The Dragon's Rose Page 6

  “Good night, my queen,” Rogan said, and Bella nodded.

  Bella was quiet as Hildevar helped her undress. She slipped beneath the warm soft covers of an opulent bed and looked up at a grand ceiling and could think of nothing but the little servant girl whose father refused to save her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bella awakened slowly. She became conscious in stages, her mind stuck in a thick fog and her limbs aching and tired. Her mind drifted briefly and was confused and bumbling as she tried to think of what huge piece of the puzzle she was missing. She heard noises and, for a moment, wondered if her aunt and uncle had come home from their trip early—Bella shot up. Her world tilted and vision spun as the blood rushed away from her head, and she swooned back down to the pillows.

  She then remembered everything that had transpired the past day or so, and she groaned. There was no chance she was dreaming. She was stuck in some bizarre land that was actually the land of her mother’s birth. If she didn’t find a way back, she’d miss everything—school, her work at the paper, her aunt and uncle. But if she left, she’d be leaving the people in this world to a fate that she couldn’t ignore. She punched her pillows weakly. She wouldn’t give up trying to find a way home, but she’d help the people there as much as she could, she decided.

  She sat up slowly once more and looked around. Various women were in her chambers going about their duties as Hildevar supervised. Bella resisted the urge to groan and lay back down onto the pillows.

  “My queen!” Hildevar chirped happily, and Bella did groan.

  “What is it, Hildevar?” Bella snapped nastily. She was so not a morning person.

  “Our king has decreed that you are to accompany him on a trip to the Darklands, your highness.”

  Bella rubbed her eyes and yawned. “The Darklands? That sounds gnarly. And kinda dangerous. Tell him I said no thanks.”

  Hildevar tried hard to hide her irritation. “My queen, what the king has declared must stand.”

  “And—I said no.”

  “But your majesty—“

  Bella swung her legs off the bed and stalked across the cold floor. A bevy of women rushed about, gathering her slippers and a gown, and tried brushing and braiding her hair as she roved angrily around.

  “What are the Darklands anyway?”

  Hildevar gulped. “They are in fact very dark and twisted. But you will be with Rogan and his men.”

  “That’s a nope.”

  “Where is the king now?”

  “In his study, but my queen, you can’t go in there. It is his personal time, and he has decreed--”

  Bella open the door with force and looked up and down the corridor.

  “Point me in the direction,” Bella ordered, and Hildevar stammered.

  Alannah, on the other hand, trotted happily beside Bella and smiled. “The king will not be happy, my queen. The morning is not his best time of day--”

  “That makes two of us,” Bella grumbled.

  “Perhaps we can get you a nice cup of ale this morn--” Alannah offered.

  “Okay, Alannah, would YOU want to accompany me to the Darklands?”

  “Um—well, no. But I mean—you have Hildevar.”

  Bella threw up her hands. “Even my servants who know everything about this world don’t want to go. You know it’s bad,” she said to no one in particular. “What happened to your warrior spirit, Alannah? Frankly, I’m disappointed.”

  Alannah looked incensed. “If you are insinuating that I am afraid,” Alannah huffed, “Well, I am not, my queen. I will gladly go with you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Why?” Alannah asked before Hildevar could stop her with a sharp rebuke.

  “Because I’m not going, that’s why. Now, where is Rogan’s study?”

  Alannah reluctantly pointed and then followed beside Bella and Hildevar as they made their way through the long hallway.

  Bella followed Hildevar around a corner and up a narrow set of stairs. They rushed through another hallway and to a set of double doors.

  Hildevar raised her hand. “My queen, I must caution you--”

  Bella burst through the doors. “Rogan!”

  Rogan was sitting behind a desk with a tray of something piping hot and a book. He looked up and frowned. The camaraderie they shared the night before had all but faded with his guarded expression and chilly disposition.

  “Wife, what do you want? I am busy,” he spat, and Bella pursed her lips in anger.

  “Husband,” she drawled, “I wanted you to know first-hand that I am NOT going to the Darklands.”

  “And I regret to inform you that you shall. I have decreed it, so it shall be.”

  “Ha!” Bella mocked, “I think not. I’m not going there. I can barely navigate this castle. No way I’m going to some place even more strange and twisted than this.”

  “You will be safe. You will be with me.”

  “I think I’ll take my chances here.”

  “You shall not. My father wishes to meet you. And we will.”

  “I have to meet your father?”

  “Yes, and he is very particular about etiquette and attitude. I suggest you leave your personality here while we are away.”

  Bella let out a short shriek and made to charge Rogan only to have Hildevar hold her back.

  “There is nothing wrong with my personality.”

  “My father will not like it. If he objects to this union, it will be quite possibly the end of our clan.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?” Bella asked, and Rogan sipped his drink thoughtfully.

  “I will not deign to answer that.”

  “Your father sounds charming.”

  “He can be. That is, if we don’t anger him. So please try to muster up a bit of decorum,” Rogan snapped, and Bella shook her head defiantly.

  “Nope. I am not going. I don’t want to meet your dad--”

  “You have to, Bella. This is not up for debate or discussion.”

  “You are not the boss of me,” Bella told him, and he smiled.

  “Actually, I am. I am king.”

  “Well, I’ve got news for you. I. Am. Not. Going. Try that on for size,” Bella threw up the peace sign. “Deuces.”

  “Bella, you are going and that is final!” Rogan roared. Bella turned and saw that his eyes had lit up like twin flames and a curlicue of smoke was leaking from his nose. He looked frightening and he scared Bella just a little, but she refused to be cowed.

  “I don’t care what you say. I won’t go.” Bella said, and Rogan huffed. He pulled out Bella’s necklace and dangled it in front of his face. He spat out a bit of flame and curled it around his fingers. Bella was amazed he didn’t burn or that the fire didn’t spread. He was somehow controlling it as he moved it across his fingers. He held the flame over the necklace.

  “Think of your poor aunt and uncle back on Earth. Think of your birthright falling prey to dragonfire,” he taunted.

  Bella narrowed her eyes and growled low in her throat. She cursed low and hard and then spun on her heel. She could hear Rogan’s laughter as she stomped angrily down the hallway, Hildevar and Alannah in tow.

  “You are going the wrong way,” Alannah told her, only to have Bella exclaim, “I don’t freaking care!”

  Hildevar gently urged Bella the right way and told her, “I will be with you the whole time, my queen.”

  “I will, too!” Alannah chimed in, and Hildevar looked over at her in surprise.

  “We will both be with you,” Hildevar amended. “You will be perfectly safe.”

  Bella grumbled, and they made their way to her chambers. The other servants had made short work of packing her things, and breakfast sat beneath a clear bubble on a tray.

  Hildevar spoke softly, and the bubble popped. Steam rose, and Bella took in a deep breath of the fragrant food. Her stomach rumbled, and she looked about embarrassedly.

  “Please, my queen,” Hildevar pleaded. “Eat. You will feel better with a fu
ll belly.”

  Bella couldn’t argue and sat down to eat. She watched Hildevar and Alannah clean here and there as well as pack a few extra things.

  Bella ate her fill and then sat back. “What are the Darklands like?”

  Hildevar heaved a sigh and stopped her movements. “Exactly as it says. It is a dark place. Nothing grows there. The things that do feed on—well, darkness.”

  “What?!” Bella exclaimed.

  “The things that grow there are quite the opposite of the things we see here. Plants thrive on the two suns. The plants there thrive on the darkness. They look black and twisted; some of them are alive. It isn’t usually safe to walk through.”

  “And we’re going how?”

  “There is only one way through. On foot. Of course, there are some spells that can be used to fold distance and manipulate time, but we cannot fly or shift there,” Hildevar replied, and Alannah nodded.

  “My mother went on a journey there with another clan long ago before I was born. They traveled on foot. It was very dangerous.”

  Hildevar shot Alannah a look. “What?!” she snapped. “She should know what she is getting into!”

  “She is our queen,” she told Alannah, and Alannah nodded.

  “Yes, well,” Alannah continued as she folded a blanket and placed it into a carrier. “A queen should be well informed.”

  Bella raised her glass. “Here, here.”

  Hildevar shot Bella a look, and she giggled. Hildevar caught herself and looked away.

  “No, Hildevar, that was great. Let go sometimes. I don’t mind.”

  HIldevar sighed and then looked Bella square in the eye. “I can speak my mind, milady?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I have your word?”

  Bella shrugged. “Sure.”

  Bella felt a shiver hit her, and she looked around.

  “What was that?”

  Hildevar blinked. “An oath.”

  Bella sighed. “OMG! What is with you guys and oaths?”

  “I don’t know what that means, but oaths are valuable to our people.”

  “You have my oath then.”

  “I think you should just listen to Rogan. He’s a good man, and he knows what he is doing.”

  “Blah, blah. Tell me something else.”

  “Bella, he isn’t like the others around here. He really wants to make things better for all of us. And with you by his side, he can make that happen,” Hildevar insisted.

  Bella looked over at Alannah who nodded. “I agree.”

  “But I have a life! I have things to do!”

  “What’s more important than saving an entire world?” Hildevar queried, and Bella was at a loss for words for a moment.

  “My freedom, that’s what!”

  “Rogan will treat you well. You will have the freedom you want,” Alannah told her, and Bella shook her head.

  “You don’t understand. I like my life. I want to help, but—I don’t know. There are ways for me to go about it without having to leave everything behind and get married, I’m sure.”

  “There is no other way. The promise is what it must be. And honestly, you’re not getting a bad lot. Rogan is--” Hildevar hesitated, “Rogan is nice on the eyes. And he’s nice on the inside too. You’re quite lucky. My future husband looks like a toad.”

  Alannah giggled. “Mine, too. I am loathe to have to lay with him. But it is my duty.”

  Hildevar said nothing a moment and then spoke up. “I—I love Frenrir, actually.”

  Bella racked her brain, feeling as if she’d heard the name before. A lightbulb seemed to go off for her, and she smiled widely. “One of Rogan’s men?”

  “Yes, but I am promised to another.”

  “Why can’t you all just marry who you want?” Bella asked, and the two shrugged.

  “It is how things are done,” Hildevar answered. Bella thought of this and frowned, the wheels turning in her head.

  Bella sighed. “I don’t know how you all just accept things.”

  Alannah shrugged. “I donna want to,” she said. “But what can be done? I am far better off here in the castle than out there, tending to a barren plot of land with many bairn I canna take care of with a husband who drinks.”

  Hildevar nodded as they arranged the room. Bella chewed on her food thoughtfully.

  “So, if I go with Rogan and meet his—father, what will happen?”

  Hildevar stopped what she was doing and looked up at Bella. “He will bless the marriage. It is tradition.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  Hildevar looked a bit uncomfortable and looked over at Alannah who said nothing.

  “He will,” Hildevar breathed.

  “But what if he doesn’t?”

  “It has only happened once in a dragon clan,” Alannah commented, and Hildevar’s face filled with anger.

  “Remember, Hildevar, you promised you would tell me everything.”

  Hildevar finished folding a delicate square of silk and sighed. “It was a very long time ago. The clan leader refused the bride of a neighboring clan. It caused war. It was a very—trying time for the clans. Some say it is why our numbers are low. The scorned bride cursed us.”

  Alannah snorted. “That is a load of marx bollocks if you ask me. Our numbers are low simply because they are. Who can know the ways of the gods? Perhaps they no longer feel we serve their purpose.”

  Hildevar cursed low and hard in that strange, musical language that both intrigued and mystified Bella.

  “What did you just say?” Bella asked, and Hildevar blushed.

  “It was—uncouth, your majesty.”

  Bella smiled and dug into the rest of her meal with gusto.

  “So, when do we leave for the Darklands?” Bella queried, and Hildevar gave her a confused look.

  “You do not object?”

  Bella shrugged and tugged a succulent piece of fruit off her fork.

  “We leave in an hour’s time.”

  “Rogan doesn’t play around, does he?” Bella murmured.

  *

  An hour later, Bella was watching with interest as servants were busily placing heavy blankets, furs and throws into ornately enclosed wagons. She was nearly sweating in the heat, as the two suns were towering high in the sky and the breeze only swept by a few times, carrying with it the promise of sweltering summer heat.

  Puzzled, Bella approached Alannah who was feverishly packing gloves and hats in a bin.

  “What’s the deal?” Bella asked as Alannah turned around. “It’s hot out here. It’s what? Late spring? Why do we need all that?”

  Alannah dropped a pair of fur leggings into a basket and placed it into a wagon.

  “Well,” she began, “The Darklands are always—cold.”

  “Always?”

  “Yes, my queen,” another servant chimed in. Bella had seen the woman a few times here and there. Bella had heard her referred to as Cyndra. She was an older woman, quite possibly in her late forties, and she graced Bella with a smile.

  “There is snow piled high. Those who get caught in there can catch their deaths in the cold, amongst other things.”

  Intrigued, Bella leaned forward. “What other things?”

  Cyndra shot Alannah a look. The courtyard was a flurry of activity, and the two looked around inconspicuously. “My queen,” Cyndra said softly. “Perhaps it’s not for me to say, but—there are dangerous magic creatures in those lands. But you’ll be safe. All the wagons here have been enchanted. The men carry weapons forged with powerful spells. And Rogan himself is a master spell caster. He will protect you with his life.”

  Bella chewed her lip a bit nervously and looked between the two women. “Is there anything else I should know about this place?”

  Cyndra sighed. “My queen, you will be safe. But do not leave the enchanted wagons and walk a path of your own. It is—dangerous for one such as yourself.”

  Bella nodded. “Thank you, Cyndra.”

  Cyndra b
owed politely and hurried away to her duties. Alannah smiled widely, and Bella found herself responding.

  “I am a bit excited, my queen. It is like an adventure.”

  Bella sighed and watched as the activity began to slow and servants began to pile into the wagons. Rogan walked about, overseeing everything, and Bella felt a presence behind her.She turned to see Hildevar, who curtsied and began to pull Bella into one of the wagons, followed by Alannah, who bounced excitedly in her seat.

  The inside of the wagon was plush and luxurious. It was wide with padded seating on both sides, cushy chairs, and a soft and heavily insulated interior. Sumptuous silks and fabrics lined the area and a great circle of pillows and padding lay in the front behind the driver. Windows were cut out on both sides of the wagon, and Bella could see everyone scrambling as they neared the end of their preparations.

  A small hearth sat in one corner and it all looked cozy and warm. Bella watched out one of the windows as Rogan’s men saddled their beasts and tethered them. Rogan came traipsing into the trailer where Bella sat and threw his hard body alongside. She felt an instant arc of electricity fly through her but ignored it and instead gave him a small smile.

  “So, to the Darklands we go, huh? Will it take long to get there?” she asked, and he shrugged.

  “Not if we go a’foldin’,” he told her, and she made a face.

  “Folding?”

  “We will fold the distance. It cannot be done once we reach the Darklands’ borders. It would be unwise to even try.”

  Their driver strode up then, heavily muscled and heavily armed. His body was branded in tattoos that moved and writhed. He nodded respectfully to Rogan, who returned the gesture and then he took the reins.

  They began to move quickly, as the beasts that pulled the wagons, though built similarly to horses from Earth, were vastly superior in speed and musculature. The landscape seemed to whizz by, and soon they were slowing, the cantering beasts going into an easy trot. The wagons lined up as they moved onto a trail in a forest. The sun was setting, and Rogan stood and moved to whisper something to their driver, who nodded. Every carriage stopped and each driver stood at attention. Rogan whispered something to the driver again, who nodded and whistled. Soon, the world around them seemed to waver, melt and then dissolve. Bella clutched the nearest pillow and watched as they all reappeared in a snow-covered plain near a frozen line of dead, dark trees.