, so it rested across the center of his forehead. Alador stood uncertain before his brother feeling a bit uncomfortable. He shifted at the feeling of someone else touching him. The clothing felt far too light, and the coronet on his head seemed out of place. No adult ever told a middlin about this night. He had never seen a man emerge from the bathing hut for their ritual. He put a hand to the coronet when Dorien let it go and looked up to his brother with apparent hesitation, and his face held his discomfort.

Dorien nodded with approval looking his brother over. He eyed his younger brother for a long moment then went over to a satchel that sat near the seat his ceremonial clothes had been laid out upon. “Here, drink this."
 He gently shoved a vial into Alador’s hand when he returned.

“What is it?"
 Alador uncorked it and sniffed it carefully. It smelt much like the meraweed vapor that filled the room but there was something else. A sharp stringent smell that reminded him of the healer’s hut was blended in it. He held it up to gaze at it. Its amber hues in the little glass vial for flecked with darker spots.

“It is the drink that men take the night of circle. It helps a man mate several times” Dorien grinned at him. “It will also help you not care that there is an elder in your bed."
 Dorien added as if it was a bit of an afterthought.

For that reason alone, Alador swiftly drank it down. He coughed at the bitter bite that it left in the back of his throat. He stood waiting for some magical effect but other than his stomach churning, he felt nothing. He set the vial on the chair. The idea of an elder touching him or even seeing him in these clothes still
seemed quite horrid to him. Why couldn’t it have been an adult?  At this moment, it seemed a much better idea.

Dorien moved a rug on the floor and opened a trap door. The door creaked as the heavy wood was lifted from its secure foundation. “This way to the ritual hut Alador."
 Dorien nodded that he should go down inside.

Alador just stared at him. He had been in this hut so many times. He had never known there was a door there. Then again, it never occurred to him to move the rug. Only the adults were assigned to clean and maintain the bathing hut, now he knew why. He walked to the hole in the floor and looked down. It was a lit passageway that led off from the bathing hut.

“Come on now, let us not keep the council waiting."  Dorien shooed him on down the stairs.

“The whole council comes to watch?"
 Alador’s voice hit a higher octave as he stood rigid at the edge of the stairs.

Dorien laughed hard. He had to wipe his eyes he was laughing so hard. Finally, when he could not stand the look of fear on his brother’s face anymore, did he offer a bit of a balm. “Not literally. I have to go and tell them you are ready and then they will send in the chosen elder.”

Alador climed down and stepped into the cool tunnel. The floor was lined with well swept stones and the walls were marked with symbols much like those on the robes. His brother was still chuckling as they moved down the corridor that seemed to run beneath the village. He couldn’t tell which way they were going. The passage way was lit by torches as he walked down it to another set of stairs. He climbed back up through a second open trapdoor. He stepped into a room with a warm fireplace and a huge bed. The bed was covered in furs and blankets. A table was laid with food and drink as he looked around. He was the only one here, and he looked back at the trap door in confusion. His brother’s head was visable at the top of the stairs he had just climbed, Dorien's hand reaching for the corresponding trapdoor. “What now?"  Alador asked. He looked about with fear as he realized that while he knew what was the end plan, he had no idea what would happen in the beginning. His brother was leaving him, and he had a sudden desire to flee back down the passageway they had just come.

“The elder will join you shortly. Get a drink, relax Alador. I promise you, this will not be a night you will regret or forget."
 Dorien winked at him and shut the trap, settling it back into the floor.

He felt strangely warm, and there was a stirring within him he didn’t understand. Alador paced the room looking at the furnishings. He sat on the bed and bounced up and down on it a few times. It made him dizzy, so he stopped. After sitting stiffly for a bit and watching the door in the wall, he moved to the table of food and poured a chalice of honeyed mead. It was a rare treat, and he smiled as he sipped at it. It felt soothing to his stomach and throat after the bitterness of the vial that Dorien had given him to drink. He wasn’t really hungry though everything looked incredible. When was she coming?
 Why were they taking so long?  It seemed like it had been at least an hour since Dorien had left. He looked at the trap door and once again seriously considered fleeing back down it.

He walked back to the big bed and ran his fingers along the soft furs. His own bed was a mere narrow board with a thin mattress pad made of old blankets sewn inside a covering. This mattress was clearly stuffed with something far softer for his hands almost s
ank into it. He had never seen a bed like it. His mother’s was fairly nice, but its mattress was softened prang hide and termin feathers. He sat on it once more. He sipped the mead and watched the door in the wall. He wished it was Mesiande that was going to step through it. He imagined unbraiding her long hair and running his fingers through it. He smiled at the idea of laying her down upon this soft bed and slowly kissing her.

The door opened and Alador jumped up, spilling some of the mead on his robe. He cursed softly for these were not his and looked up in embarrassment. Meradeth stepped in and closed it softly. Alador stared at her. He had always seen her as old, an elder. Even when she had guarded the children when the dragon had attacked, he had seen her as merely one of the elders. In that moment, she did not look old. Her hair was loose and brushed until it shined. Although there were streaks of grey throughout it, let down it seemed more to enhance her face. Her body was clothed in a simple white robe much like his. It dropped into a v between her breasts. Although she was older, unlike Luciesa, she was not wrinkled or unpleasing to look at.

Meradeth came towards him as he stood with the chalice of mead in his hand trembling, his eyes watching her every movement. She smiled at him, and when he went to speak, she put a finger to his lips. She took the chalice from his trembling hand and walked back to the table to set it down. She moved back to him with a graceful manner. Meradeth ran her hands slowly up his chest. “Do not worry, Alador. I will be gentle."  She whispered and leaned up to grace his lips with her own. Something lurched inside of him, and his eyes widened at the feeling. She slowly stepped back and dropped the white robe off her shoulders then slowly it fell to the ground. He stood staring at her for he had never seen a woman naked so boldly. Every middlin snuck looks at the women when they could, but he had never had a woman stand before him so openly.

Her body was still firm from years of village work. Her breasts were the only sign she was not an adult. They drooped slightly but in that moment, she seemed the most beautiful thing Alador had ever seen. He stared at her in amazement as she walked to him. She pushed him back onto the bed so that he sat before her and Alador did not resist. She ran her hands up his thigh bringing an immediate response from his body. Her lips claimed his and much to his surprise, she touched him, bringing him to full readiness. Something inside him seemed to snap, and his eyes flew open. He growled against her lips, and his arms went about her hungrily with that feral sound. Meradeth cried out in surprise as he pivoted and rolled her onto the bed.

Renamaum spied the lithe blue dragon frolicking in the water. He had smelled her on the air and knew she was ready for mating. Her eye was drawn to his own as she took to the air. He chuckled and thrust up off the ground after her. He loved a little chase from a mate. She was fast and agile. Renamaum banked and turned trying to catch the female. He smiled as she climbed higher and higher into the sky. The two dancing about one another, him grabbing for her and her dancing out of his reach as they spiraled up.

When they could not go much higher, she taunted him, flicking her tail into his face playfully. Renamaum growled and grabbed the tail. The female roared in surprise as she beat her wings to escape him. He used the tail to pull her slowly to him, and when he had her close enough, he lunged, wrapping her into his grip and wings. As he took her, they began to fall spiraling to the earth, his wings holding her close to him. Their bodies hurled writhing through the air towards the ground beneath them. Caught so strongly in his embrace, she was captive to his passions and his grasp made clear who was master. It was not until their death seemed almost certain that the great dragon thrust her away and both their wings snapped open, and they soared back up into the air. Renamaum almost hit the ground having held her a bit too long, and his talons whipped tree tops. The female had safely banked back around to land beside the pool, panting heavily. Renamaum banked and landed roughly beside her, sand flying at the impact. The female looked at him haughtily and with feigned disdain, turned as if to take flight once more. “Oh, we are not done yet."  He growled. He pounced upon her before she could take flight, pinning her beneath his great weight.

Renamaum used his teeth to grab hold of her neck to hold her firm as he used his talons to move her tail taking her there on the ground. Pinned down, he sank into her as she was held with her back to him, his muscular flanks moving with the power of an aged dragon. Although she teased as if she was not willing, the female dragon gave to him on equal ground. Finally, there was no need to hold her for the needs of mating began to overtake the needs of play.

Meradeth went to move from the sleeping man’s side. Her body well used by his need. She eyed the table of food and drink, and then him once more. Carefully she began to slide from the bed so as not to wake him.

Alador’s eyes opened still glazed by the vision that had seemed to blend within his own love making. Her back to him much as the female in the vision, as he had followed the dragon’s need. He could no longer tell what passions were his and what was the dragons. All he knew was that he wanted her, needed her. “Oh, we are not done yet."  He growled out as he pulled her back to him, rolling her beneath him.

Meradeth giggled as he rolled her back onto the bed. “I am the one supposed to be teaching you."
 She whispered up to him. The hunger on his face made her eyes widen.

Alador claimed her lips hungrily, he did not want to talk. He wanted more. He needed more. Now he understood what his brothers had meant. He did not care that it was an elder in his bed. He did not care how old her kiss or touch was. He faded back into the shared mating. The evening became a flurry of writhing bodies, talons and tails, hands and lips.

The two dragons mated with abandonment at the side of the lake. The sounds of their lovemaking echoed along the water’s edge. Prang and korpen alike, wisely wandered in opposite directions. The frantic need of the pair left small trees torn up, and the edges of the lake were scarred with the movement of their bodies and claws.

Later as the two lay tangled on the sand by the lake, the female nuzzled him. Renamaum growled tenderly and nuzzled her back content to lay in the warm sand and rest with his new mate. “What is your name?"  He hissed, almost as a whisper.

“Pruatra."
 She answered softly, her tail flicking much like a cat pleased to have been given milk.

Chapter Nine

Alador woke the next morning alone in the bed. He smiled in memory of the activities of the night. Even with the overwhelming visions of the dragon, he now knew what his brother had been smiling about in the
bathhouse.  He was a man now, an adult of the village. He could build a house. He could choose how he would contribute. He had been thinking about this for some time. Now that he could shoot with a bow with such accuracy   He wanted to be a hunter. His shot with the bow had become deadly, and he rarely missed. Usually that was due to some distraction such as Mesiande poking him.

He got up. The room was in a bit of shambles, and he smiled remembering how it had gotten that way. There were no blankets on the bed, and one of the chairs had been knocked over when they had been at the wall. Dorien had said that the elder would teach him, but she really had not had much opportunity. She had moved them to different positions a couple times but mostly she had walked with him in his hunger. He did not know how else to describe it. It had seemed an overwhelming hunger. He eyed the table of food
and the delicacies it contained. Now that one need was sated, he found that he was ravenous. He moved to the table of food and began devouring everything close to him. He could not remember ever being this hungry.

His thoughts drifted back to Mesiande. He had always enjoyed being with her. Lately, all she had to do was be nearby, and he was aware of her. He noticed things that he wasn’t sure had been there before. Little things like the way she would move her hair out of her eyes, or when she had her hands on her little hips to scold him. Like most Daezun women, she was stocky and more than capable of holding her own in the mines, but the way her body moved and the curves that showed in her mining pants made him long to run his hands along them. He imagined her in his bed as the elder had been, his hands running over her naked body. He smiled, and his body stirred at the mere image of his Mesiande laying beneath him. It would not be wild when he took her to his bed. It would be slow and wondrous.

He was so lost in this vision of Mesiande that when the knock came at the door, he jumped knocking over the glass of juice near his arm. He realized he was naked and at that moment, a bit more noticeably so in response to dreaming of Mesiande. He glanced about wildly for clothing and eventually settled for wrapping a blanket about him before opening the door. Dorien just grinned at him and held out a pile of clothes.

“Brought you some clothes as I doubt you want to come to council in those pants you had on last night."
 Dorien winked at him, his eyes glimmered with amusement at the embarrassment of his little brother.

Alador turned a bright red and took the pile with his free hand without a word. The other hand was holding the blanket closed at his side. He could not quite look his brother in the eye, but it was more that he had been caught fantasizing then what had happened throughout the night.

“You alright?  I mean you look a little flushed. Maybe I should send the healer in to check things out, make sure nothing is amiss."  Dorien’s eyes sparkled with mirth at the wide eyed look on Alador’s face.

Alador was horrified at the idea of the healer running her hands over his body at the moment. He shook his head adamantly still not quite able to find his voice.

“When you are dressed, join us at the alehouse."  Dorien turned and walked off chuckling at the look on Alador’s face.

Alador stood in the doorway staring at his brother’s back. It was only when he noticed a couple of middlins staring at him that he slammed the door shut in sheer embarrassment. He swiftly attempted to dress, hopping about on one foot to get his breeches on. Despite being alone, he had a sudden urgency to get dressed. So much so he fell over trying to get the second foot in.

He was surprised to see that the clothing provided to him was new. The leather britches were a warm brown. They had been worked to the point that the leather was soft and held none of the stiffness of typical fresh leather. The shirt was a darker brown linen. The leather cords were well tended, the two sides usually roughened in the cut had been rubbed smooth with wax. He finished pulling on the clothes and realized he had no boots. He had left them in the bathhouse last night. He should have grabbed them. It would not sit well with his maman if he had his boots stolen again. He frowned not really wanting to go to the alehouse barefoot. However, it turned out as he stepped out on the steps that his brother had seen to that as well. A pair of well worked leather boots sat upon the steps. He sat down and put them on. They fit well, and he wondered at how clothing had been prepared that fit so well and yet he had no knowledge of their making. He now was dressed as an adult and it felt strange. Most middlins wore hand downs that fit poorly and had patched holes. He had been wearing his brothers’ casts off all his life. He had never had anything of his own other than his boots. He stomped the boots out a bit. They were stiff and not as comfortable as the pair he had left last night. He knew they would need broken in, but he planned to save them for more formal events and use his old ones in the field.

He walked slowly towards the alehouse. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, and the sounds of those rebuilding from the dragon’s fire could be heard. The hammering and sawing was the most prevalent sound. It was quieter than usual, but then that was to be expected given the deaths during the fires. The morning freshness was sullied by the scent of smoldering wood and scorched earth.

He nodded to other adults that were about and greeted him with a knowing smile. Some of the women were whispering and eyeing him. More than one seemed to be sizing him up, and he didn’t understand what the looks meant. He looked down at his clothing, but he seemed put together well enough. He didn’t see any of the middlins about, but he realized he really didn’t want to answer the thousand questions he would be required to refuse to answer. He remembered asking his brothers both what had happened, and they had both smiled and said he would know in time. Now he would be the one answering with such a knowing smile.

He supposed that everyone knew what had happened, after all they were all brought into adulthood the same way. His eyes narrowed as he thought Mesiande. He did not like the thought of any male touching her as he had been touched. A soft growl emanated from his throat as he felt anger rise in him. The audible growl surprised him, and he looked around to make sure no one noticed. No such luck, he took a deep centering breath as he realized people were looking at him strangely. A couple of the women nearby giggled as they went about hanging out the morning wash. His brother had been right. If he did not hide his emotions better, he would be sent away. When had they changed?
 He had always cared for Mesiande and hoped to be her housemate, but there had been little hope in that, so he had remained the good friend. This wave of possessiveness, when had that started?  He forced his thoughts away from Mesiande and back to the path before him. He stood staring at his feet, struggling to contain the strong feelings he was currently experiencing. He had never struggled much with emotions except when Trelmar was around. Lately, he seemed to be nothing but a torrent of feelings. He did not like it.

He forced himself to think on other things and started back along the path. What could be so important that he was being summoned to the
alehouse?  It was where the adults often gathered to speak of the day. Many trading disputes had been settled over a cup of ale. Meetings for the whole village were held in the circle. So this wouldn’t be all the adults and elders for the alehouse would not hold them all.

When Alador got to the
alehouse, his brother was lounging against the wall outside. Despite his relaxed posture, his body was tense. Dorien was not in his usual blacksmithing clothes but rather wore a similar set of clothing though his shirt was a deep green. His eyes were not full of his usual mirth and manner, there was a strange seriousness to them. Dorien clasped him around the shoulders with a warm smile that did not match the rest of his body language. “I do not know what you did this time, but it must have been really good!”

It was the only warning Alador had before he was ushered inside. Things were moving so quickl
y since the dragon had attacked.  He let himself be guided inside without much thought or response. His eyes widened as he saw the inside of the alehouse. There was not the usual bustle of patrons and buzz of conversation. It was, in fact, very still with only a low murmuring. In the center, a long row of tables had been pushed together and at it sat the elders’ council. A few of the leading adults were gathered about, as well. Alador’s eyes were very large as he looked at the solemn gathering. He had expected to go to the alehouse for a celebration of entering adulthood. This was not what he had pictured.

Dorien’s face fell as well seeing their somber gaze. “Or not."
 He muttered under his breath, but Alador still heard him.

Alador swiftly assessed the table to see if anyone else had heard Dorien. They did not seem to have, and as they moved more fully into the room, all eyes turned to the two young men. “Please have a seat."
 Velkar, the elder in the center of the council, gestured to two seats that were fairly centered before the table. His tone was not threatening, but it was formal.

Alador had only heard that tone once before, and that had been when a middlin had been sent to another village for being too forward with the females. Both men walked slowly to the indicated chairs and sat down gazing about the table somewhat worriedly. Alador folded his hands into his lap, more to keep them still th
an anything. His heart was pounding in his chest as the two sat before the council. The few adults in the room stood around the edges. They were armed and this concerned Alador very much. He met Dorien’s gaze and saw the acknowledgement that all was not well.

As Alador looked around the table trying not to squirm under the council’s assessing gaze, his eyes met those of Meradeth who smiled at him then looked away.
Well
,
he thought,
it can’t be that bad if she is smiling.
He smiled back remembering some of the moments of last eve. He could not help but notice she did not look quite so old this morning as she had just two days earlier. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not realize for a moment that Velkar was speaking to him.

“Alador, while you were in ritual, the council met. There was a great deal of discussion of events as of late in regards to matters surrounding you. Your find, the bathhouse, and the dragon; there is a concern that some magical taint has been transferred to you due to the size of your bloodstone."
 Velkar’s aged voice was slowly paced. His eyes had a hawk like quality as he peered over his narrow nose at Alador. Whether it was to make his point or because he could not see did not matter, Alador squirmed as if the man could see straight to his most inner thoughts. The rest of the council nodded somberly as Alador looked around the table and even Meradeth lost her smile as the accusation was laid before him.

Alador felt his brother kick him under the table even as he looked at Alador passively. He barely contained the cry that rose in his throat and so he coughed instead. Alador knew in that moment that not just his place in the village but his family’s was
also at risk. Dorien did not deserve any taint from any actions that Alador was responsible for and he had considered Dorien’s words from their previous discussion on such matters. He had been different since he had found the stone. Had his father’s power finally awakened in him from having touched such a large stone?  He felt something stir deep within as if he had called something up. It was uncomfortable and hot. He pushed the feeling away as he worked to answer the elder calmly. Panic was what he felt but when he finally spoke it was calm and very unemotional. “If this is true, Elder Velkar, then my father’s trip is around the time of circle. He tests me every year to see if I have gained any such abilities.”

“Yes, Yes. This is what we thought."
 Velkar gestured to the council about him. “We will want, this year, for your father’s testing to be before the council."  The Elder said with a decided tone of finality. He eyed Alador with that piercing scrutiny.

“Y-yes elder."
 Alador responded as he dropped his eyes in deference. He was boiling with mixed emotions. There was relief that they were not going to cast him out with the random events that he, himself, could not explain. But there was also fear, Dorien had made good points yesterday, and it was very likely he had finally awakened the magic within his Lerdenian blood.

“Do you feel different Alador?"
 Luciesa asked quietly. She was second upon the council, and Alador and his friends had often joked privately that her age could be determined by counting her wrinkles. Of course, no one could count all of them without losing track or showing disrespect. She currently sat to the right of Velkar and clearly had a more tender manner then the elder who sat at her side. She and Velkar had been housemates and really were inseparable in most things. However, it didn’t mean she didn’t speak her mind against Velkar if she did not agree.

He did not raise his eyes for fear that the emotional turmoil that twisted within him would be seen. “I have felt overwhelmed since finding the stone, Elder Luciesa."
 He responded honestly.

“How so?"
 She asked with a smooth consoling manner. Her face may have been covered with age, but her eyes were as sharp as any adult.