The Dragon Lord's Daughters (27 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: The Dragon Lord's Daughters
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“Thank you, Lady,” she called, but all was silent. Not even the wind made a sound, and the icy surface of the lake remained smooth. Maia turned, and walked back to the castle. For the next few days she and Drysi ate from the trays that magically appeared in Maia's dayroom twice daily. Their fires burned without wood being added. The Lady was caring for them for whatever reason, but the Lord of the Lake remained missing. Finally, when ten days had passed, Maia had had enough. She climbed to the battlements one bright morning, and called forth the Lady of the Lake once again.
The air had the faintest hint of warmth in it this day. It would be March shortly.
Maia stood straight. Her voice was stronger than it had ever been. She had to do this. For herself, for the child now growing in her belly, for Emrys. “Lady, come forth! It is not enough! You must return my husband to me.”
“Must? Must?” The Lady appeared without her usual trumpet of thunder. “You are in no position to make demands of me, bold girl,” she told Maia.
“You fear being alone in this world where magic is fast disappearing,” Maia said quietly. “But it need not be that way, Lady.”
“What do you mean?” the Lady asked. “If my son grows old and dies I will be alone. If he embraces his mortality that is what must happen. If I convince him to let only fairy blood run in his veins, he will be forced to watch you grow old and die. I know he loves you, and such a happening would break his heart.”
“He is a mortal, Lady. And, aye, he will grow old one day and die. But his blood will live on in his sons, and his sons' sons,” Maia explained. “You need never be alone. Ever! And as long as there are those who believe in you, your magic will never die.”
“It is the way of the world to forget, Pendragon's daughter. To see, and yet to not believe. Emrys knows of the olden times for he was born into them. He will never forget, and he will always believe,” the Lady said.
“And for this you would condemn him to a loveless life?” Maia replied softly. “Your very actions make true Elaine of Shallot's curse upon the son of Lancelot. You have not protected him at all, Lady.”
“You do not understand!” the Lady cried.
“Nay!” Maia cried back, “I do not! Listen to me, Lady. I did not seek out your son. He sought me out, coming to me first in my dreams, until I sent away all of my suitors and waited for him to come to me. He did, and when he did he asked my father for my hand. My father was reluctant to give his permission, for he sensed that something was not right with your son. But I swore I should have no other, and so we were married. I conceived this child in my belly, Lady. It was meant to be. Emrys and I were meant to be. Give him back to me! Give him back!” And Maia stamped her foot in frustration.
For a long moment the Lady looked as if she could not make up her mind. Maia's words but gave proof of what she had been refusing to see or understand. Her son wanted to embrace his mortality. He loved this mortal woman. She was ripening with his child. And this morning the Lady of the Lake had seen a single silver strand in her son's ebony hair. The locks of fairy men never changed. Though she sought to prevent it, Emrys had embraced his mortality even without her permission. The reality of it all pained her greatly, and with a great cry of sorrow the Lady disappeared beneath the lake.
Maia began to weep with her desperation, and then she felt his hands upon her shoulders. “Emrys?” she whispered, half frightened.
He turned her so that she was facing him. “It is I,” he said, his deep blue eyes hungrily scanning her beautiful face.
Maia burst into a great flood of tears. “Is it really you?” she sobbed. “This is not some magical trick of your mother's?” Her hands ran over his face and shoulders.
“It is I,” he promised her, and then his mouth descended upon hers in a burning kiss. And when he had satisfied himself with her lips he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, the very tip of her nose.
“But how?” Maia sobbed. “She was so obdurate.”
“I am not certain, my darling,” he said, “but I suspect the strength of your love for me was too great even for her magic, and that was what finally overcame her.” His big hand caressed her face.
“Are you really mortal now?” Maia demanded to know, sniffling.
“I am mortal,” he said. “When she spirited me away I told her it was what I wanted. Under fairy law she had no choice but to accept my wishes though she tried hard to convince me otherwise, my love.”
“I am with child,” Maia told him, a small smile touching her lips now. He was safe! Emrys was back with her, and he was safe.
His whole face lit up with the evidence of his joy at her words. “We are to have a child, Maia?”
She nodded.
“Does my mother know?” he asked her.
“Aye. I told her when I demanded your return,” Maia replied.
He laughed aloud. “You demanded of my mother? You are a brave woman, wife. I do not think anyone has ever demanded anything of the Lady.” He chuckled, imagining how his mother had reacted to this girl's behavior. “Let us go in and see if my mother has returned everyone back to the castle. Were you all alone, my darling?” He helped her through the door into the hallway, locking and barring the door behind them.
“Nay, Drysi was with me. The Lady forgot her, and I found her in her tower, Emrys. I helped her to our apartments, and took care of her. I brought wood for the fires, and found food in the kitchens with which I fed us until the last few days when your mother began to relent. The frost fell from the castle walls. The fires never went out although there was no one tending them. And food appeared beneath a covered tray on our sideboard. I had so little to do then that Drysi and I played chess, and hare and hounds. She is good company, Emrys.”
“Drysi was with the rest of us, Maia,” he told her. “I think it was my mother who must have taken her form in order to see what kind of a human you really were, my love.”
“Your mother?” Maia gasped. “No, no! It was Drysi. You should have heard the things she told me, Emrys. It had to be Drysi.”
“And I tell you that Drysi was with me,” he told her. “She was very irritated to be removed from her cozy tower, and complained bitterly to my mother. And she does not play chess, or hare and hounds, Maia. Her sight is not good enough. Nay, it was my mother, and you surely impressed her else nothing you said could have saved us.”
“Then I owe her more than I can ever repay her,” Maia said. “Still, she might have trusted you to have chosen the right woman to marry.”
“After the first two debacles?” He chuckled as they entered their apartments to find them empty. “I think not, knowing my mother. She never had a high regard for humanity to begin with, and my father's behavior but compounded her opinions.”
“Her greatest fear is being alone, Emrys,” Maia said. “I have told her with our progeny, and their descendants, she will never be alone, for we will teach them to know and respect her. I am not certain she believed me.”
“Then you and I must prove her wrong,” the Lord of the Lake said to his wife.
The winter loosened its grip upon the land about Ile du Lac. The Dragon Lord, his women, his son and remaining daughter came at Beltaine on May first. They celebrated beneath the full moon, honoring the old ways. Three months later Maia was delivered of her first child, a daughter. Several days after the child's birth Emrys and his wife took the infant down to the lakeshore, and called on the Lady to come to them.
Rising from the blue waters the Lady reached out to take her grandchild into her arms. Her beautiful imperious face softened as the infant looked up at her with eyes as blue as her own, and a tuft of silver-blond hair. “What is her name?” the Lady asked.
“We would have you name her. It shall become custom that as long as it pleases you, you will name your descendants, Lady,” Maia said.
“Call her Seren, for her eyes are like stars,” the Lady said. Then she placed a kiss upon the infant's forehead, and handed her back to her parents.
“And I have passed your challenge, Lady?” Maia asked, her eyes twinkling.
The Lady of the Lake laughed. “Aye, Daughter,” she told Maia, “you have, indeed. If I had chosen for my son, I could not have done better.”
“And we will be friends?” Maia persisted.
The Lady nodded, and then with a loving smile at them she sank once more beneath the lake, which was her home.
“I never thought to know such happiness,” Emrys Llyn told his wife.
“Nor I, my lord,” Maia responded. She lifted her head up to him for a kiss, and the infant in her arms protested as she was squeezed between her two parents.
They laughed, breaking away.
“She is already exhibiting my mother's disposition,” Emrys said with a grin.
And Maia laughed again. She was indeed happy. Averil was happy. Now it but remained for Junia to find the same happiness, she thought. And together the Lord of the Lake and his wife walked back into their castle, their child in Maia's arms now sleeping.
Part Three
Junia
Chapter
13
G
orawen watched as Junia slipped silently from the hall. The last of the Dragon Lord's daughters was now fourteen. She was a tall, slender girl with wonderfully thick hair the color of ebony with faint gold and red highlights in it; and like her two elder sisters, Junia had green eyes. But unlike Averil whose eyes were a pale green, and Maia who had eyes the color of an emerald, Junia's eyes were a deep leaf green. She had already outgrown her coltishness, and was now a bit taller than her eldest sister, Averil. Her face was a perfect oval, her eyes more round than almond in shape. Her elegant little nose turned up just slightly, and her mouth was long. She had become in a few short years a very beautiful young woman.
They saw little of her, however, for Junia was always out of doors on her horse. She had missed her elder siblings greatly, and when they had first gone she had spent much time with their brother, Brynn; but Brynn was still a boy, and Junia had outgrown him and his games. So she chose to study with the keep's best sword master, and its finest archer. She rode daily, and for hours, often returning home with plants for Gorawen, asking what they were and whether they were of use in making medicines. Gorawen gladly explained the origin and nature of the plants, and taught Junia how to use them, making salves, ointments, pills, and teas.
Junia absorbed all this knowledge but when it came to the lessons of housewifery she was not in the least interested. Cooking bored her. Embroidery was a chore to be avoided. She had not her mother's talent with the needle, and could barely darn her stockings. She learned to make candles, soap and preserves grudgingly. She was happy to hunt for her family, but the dressing of her kill needed to be done by others, for Junia would not do it. With her sisters' departures Junia Pendragon had developed an entirely new personality. She was not longer the littlest sister. She became a very independent girl, and was beginning to exhibit a strong will.
Ysbail came into the hall, looking about. “Have you seen Junia?” she asked Gorawen. “She is to have another embroidery lesson with me though frankly I despair. I have never known anyone so clumsy with a needle.”
“I suspect she has gone out,” Gorawen answered. “The day is fair.”
“If she were older I would swear she was meeting someone,” Ysbail said irritably. “I think it is time for Merin to start seeking a husband for her. She is too wild a girl by far, and before she gets out of control she should have a husband.”
Gorawen nodded. “I agree,” she said, surprising Ysbail. “Junia has grown into a beautiful young woman. I believe our lord will be able to make a good match for her.”
“But I would still wish she was more skilled in the womanly arts,” Ysbail said.
“She need only be skilled in one,” Gorawen said with a small smile. “Have you taught her the things she needs to know to please a husband?”
“Nay,” Ysbail replied. “Each time I try to broach the subject Junia tells me she does not want to hear such things. That she is not ready.” Then Ysbail looked at Gorwen, and said, “Would you try with her? You are far more skilled in the arts of love than either Argel or me. And Junia likes you.”
“If you are certain you want me to speak with her, I will,” Gorawen replied. And the sooner the better. She had believed for some time that Junia was indeed meeting someone even if her mother did not. She did not think these meetings had led to anything yet, but Junia was growing up very quickly. She had also, like her sisters, become very willful in her character, and determined to have her own way when she wanted it. Argel entered the hall to join them, and Gorawen after a few minutes departed to find Brynn. Brynn would know something about where his sister went, and if she was meeting anyone.
Brynn was in the courtyard of the keep practicing hand-to-hand sword combat with the keep's captain-at-arms, Walter. Gorawen watched with interest. The boy was only eleven, but he had a natural skill that promised to turn him into a great warrior one day. Gorawen hoped he should never have to go to war. Merin had gone off now and again in the service of his prince, Llywelyn ap Iowerth. The prince of the Welsh was forever having to protect his rights against the young English king, Henry III, and his nobles. Gorawen was glad for the isolation which kept Dragon's Lair safe.
The lesson done, Brynn walked over to his father's concubine, a woman he loved every bit as much as his mother. “What think you, lady? Am I improving?”
“Greatly,” she told him. “Now come walk with me to cool off, for I would not have you get a chill, son of Merin.”
The boy grinned. He liked Gorawen. She was clever, and she never treated him like a child as did his own mother, and Ysbail. “I have my father's good health, I am happy to say,” he told her as they walked from the courtyard into the small walled garden. It was late summer.
“Tell me where Junia goes each day when she rides out,” Gorawen said without any preamble.
The boy did not flinch. “She rides all over the district, but her favorite spot is the old ruins near Mryddin Water,” he said.
“Who does she meet there?” Gorawen asked.
“Sometimes a Marcher lad. I don't know his family name.”
“You have spied on them?” Gorawen said.
“Nay, I used to go with Junia. The ruins are a grand place to play, Gorawen,” he explained. “Then one day this older boy came riding up. We became friends, the three of us. He has helped me with my swordplay and I have learned a great deal from him.”
“But you do not go with Junia anymore to Mryddin Water?” Gorawen asked.
“Nay, a couple of months ago Junia asked me not to come with her all the time. I think she likes Simon. For a while she giggled at everything he said,” Brynn finished disgustedly.
Gorawen laughed. “Girls do that when they like a boy,” she explained to him.
Brynn rolled his eyes. “I never saw Juni behave in so silly a fashion,” he said.
“Just what do you know of this boy?” she queried him.
“Simon,” he said. “He is Simon.”
“But Simon who?”
Brynn shook his dark head. “I don't know,” he answered her. “He's just Simon to us as we are Brynn and Junia to him.”
Gorawen nodded. It would be that way with young people. The boy rode. That would mean he was from a good family. Peasants did not have horses to ride, nor could they ride. But who was he? And how old was he? And what were he and Junia doing alone in the ruins by Myrddin Water? Yes, it was time for Junia to be matched and wed before she could not be.
And I must learn more about this boy,
Gorawen thought. She would not tell Ysbail, however. Ysbail would immediately jump to all the wrong conclusions and forbid Junia to ride out. And then Junia would disobey her mother, and the war would be on between them.
No,
Gorawen considered silently.
I will learn what this is all about first before I say anything to either Merin or Ysbail.
Unfortunately at the evening meal Ysbail began to complain to the Dragon Lord. “Junia is past fourteen now, my lord, yet you make no effort of which I am aware to find her a husband. Why is that? Do you not hold her in as great esteem as your two other daughters? I know I disappointed you when I did not bear you a son, my lord, but Junia is of your blood as are Averil and Maia.”
The Dragon Lord looked startled at Ysbail's accusation, but it was Argel who quickly spoke up.
“Junia is as highly treasured as any of our good lord's children, Ysbail. Why do you say such things to him? You know your words are not true. When the time is right for a marriage to be made for Junia it will be.” Argel had the strongest urge to slap Ysbail for her outburst.
“I am not ready to marry,” Junia said, surprising them all.
“Your sisters were fifteen when they wed,” Ysbail snapped at her daughter. “Do you think good matches are easily come by, and especially for the daughter of a concubine?”
“I could be content at Dragon's Lair for the rest of my life,” Junia replied calmly. “Perhaps I never want to marry, Mother.”
Ysbail gave a screech, and her hand flew to her heart. “Never want to wed? What foolishness is this, girl? Of course you will marry! What else is there for a girl?” Then a terrified look came into her eye. “You do not have a passion for the church, do you?”
What a catastrophe that would be,
Ysbail thought. She had anticipated spending the rest of her life in comfort with her daughter's family. If Junia preferred a convent she would be forced to remain at Dragon's Lair.
“I have no tendre for the cloistered life, Mother,” Junia said. “I am simply not ready to marry yet. Why do you wish to hurry me along that path?”
“If you wait much longer you will be considered too old,” Ysbail said, trying to calm herself. “You are just nervous, but once your father presents several suitors to you, Junia, you will no longer be afraid.”
“I am neither nervous or afraid,” Junia responded. “I am just not ready.”
“The discussion is ended,” Merin Pendragon said firmly. “In the spring I will seek among the young men for a husband for this youngest of my daughters, but not now, Ysbail. And do not nag me about it again.”
Ysbail clamped her lips shut, but they could all tell she was not satisfied with her lord's answer. Yet she would get no aid from either Argel or Gorawen she knew, for they were in agreement with the Dragon Lord. Still, if she did not stand up for her child, who would? Gorawen could be content with her son-in-law, the lord of Everleigh. Argel was happy that her Maia was married to the Lord of the Lake. But what of poor Junia? She was not the first child born to Merin Pendragon. Nor was she the heiress of Merin Pendragon. Nay, she was the baby born who was not the son they had wanted. Brynn Pendragon held that honor. No, poor Junia was just the youngest daughter. But she had her mother, and Ysbail knew she would stand up for the best match they could obtain for Junia. She had to, else her own old age would not be the contented one she had always envisioned.
Junia grit her teeth and tried not to let her mother annoy her. Why was Ysbail so intent on marrying her off? She was tempted to go up to her room, but she was not yet ready for solitude.
“Come play chess with me, Junia,” Gorawen invited.
“I'll get the board,” Junia replied enthusiastically.
Gorawen brought a small flat table from its place next to the wall, setting it before the hearth between two chairs. Junia brought the board and the chess pieces. Sitting down she set it all up. The board was made of ebony and holly wood. The matching pieces had been carved from ebony and holly, as well. Gorawen took the dark colored pieces as she always did, and they began to play. The early moves were swift and easy, but then they became more difficult.
“Brynn tells me you and he have made a friend of a boy named Simon,” Gorawen said as she moved her knight. “Who is he? From where does he come?”
“You haven't told my mother, have you?” Junia answered the question with a question. “Is that why she has begun nattering at Da to find me a husband?”
“Why would I tell anyone? Yet,” Gorawen responded low.
“He is from the Englishry,” Junia said. “Brynn and I met him several years ago when we began to explore the ruins by Mryddin Water.” She blocked Gorawen's knight.
Gorawen pondered her next move. “How old is he?” she asked.
“When we first met he was sixteen,” Junia said. “Now he is eighteen.”
“I think it not wise you meet him alone now,” Gorawen gently suggested. “Take Brynn with you the next time you go to Mryddin Water.”
“Why? Because I am of an age to wed?” Junia said. “I do not need a nursemaid when Simon and I meet, Gorawen. We do nothing wrong.”
“I did not say you did, my child, and keep your voice down lest you alert your mother who I know would have you confined to the keep should she learn you are riding out to meet with a young man, Junia,” Gorawen warned the girl. “If you like this young man, your father can approach his father about a match. Provided, of course, that he is not already betrothed.” Unable to decide what to do, Gorawen moved another of her pawns. Junia was really a very good player, and always offered her a challenge.
“He is not yet betrothed,” Junia said. “Do you really think Da would try to arrange a match for me with Simon?”
“Do you think Simon would like such a match?” Gorawen said.
“I don't know,” the girl replied, her smooth brow furrowing as she considered the possibility.
“I think the first thing we must know is who Simon's family are,” Gorawen replied. “I assume that since he has a horse he is of good breeding.”
“He is well-spoken, and educated,” Junia volunteered. “We talk on all manner of things. His father knows King Henry.” Her green eyes were sparkling as she offered this bit of information. “And Simon is so handsome, Gorawen!”

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