The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (6 page)

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Authors: V. R. Cardoso

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: The Dragon Hunter and the Mage
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“Are you thirsty?” the Emperor asked.

Cassia was standing at the room’s entrance, holding a jar of white wine and two glasses.

“Not really.” The Empress set the wine and glasses on a mahogany table by the door. “You look tired.”

Tarsus let a sigh answer in his stead. He did not remember not feeling tired. He shrugged and got closer to her. Softly, he held her waist and smelled the hair around her neck. Cassia’s body tightened.

“Help me undress,” he said, turning his back to her. “Did you have a nice day?”

Cassia moved his once black hair out of the way and unlocked the pin holding the blue cape around his shoulders.

“Yes,” the Empress replied.

How he hated when all he could get out of her was a yes or a no. He nodded affirmatively, pretending the answer pleased him.

“Fadan behaved nicely today,” he said. “No nonsense in the kitchens or that sort of thing.”

Cassia exhaled loudly. She grabbed Tarsus’s blue cape and carried it to a corner. The Emperor stood watching her folding the cape over and over before laying it down. He could not remember one single time in his life he had not thought she was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen.

With her back to Tarsus, Cassia folded the cape. Then folded it again, and again.

“Come here,” Tarsus said.

She straightened, exhaled loudly again and turned around.

“Take off your dress.”

Cassia looked outside through the window and recalled a time when she had believed that one day she would get used to this. Then she remembered one other time before that, when she had been in another man’s room. He had had blond hair with misbehaved curls and hadn’t needed to ask her the same thing.

 

The light from Fadan’s torch burned on Aric’s blond, curly hair. In front of him, the corridor stretched like a well. The Crown Prince had the feeling that the darkness might never end.

“Are you sure this is the way?” he asked.

“Of course, I’m sure,” Aric replied in a whisper. “Now be quiet.”

Fadan protested inaudibly. They tiptoed across the corridor with the light of the torch trembling on the stone walls. Eventually, they arrived at a rust eaten railing, and Aric dislodged two metal bars with a kick. On the other side, a black river flowed silently. The smell told them it was a sewer.

“You want to know something really exciting?” Aric asked. “If you go that way, you’ll get to the dungeons.” He stretched an arm, pointing in the same direction the river was running.

“I’m sure they’re charming. We should spend an evening there one of these days.”

Aric shook his head in disappointment and walked the other way. They ran along the sewer until they reached a crossing. There, three rivers of dark, foul smelling water joined in a large circle to then leave through the canal they had just come from. Aric pointed at a trap door in the center of the crossing’s ceiling.

“Up there is the Paladin’s headquarters. This is where they dump the apprehended Runium.”

“That’s your plan? Wait for them to dump a shipment?”

“Of course not! They only do it every once in a while. They must store their apprehensions and only dump them when their storage is full. All we have to do is go in, find the storage room, and take a small vial.”

“A small vial… it’s as if you’re talking about strawberry jam. Are you mad?! That place must be crawling with Paladins.”

Aric placed his torch on a wall hanger, climbed up an iron ladder nailed to the wall, pushed the trap door, and disappeared into the Paladin headquarters. One short moment later, his head popped back out.

“Do you really think they expect someone to have the nerve to walk into their main headquarters? They don’t even lock this thing.”

Fadan stood motionless for a moment, staring in utter disbelief at Aric’s face hanging from the trap door. Then he shrugged, put down his torch, and climbed up as well.

The room was a dark cubicle with nothing except for the trap door. What little light there was inside came from its only entrance. Aric walked up to a corner and snuck a peek, then called his brother with a gesture. Gliding through the wall, they penetrated deeper into the Paladins headquarters and stopped at a door. Aric opened it carefully and looked inside. He saw only a few shelves covered in spider webs and an upturned bucket.

They kept going, tiptoeing along the same corridor until they heard voices. They had arrived at an intersection where one of the corridors seemed to lead to a common room or dining hall where the voices came from. Obviously, they chose to go through the other one.

With each step they gave, Fadan looked over his shoulder twice. Until Aric shoved a palm on Fadan’s chest, making him stop. With an index finger over his lips, Aric made a silent shush.

With careful steps, Aric peeked around a corner, then signaled Fadan to do the same. The Prince stepped in front of his brother and leaned forward. On the other side, a Paladin was sitting on a small wooden stool with his head hanging over his chest. Was he sleeping? Fadan made the question with a gesture. Aric shrugged.

They peeked again, this time simultaneously. Suddenly, a noise made them jump. The two brothers shrank against the wall and heard a voice becoming louder. They looked in one direction, and then the other. There wasn’t much choice. They turned the corner and darted past the sleeping Paladin, slipping into the room behind him.

It looked to be a library, with bookshelves reaching as far as darkness allowed them to see. In a hurry, they snuck in between two of them and crouched, waiting. The voices grew louder and louder. Aric felt something slapping his shoulder and looked at his brother. Fadan was staring at the shelf next to them, his eyes ready to pop out. Aric could not believe it.

Those weren’t books, those were flasks. Thousands of them.

For a moment, Aric forgot fear entirely, grabbing two of them. The red liquid inside was thicker than stew but shone like a plate of armor in front of a fireplace. If that wasn’t Runium, nothing was. He slid the two vials into his jacket.

“HAHA! Look at him, bravely guarding the storeroom,” a rough voice sneered from outside.

“Nothing gets past you, big guy,” another voice said in an annoying tone.

“Huh?! Wh
a‒
… let me go, you bastard,” a third, sleepy voice protested.

Aric felt the hand of his brother pulling him back. They both held their breaths. This place had only one way out, and apparently it was now crowded with Paladins.

Crouching, Aric moved towards the end of the shelf so he could take a better look at the exit. Fadan’s arms protested, but Aric just signaled him to be still. At that moment, he wanted to be a Mage more than ever. All it would take would be a sip from one of those flasks and with a simple gesture, he could make the Paladins go away.

“What’s that?” the annoying voice asked.

The two brothers froze.

“A shelf, idiot,” the rough voice replied.

“Seriously. I saw something move.”

There were several laughs, followed by comments on the amount of wine the Paladin with the annoying voice had drank. Aric looked behind him and saw Fadan dislodging a wooden box from the lower shelf, and then cross through to the other side. He looked at the entrance once again and saw a shadow growing into the storeroom.

“Over there. I swear I saw something,” the annoying voice said.

The one with the rough voice really didn’t care, replying, “Of course you did. A rat. Good luck finding it.”

“Fire take the both you!” the sleepy one said. “Won’t you shut up!?”

Aric saw the shadow grow bigger and bigger. He tried to find some place to hide, but all he could see were vials and more vials.

“It wasn’t a rat,” the annoying voice insisted.

“Right. If you won’t let me sleep, I’m getting myself a drink.”  

“Good idea.”

Aric heard a slap on someone’s back, followed by disappearing footsteps. The two men had clearly walked away, and the third must have turned around because Aric saw his shadow become thinner.

“Bastards!” he cursed.

Then, the shadow grew thicker once more, and Aric could see the contour of his head and shoulders again. He looked everywhere for a hiding place, but the only thing he saw was the box Fadan had removed from the shelf. He ran and placed himself behind it, but immediately felt ridiculous. A small dog would not have been able to hide behind it.

At that moment, he looked up and saw the Paladin. He was a tall, thin man, and wore the black cuirass and red waistband of the Paladin uniform. For a moment, the Paladin did not see him and Aric walked back instinctively, trapping himself against the wall. Then, the man turned, gaze locking on him.

The Paladin’s eyes bulged and his hand drew a long knife from his belt. He opened his mouth to yell something, but before he could, Fadan came out from behind another shelf case, a massive wooden board in his hands. The Prince smacked the man across the head and he collapsed.

“Quick!” Fadan said, then dashed away.

Aric didn’t need to hear that twice. He raced after his brother, the two of them running through the corridors. If someone had heard or seen them they had no idea. How they found the right way back to the trap door was a similar mystery. They opened it, dove into the sewer, swam to the walkway, and then kept running. They only stopped when they reached the railing they had broken on their way in.

Panting heavily, they stood before it, collecting their breaths, hoping their hearts didn’t jump out from their chests. Aric felt his jacket pockets and removed the two vials. One was broken and its content had disappeared. The other, however, was as intact as when he had picked it up in the storeroom.

 

Panting, Tarsus wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. He looked at Cassia beside him and stared at her naked chest, rising and falling with her breath. He laid a caring hand on her arm, but she rolled onto her side, turning her back to him. What he would have given for her not to do that….

“I love you,” he said.

“I’m tired.” Cassia pulled a blanket and covered herself. “We should sleep.”

Every man suffers the same
, people had told him.
It’s the curse of marriage
, he had heard between laughter. Tarsus wasn’t so sure.

“Everything I do for you, I do out of love,” he confessed.

Cassia turned and faced him.

“Everything you do… everything you did… that’s not love. That’s selfishness.” Cassia turned her back to him once again.

Tarsus stared at the ceiling without an answer. If only she could understand.

“Your birthday is coming,” he said.

“I know. I’m sure you won’t spare any expense to make sure the festivities are magnificent.” There was no joy in her voice.

“You call me selfish…” Tarsus said. “Very well. Ask for anything.”

Cassia turned to the emperor. “What?”

“I’m going to prove to you that while you are mine, I am willing to give you anything. As your birthday gift, you can ask me anything.”

Cassia looked at him suspiciously.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Anything.”

There was a silence while the Empress studied her husband. Was he serious?

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