Dragon's Heart Read online

  “I’m sorry, Senion. I’ve been unbearable lately, haven’t I!” Emeldra smiled ruefully.

  Senion let out a relieved breath and gave a small smile in return. She wondered if the princess was attracted to the young knight. To her knowledge, the princess had not come into contact with him since his arrival at the castle. The fact that he had spoken to herself personally was known; he had also spoken in passing to several of the maids and even the high-born ladies at court. No more than manners dictated in most circumstances, yet he had spoken to her several times. “Surely the princess isn’t jealous of me?” Senion mused fretfully.

  “Yes, Your Highness, he has spoken to me on several occasions,” again with inner tension rising. She hoped the princess didn’t think there was anything more than polite conversation between herself and the young knight, though she thought him to be attractive and quite charming.

  “This young knight intrigues me: he has most of the maids and ladies swooning over him. What did he talk about, Senion?” Schooling her expression to one of idle curiosity. “Why had he not come to see me before now, he seems to be doing his best to ignore me. Confound the man, or should it be dragon” Emeldra fumed, her thoughts swirling in agitation as she waited for Senion’s reply. He had not even tried to communicate telepathically with her. She knew dragons had a strict code of etiquette when communing with their kind, and as far as she knew that held for humans too. Surely though, he could have entered her mind politely asking to speak with her. What was most troubling however was that a dragon had been rumoured to have led a raid that destroyed a village in Tulata. One had also been seen travelling with, and taking part in, Paenalir raids. She could not believe such a thing of Matra, yet she had to be sure.

  On recalling the brief conversations she had with Matra Fangdragor, it surprised Senion to realise most of the time he had indirectly asked questions concerning the princess. A troubled frown crossed her face. “Now you mention it, Emeldra,” she began, slipping back to the familiarity they usually shared in private, “Most of the time he asked questions about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if the other maids he spoke to would say the same if asked,” she finished still frowning.

  It was the opening Emeldra had waited for, a reasonable excuse to send for him. Assuming a look of casual interest but inwardly pleased with herself, she spoke again. “Curious indeed, I think I had better summon this young knight and see what his interest in me is.” Walking to the door, she opened it and spoke to the knight assigned to keep an eye on her. He frowned when she finished, then raised his hand to his heart, turned stiffly and strode down the corridor.

  Emeldra resumed pacing the room while Senion sat at the dressing table, looking on quietly. Emeldra considered what she would say when she met Matra again. Born of royal blood, headstrong yet with a compassionate nature, Emeldra was far from being the typical spoilt princess which most people would have expected when visiting her father’s court. Allowed to mix with the common people at Castle Talmon since early childhood, having a good education in both court affairs and worldly matters, she was also proficient in the arcane arts. Her father shrewd and wise had ensured his daughter had a good all-round education, encouraging her to be independent, sometimes much to his chagrin as his strong-minded daughter exerted her independence. Emeldra could handle herself well in most situations whether a matter of state or dealing with an overly zealous paramour, yet now she seemed at a loss as for how to conduct her forthcoming meeting with the young knight.

  Her thoughts strayed back to her foolish trip alone to see a dragon, although she still could not remember what had caused her horse to throw her. The walk to the cave, then the dragon and the revelation that Matra is a dragon with the ability to change into human form: most of all, the ride on the dragon’s back. The shared exhilaration of flight and the joined mental contact—all this she remembered well. She longed to experience the thrill of riding dragon back again. Everything, however, was overshadowed by the thought that Matra could be involved with the Paenalirs. She had promised to keep his secret, yet if he were involved with that treacherous nation of bandits, she would have to break that promise.

  A knock on the door brought her out of the dark thoughts the reminiscing was leading her to, she motioned to her maid to answer the door. She went to the window, smoothing her gown with her hands.

  The knight stood at attention with Matra behind him. “Sir Matra Fangdragor to see Her Royal Highness, Princess Emeldra Farldarin,” he said formally. Clapping his fist to his heart, he bowed stepped aside and ushered Matra into the room.

  “Thank you, Sir Knight, you may resume your post now,” Emeldra answered. Seeing him raise his eyebrows with a concerned look she added, “I have my maid here as chaperone; be assured all is as it should be.” She could see Matra’s puzzled look with the exchange. He had much to learn about the convoluted code of ethics humans adhered to. The knight bowed again, turned on his heel and left, closing the door behind him. Emeldra sighed. Her father would soon know of this meeting once the knight had a chance to tell him. She did not look at Matra yet; instead, she stared out of the window trying to think what to say. In the end, Matra forced her to react as he glanced over at Senion.

  “Hello, Senion, are you well?” Matra asked, smiling. Senion blushed crimson and bowed her head low, trying to make herself invisible. Matra frowned in confusion as Senion’s eyes darted to the princess almost pleadingly. Too late, he realised his mistake as Emeldra whirled to face him.

  “I have not given you permission to speak, Sir Knight, let alone speak familiarly with my maid,” she said, rounding on him furiously.

  Matra’s head snapped around, and his eyes fixed on hers. No emotion crossed his face as he spoke.

  “My apologies, Your Highness. I forgot my place, I beg your forgiveness.” Replying quickly, he bowed, as he raised his head again his eyes took her all in. She looked even more beautiful than their first meeting; her black hair shone as it curled around her shoulders. Hazel eyes sparkled like dark pools reflecting the sunlight, with firm cheekbones and fresh white skin, with just a touch of red to her cheeks. Her tender lips were a delicate red and dimpled on the left, which became more prominent as she pouted angrily at him. The white gown hugged her figure with a modestly low neckline, and frilled lace sleeves. Although of average height, she stood tall and regal with a presence which was hard to ignore. The dragon within him perceived the currents of destiny flowing about her. To Matra, she looked every bit the princess.

  “Come, sit here by the window, Sir Knight,” Emeldra said, calming herself. She gestured to the long window seat. “There is much talk about you, and I was curious to meet this knight who has all the maidens starry-eyed.” Smiling impishly, she watched him as he crossed the room. There was no wasted movement in his step, more a catlike grace and a commanding presence that would mark him a king rather than a lowly knight. As he sat near her Emeldra detected an unusual spicy scent that she now recognised when in the presence of a dragon. It was a good thing that nobody besides herself at Castle Talmon had had occasion to get close to a dragon or suspicions may get raised.

  Chapter Two

  “I’ve heard you hail from Tulata. You don’t look to be a Tulatan, Sir Fangdragor,” Emeldra said. She wished they could be alone to speak openly; she tried to reach his mind but met a blank wall.

  “I’m not a native of Tulata, Your Highness, but I believe my mother was,” Matra answered smoothly. Sensing a mixture of roiling emotions from the princess, Matra maintained his aloofness. Uncertain as to how to react, he fell silent.

  No longer able to contain the emotions within herself, Emeldra struggled with her thoughts with her heart pounding loudly in her ears as she framed words to speak. “I’ve heard that a dragon has been running amok, killing people in Tulata and that one has been seen raiding with the Paenalirs.” She paused for emphasis, her tone caustic, the words harder than she had meant. “Coming from Tulata, maybe you would know if there is any truth in these rumours
.” Her tone held a note of thinly-veiled accusation. It had the desired effect as she looked into his deep blue eyes. Matra’s face momentary darkened and he visibly stiffened with what Emeldra perceived as outrage; then she felt the familiar tingling sensation of Matra’s mental touch.

  “I know of these matters, Princess. Do not accuse me of such; all life is sacred to me. Never would I take life needlessly,” Matra answered, his tone etched in iron. No room was left for doubt, looking at Emeldra, although puzzled by her abrupt change of moods and her biting words. He had no delusions as to why he had come to Castle Talmon, even without dark events threatening all the world of Althya. He would have still come to see the princess again. The sharing of her mind and spirit had left a lasting impression on him; he was both fascinated and moved by her.

  Emeldra let out a long sigh, all the pent-up frustration and tension flowing out with it. In her heart she knew it could not be Matra but why had he not contacted her before now? There had to be some ulterior motive other than seeing her again

  “Why have you not spoke before now? I can understand the difficulty in arranging a meeting, but surely you don’t need to get close to contact me telepathically?” Emeldra asked. Outwardly she talked of trivial matters. It was difficult saying one thing aloud and another mentally; she had to concentrate hard. Matra took his lead from Emeldra. While speaking he paused to consider a reply to her questions.

  From where she sat sewing, Senion frowned in puzzlement. By rights, the princess could have had the young knight punished for his affront, but there had been no mention of it. Instead, she had swung from teasing him about the maids to almost accusing him of knowing something about the reported activities of dragons. She could have also sworn for an instant when they first faced each other across the room that they had met before. Now they sat, rarely speaking, with long pauses in the conversation where hardly any were needed, yet something seemed to be passing between them.

  “I can contact you across great distances if needs be, Emeldra. I have not done so as I sensed confusion and troubled thoughts,” Matra answered. “You don’t mind if I call you Emeldra, do you?” realising he had called her by her first name.

  Emeldra’s heart skipped a beat when he said her name. She had not realised till now that even words spoken telepathically took on differing emphases and meanings, much the same as speaking aloud, but somehow more discernible. The telepathic sound of her name had a rich, mellow ring to it, which caressed her mind with overtones of gentle protectiveness and a hint of desire. She felt her cheeks burn with a sudden blush; that he might feel protective of her seemed reasonable but surely nothing else. After all, he was in reality a dragon, albeit in human form; she thought it just imagination. She studied him anew, however, with keen interest, remembering how he had looked on that first meeting; her opinion remained much the same, apart from his blond hair being better groomed and wearing the brown and white dress uniform of a Ladlian knight. Matra’s rough featured face and lightly tanned skin gave him a ruggedly handsome look.

  “No, I don’t mind as long as you only say it aloud in private; people would talk otherwise,” she sent. He smiled at her answer, and she gave him a conspiratorial answering smile. “So, you said we would meet again, but I hardly expected it to be in such circumstances, why have you chosen to stay here and why have you joined my father’s knights?” she asked in conclusion, arching an eyebrow.

  “I will explain all when we have more time, Emeldra,” he answered.

  Chapter Three

  The morning sun felt warm on Emeldra’s face as they rode out through the castle gates. The guards saluted, closing the gates once they were clear. Her father had given in much more easily than expected, to let Matra come riding with her. Of course, she still had Senion as a chaperone. Emeldra suspected the knight captain was much relieved to have one of his best knights returned to normal duties; both her father and Sir Halwain, the knight captain liked and trusted Matra, as did most he came in contact with since his arrival at Castle Talmon. It was not hard to like Matra, there was such a charismatic air about him. She wondered if he was using his formidable arcane powers to influence people’s view of him.

  “Only a little and only when I thought it necessary, Emeldra,” Matra sent, answering her thoughts. His tone had a hollow ring of humour to it, and his eyes glinted mischievously.

  Emeldra turned in the saddle and gave Matra a stern look, but couldn’t hold it. Shaking her head, she laughed instead. Spurring her horse on with Senion and Matra on either side they cantered along the well-worn trail between the castle and the nearby village of Bakers Tol.

  King Damon Faldarin sat on a cushioned mahogany chair in his study, looking out of the window as his daughter rode through the castle gates with the young knight and her maid in close attendance. A smile crossed his face, “She’s a lot like her mother in more ways than one. Meryn would have been proud to see how their daughter had grown to womanhood,” he thought with a heavy heart, recalling memories of his late wife. He turned with a sigh, to face his most trusted advisor. Sir Halwain sat across from the king, his posture upright and rigid as he waited for the king to speak.

  “A capable and most amiable young man, is he not, Tol?” the king said, regarding Sir Halwain thoughtfully

  “Yes, Your Majesty, Her Royal Highness will be safe with Sir Fangdragor,” reading the king’s train of thought. “Although his weapons skill is a little lacking, he is quite capable,” he added, rubbing a finger across his craggy chin.

  King Damon ignored Sir Halwain’s last remark; not many lived up to his old friend’s standards. He brushed a hand through his steel grey hair, his face taking on a more serious expression as he spoke again.

  “Down to business then,” resting outstretched hands on the polished mahogany desk. “It was most timely Emeldra asked to go riding with the young knight, as you will need all your best knights elsewhere. There have been more raids across the border, and a dragon has been seen aiding the raiders again.” Sir Halwain raised his eyebrows frowning expectantly, his attention wholly focussed on his king.

  “I want you to lead the regular border patrol.” Features cast in granite became stonier as he laid out his plans to his knight captain and close friend. The king felt heavy at heart as he weighed his responsibilities as king against the need to keep his old friend in service or to grant him a long-overdue retirement. Now more than ever, he knew he would need his knight captain at his side.

  Emeldra stood in the shade of an ancient oak. A warm breeze blew, rustling amongst the leaves, making the shade even more pleasant. She could hear birds singing in the trees and the buzzing and chirruping of insects. Her maid sat a short distance away and seemed engrossed in observing her surroundings. To Emeldra it was as tranquil a setting as she could wish for yet Marta’s expression as he stood at her side was anything but tranquil; they spoke aloud but quietly, so as not to be overheard by the maid.

  “There is a split amongst my kind, Emeldra. It is known amongst dragons that humans would one day be the downfall of dragonkind.” His tone was tinged with melancholy.

  “How do you know this, that we will be the downfall of your kind, that is?” Though knowing her people and human nature as she did, it was not hard to believe. She sighed sadly; dragons were such majestic and beautiful beings, the thought of a world without them was unthinkable.

  Matra smiled as he spoke. “That is one of the things I most like about you, Emeldra. You see the best in everything. You do not see dragons as monsters, rather as beings equal to yourself. To answer the question, however, some dragons have the ability to see the future. It’s not finite. Only most likely probabilities can be predicted with any certainty. The future is always subject to change.” He gave her an apologetic look. He had been reading her thoughts again.

  Emeldra’s eyebrows went up at the idea of dragons foretelling the future; if she noticed Matra’s contrite expression, she showed no sign of it. Her face, however, was animated with a sudden understa
nding.

  “That’s why you said we would meet again the first time we met; you knew or know something that would bring you here; but what?” she asked, slipping into mental contact almost without thinking.

  “You are right, Emeldra; it has to do with what I started to tell you.” Matra smoothly made the transition to mental contact. His face took a concerned expression as he explained. When he finished, there was an uneasy silence between them.

  Emeldra considered what Matra told her with a growing sense of dread. He had mentioned in their first meeting that dragons were philosophical and believed the imaginings of humans hardly worth noting. Things were changing. The red dragons and some others, moreover, believed that they had to act to prevent the predicted downfall. They were doing this by secretly fomenting conflict and rebellion between rival nations. The tactic was a simple but effective one: merely to have humans too busy killing each other to think about dragons. If a dragon aided one side or another, each side saw the dragon as a valuable ally, rather than a threat.

  “You are getting drawn into it though, aren’t you?” Emeldra began speaking aloud again. She frowned worriedly. “You have foreseen or know about a possible future concerning Castle Talmon, that’s why you came,” her eyes bright as she looked at him.

  “I’m afraid so,” he brushed a hand through his blond hair. “I must teach you more of magic, as you call it. There is a spell or two which you don’t know yet, that you may find useful. There may come a time when you will need all the spells that you can learn,” he concluded ominously; he dared not tell her the possible events that he had foreseen.