The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3) (38 page)

Saxthor saw the small commotion. He excused himself as he slipped around through the crowd to the boat. “That’s his official post,” he said, to the man flailing at the feisty bird. “It’s best not to defy him.”

The man gave Saxthor a quizzical look, but stopped swatting at Twit. The little wren bobbed along the steering oar settling near the tip out of the man’s way. Though nothing occurred to cause it, that Saxthor could see, Twit suddenly flew up on the man’s shoulder and dropped a little poop pellet, then flew back to his post and settled down. The man looked at Saxthor with a frown, thumped the poop off his shoulder, and looked ahead, as if nothing had happened.

“Twit has to have the last word,” Saxthor said to the man, who nodded but still frowned.

The royal party thanked the town’s gracious citizens for such a memorable celebration.

“We’ve one more surprise for Your Highness,” the burgomaster said. “We, that is, the town officials, have named yesterday, the day of your arrival, Prince Saxthor Day. It will be honored and celebrated each year in the future.”

With that announcement, Saxthor and his companions stepped aboard the vessel and waved good-bye to the crowd that covered the docks and gawked from the lampposts. To the crowd’s excitement, the handsomely arrayed oarsmen pushed the sleek vessel off from the docks and rowed off up the Southern Nhy toward Konnotan with Twit in control at the helm.

*

Though they had a full complement of oarsmen, the three returning men were so excited they insisted on taking their turns at the oars to burn off the excess energy they felt from being so close to home.

“You mean you need to row due to gluttony,” Tonelia said, looking at the three of them. She reached over and patted Bodrin’s new tummy. Bodrin glared up at her, and then insisted on replacing an oarsman. Tonelia displayed a victorious smirk then stared out over the river.

She could see the excitement in their faces, but it made her homesick for Hoya. The pastures, fields, and even the forests that lined the river looked beautiful to them. Saxthor and Bodrin kept pointing out this landmark or that from their childhood, when they sailed down this stretch of the river with Tournak. She looked back at them. Though Bodrin pulled hard on his oar, he and Saxthor chatted like boys. The Vos Plain had a bad year, but the whole of this land was their home, and home had never looked so splendid to them, after so many years.

It was late winter with frost and ice like lace along the river on the winter mornings. The first spring bulbs flowered sporadically along the river’s edge. The buds poked through the leaf litter and patches of snow heralding the coming spring. The bright flowers nodded in the breeze as if welcoming the prince and his party.

“The spring will bring with it marching armies from the Ice Mountains,” Saxthor said. “Soon war will embroil the peninsula’s kingdoms and principalities.”

“You’ve done your best,” Tonelia said.

“You mean, we’ve all done our best,” Saxthor said, hugging Tonelia.

“That’s enough of that,” Bodrin said, chuckling.

The small vessel rounded a bend in the river, and the forest drew aside like a curtain revealing Konnotan. The three men returning after nearly eight years in exile stood at the bow and stared at the city’s splendid white limestone vision. The walls glistened in the cool winter light of midday. The snow had melted from the roofs revealing their warm ochre tiles. The cleaned and polished city sported garlands and the Calimon flag everywhere. The dominant royal palace stood as a welcoming ornament over the city’s center.

Indeed, when the vessel docked at the royal dock, the whole town had turned out to welcome the long-lost prince and his companions. It was a miracle to the citizens, who’d despaired at having neither of their princes in residence.

After the queen’s recent death, the prince regent was a lonely old man, holding the reins of government in reluctant hands. The princess royal lived quietly out of sight in the palace so that the monarchy, that should have been the kingdom’s social center, was seldom visible. The royal melancholy had plunged the kingdom into a sad state. Now the kingdom’s lost youth was returning home in triumph, renewing hope for the nation.

The city officials stood at the docks to welcome them. At their center were the Prince Regent Augusteros and Princess Royal Nonee. Saxthor, Augusteros, and Nonee all had tears in their eyes at the sight of each other. None of them had thought such a homecoming possible just months before.

Saxthor leaped off the boat and approached his stranger-father after so many years. The two read a lifetime of pain and joy in each other’s eyes. They hugged, and the whole city was silent for the moment. Tonelia’s eyes teared.

The citizens went wild. In the excitement, people danced in the streets and celebrated such that a dozen jubilant citizens danced off the docks into the river. Saxthor hugged his sister, kissing her on the cheek. He could barely remember her from his childhood.

Bodrin jumped off the boat onto the dock and ran to his parents. They’d rushed to town to meet their son, when the Prince Regent had sent his carriage with the news of the imminent return. Counter to her usual calm nature, Countess Betsoya had pushed aside the palace driver and galloped the horses to town to meet Bodrin.

Memlatec, who wasn’t much on fuss and sentimentality, was there to greet his most devoted and loved assistant, Tournak, who had spent so much of his life raising and guarding the exiles. Few noticed the old wizard hug the assistant, who was as much a son to him as the younger men were to their parents.

Even Twit got emotional, when greeting his old wizard after so long. The sentimentality ended abruptly, when the dignified old wren got tangled in the wizard’s beard. He endured unending humiliation hanging upside down while Memlatec picked him out.

His mate was there, too, with a large flock of jubilant birds. When Twit was free and flew up to them, he marveled at the number of wrens who had turned out to greet him. Who are all these wrens, Twit wondered to his mate.

They’re your children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, she assured him.

The old bird flew up on a post and inspected the lot. He looked with suspicion at his mate. They cannot all be my progeny. You sure they’re not YOUR relatives? No one could say if Mrs. Twit blushed or not.

The town’s officials had agreed to allow the returning heroes the afternoon to spend with their families, as long as the heroes agreed to return to their fellow citizens for the evening’s celebration. The city fathers assured the Prince Regent that nothing could surpass the night’s festivities.

The mob clamored they must have their prince and heroes. They wouldn’t allow the royal family to depart for the palace until the Prince Regent promised to deliver the heroes himself for dinner, with the whole city, at the stadium. With their most grateful approvals, Augusteros and Prince Saxthor promised to return. Most of their subjects walked beside the royal coach all the way to the palace.

Bodrin and his family, Memlatec, Tournak, Tonelia, Delia, Twit, the Sengenwhan queen and princess royal, and even the Heedran oarsmen were guests of honor at the palace, where they retired for private reunions. They rested in the afternoon, knowing the night’s festivities would be exhausting if the celebrations at Favriana and Heedra were any indication. All the rich delicacies were killing the poor adventurers, accustomed to the bare necessities and simple foods.

In the evening, the city’s officials went to the palace to escort the royal family and their guests to the stadium, where the whole city had gathered. The city leaders formally welcomed the royal family and their guests for a feast unlike any other.

In the whole population’s presence, Prince Regent Augusteros stood and officially welcomed home his son, Prince Saxthor, proclaiming him Prince of Hoya. He then elevated Bodrin to Count Bodrin Vicksnak de Vicksylva. The regent recognized Wizard Tournak for his courage and devotion, and hardily thanked him for virtually raising Saxthor. Tournak would serve with Memlatec as High Wizards to the Royal Court of Neuyokkasin. To honor the period of exile and restoration, Augusteros renamed the royal palace Helshian Court Palace. Tonelia Tezentok de Hoya was henceforth Baroness Tezentok de Hoya in her own right with the rights, privileges, and estates associated with the title. The prince regent granted Lady Tezentok the privilege of marrying Count Bodrin Vicksnak de Vicksylva as per their request that afternoon.

The whole city erupted, shouting approval of these royal decrees. The citizens cheered and tossed hats, and the excited city officials only managed to get them to return to their seats by announcing the delicious feast was ready for their consumption. The speeches and feasting went on into the night and no one could remember any celebration like it. It was nearly midnight when staff cleared the tables. The musicians played on as most citizens danced to the court’s delight.

The occasion was such a success, and the unbridled joy so loud, no one noticed the swooshing of wings that came up the Nhy in the darkness. Not until flames shot across high above the stadium did the populace realize the Dragon Magnosious had returned home to Konnotan.

“It’s found us,” Saxthor said.

The great beast circled the stadium, seeing his potential feast dancing around in the torchlight. Nurturing by Earwig and the Dark Lord had produced an exceptional beast even among dragons. Magnosious was now more than a hundred feet long, with a belly that could hold a fully loaded ox cart with the oxen attached. The torchlight danced eerily on the massive, bronze colored scales of his plating. His eyes flashed brilliant red in the darkness, and his hundred fangs dangled like ivory spikes amid the many tendrils that sprouted from his jaws. The citizens of Konnotan bolted in panic. They fled out from the stadium gates, seeking shelter in the darkness from a force of evil; they’d no hope of resisting.

Magnosious’ massive wings flapped, and the windblast behind them blew over anything not tied down. Again, the circling dragon snorted fire and shot flames high into the night sky. The billowing fire lit the stadium like the day, and exposed those there to the dragon’s malice. Magnosious was searching for Prince Saxthor before settling down to a full dinner of charred citizens. His mission was to slay the prince and return him to the Evil One with the jewels intact.

The great beast swooped down over the stadium time and again, enjoying the terror the swooshing of his massive bat-like wings created. He dipped down here and there to pluck a morsel from the waves of people, scrambling over each other to escape.

A flick of his tail smashed the main exit from the stadium, trapping the crowds inside to race around the perimeter in a desperate effort to flee. Magnosious circled wider and snorted fire into the bell tower just outside the stadium. The flames’ intense heat caused the bell chamber and roof to explode. The great dragon laughed his sinister laugh that echoed around the stadium, chilling everyone.

As the monstrous dragon was circling the enclosure, another wretched creature was hobbling through a service gate, this one entering against the flood of those escaping. Only iron-will hatred propelled the grotesquely disfigured Earwig through the gates toward the royal dais at the far end of the stadium. The hag wheezed, hobbling across the arena’s grassy center. A fiendish grin appeared in anticipation of her triumph, when she would call down the full fury of her precious Magnosious. Surely, in this, her final attempt, she could destroy the entire royal family in a single blast of the dragon’s nostrils. She staggered to the stadium’s center and raised herself to stand erect for this, her blaze of glory. Earwig raised her arms as the full force of hatred and jealousy welled up inside her. She prepared to command the great dragon…

A thunderous plop sounded as Magnosious landed in the stadium center, oblivious to the lump beneath him. He stood back up, staring at the royal family, still standing on the dais. The city officials had fled, when the dragon first circled. The stadium was nearly empty. Those crushed beneath him would make an acceptable meal when he was finished charring the royal family and picking through the remains for the jewels he must take back to his master.

Magnosious took pleasure in the hopelessness of his victims upon the stage. His leathery skin creaked under the bony scales of his massive head when he grinned at them. The brilliant scarlet eyes flashed brighter, still, as he uttered a low guttural rumble. Magnosious raised his head and snorted flames into the night as a prelude to his next move and their last vision.

The royal family’s stunned personal guards recovered their senses and feebly shot arrows at the dragon, which ignored the barbs, bounding off his scales. Magnosious allowed the soldiers to hurl their spears and shoot their arrows until they ran out. In desperation, the captain of the guards drew his sword and charged the great beast.

Magnosious watched the man rush within twenty feet of him, then coughed a ball of flame, roasting the man in his armor to medium-well. With a grin, he deftly plucked the smoldering man from the ground, shook off the armor and popped the morsel down his throat.

The effect on the remaining guards was total despair. The soldiers surrounded the royals and Memlatec, hustling them off the dais to the temporary safety of the subterranean storage chambers.

Saxthor’s anger at the attack on his people welled up inside him. It blended with his love for the father he’d lost as a boy and just found again. For all its massive bulk and power, the dragon wouldn’t separate him from his family again. As his anger and love intensified, so did Yamma-Mirra Heedra’s ring glow.