A Dragon's Treasure Read online

  The elders started chatting excitedly amongst themselves. They presented themselves as serious scholars, but Rhea had already noticed that they loved nothing more than a bit of juicy gossip.

  "My king, it was written!" Uri exclaimed. "One of our own, and one of theirs—"

  Broc shook his head. "Oh no, you don't. Mention another prophecy to me at your own peril. We have hardly recovered from the last one you brought up in this very hall."

  Uri stepped back, his lips pressed together tightly.

  Rhea couldn't suppress a smile. Poor man. He was only doing his duty.

  "So there it is. Teaq's choice obviously puts us in a difficult position. We cannot provide sanctuary to a mermaid on these lands. That is why he has left. To take the target off our backs."

  That was a nice spin.

  Rhea cleared her throat. "My king. His intention may be to draw King Weiland away from us, but that's only going to work if the Sea Folk know where their princess has gone. They'd have to be certain that she's not here."

  The Great Hall grew silent. Even Broc had nothing to say, at least for a painful few seconds.

  "An astute observation, Rhea. One I am sure he has planned for," Broc said.

  Rhea could tell he was still annoyed with her. But it was the truth. You could not hide from the truth.

  "We will also plan for the same," Broc continued. "And in light of these preparations I felt it important to that we get back to life as normal. At the earliest. So I have already chosen Teaq's successor."

  Everyone in attendance nodded in agreement.

  "Yes, my king," Uri said. "We cannot afford a disruption in our defenses."

  Rhea straightened herself. This was it. She may not have earned the job, yet, but she was going to make damn sure that she would do her absolute best.

  "I present to you, Rhea, our new general," Broc said.

  Yorrick shot her a smile and appreciative nod.

  "This, of course, means her old position in the Royal Guard now goes to Yorrick."

  Broc waved the two of them closer. They took position to the left and right of the king and stood with their heads bowed as the remaining Council members applauded. Whatever led up to the events of today, it was still an honor for the both of them.

  "Now that this is out of the way, what's next on the agenda for today?" Broc asked.

  Uri and the Elders spoke amongst themselves for a moment. Their voices were too hushed for Rhea to make out what they were saying. Then Uri raised his head and ran his hand through his long white beard.

  "My king, in light of the sheer strength shown by the Sea Folk during their recent excursion into our territory, I feel it will be imperative to strengthen our own defenses significantly."

  Broc nodded, as did Rhea.

  Everyone was silent for a few moments, before Rhea realized this was her moment. Her role as general would take some getting used to.

  "Uri, what have you in mind?" she asked.

  "We do not have the weapons. Our walls cannot keep them out should they invade in earnest."

  Rhea nodded again. She didn't want to hear it, but he was right.

  "Our hand-to-hand combat skills are good enough. The duel Teaq fought proved that beyond any doubt. We're well matched. But they vastly outnumber us. We must look at better weaponry to gain an advantage," Rhea concluded.

  "We do not have the materials or even skills to develop such weapons. Even that sword you now carry, Rhea, was made during different times. We do not have the technology anymore. All that was lost in the Great War all those centuries ago," Uri said.

  Rhea placed her hand protectively over the sword on her hip. He was right. The Elders usually were.

  "So if we cannot develop better weapons with what we have, what do you suggest we do?"

  "We have but one weapon. One secret weapon nobody else, including the Sea Folk, has."

  Rhea frowned. "The witch," she said.

  Broc looked at her disapprovingly. Again.

  "Queen Kelly, and her magic," Rhea repeated, choosing more diplomatic words this time.

  Uri nodded. "We have her, too. But she’s not who I was talking about. Her skills require more training to be effective in battle. This is something I have been meaning to discuss with our king anyway."

  Broc sighed. "Very well, Uri, you are right to bring this up."

  "Do I have your permission to work with the Queen to see what powers she might yet unlock?" Uri asked.

  Broc nodded. "You do."

  "Good. Now, the weapon we have, which is already at the peak of its power…"

  Rhea leaned forward, eager to hear what he had to say.

  "Perhaps you remember the old song, you would have learned it as a child," Uri said.

  Rhea frowned and looked at Broc. Did he have any idea what Uri was talking about?

  His expression was dark, as it had often been lately. He knew.

  Uri cleared his throat, then with a thin, crackling voice, he started to sing.

  "Down below the mountain, in a cell deeper than deep,"

  Rhea gasped as the remaining words came to her. He could not be serious!

  Down below the mountain, in a cell deeper than deep,

  A creature, fierce and powerful, blissfully asleep.

  He must not be awoken, unless the need is dire,

  For if he is roused, he will blanket the Isles in fire.

  "You speak of the dragon, Saras!" Rhea exclaimed.

  Uri nodded slowly. His expression had turned equally serious.

  "We can't. Broc, we can't," she stammered.

  Broc shook his head as well. "This is a last resort, Uri. The risks are simply too great."

  "I do not disagree the risks are very grave indeed. I can assure you it's not easy to bargain with a dragon. If you wish to gain his cooperation, you'll need enough time to convince him of your cause." Uri paused for a moment, and studied the room. "But if there's one thing beings of water are particularly sensitive to, it's heat. Fire."

  Rhea frowned. How did he know so much about the dragon? Saras had been asleep for generations, and with good reason. Nobody in living memory had ever interacted with the dragon. The story of what had earned him his confinement in the dungeon was the greatest tragedy their people had lived through since the Great War.

  Dragons were only loyal to themselves. The old stories made that very clear. On a whim, he could turn on them and kill them all. It wouldn't be the first time.

  "My King, General Rhea. While your concerns are very valid, I have been reading up on the matter. There is plenty of information available in the old archives."

  "Feel free to share your findings, then," Broc said.

  "Dragons are fickle creatures. But if we can figure out something he wants, he'll do anything to get it."

  "In theory. How can you be so sure?" Rhea asked.

  Uri's normally pale skin turned pinkish. Apparently her questions were starting to infuriate him too.

  "This is the collective knowledge of our people we're talking about here. They're not fairy stories!"

  Rhea sighed and shook her head.

  "This is not a decision that should be made lightly." Broc folded his arms. "I'll consider your advice carefully, Uri."

  "Of course, my king. Just don't think for too long. Once the Sea Folk arrive, it might already be too late."

  Broc nodded.

  Rhea could only hope that he wasn't seriously thinking about letting him out. Dragons were a double-edged sword. He could very easily harm them more than the Sea Folk would. She needed another strategy. Something she'd already been thinking about in her old job.

  Knowledge was power. They needed a warning system so the enemy could no longer surprise them.

  Rhea cleared her throat, attracting everyone's eyes back onto her.

  "My first act as general will reflect these troubling times. We cannot afford to be overrun without warning. So I would like to draft all those capable of flight to scour our borders for any sign of e
nemy activity."

  Broc's expression softened slightly. At last she'd said something he did not object to.

  "Good idea, Rhea. We must be vigilant."

  Chapter Three

  Fire! Fire!

  The calls echoed against the stone walls of the castle.

  Black Mountain was on fire.

  Saras turned around to see where the screams were coming from, but he could not see anything through the smoke.

  What had happened?

  Where was Gillian?

  In his human form again, he looked down at himself. His clothes were hanging off him in charred rags.

  His skin was blackened by soot.

  His hands…

  He turned them over to inspect his palms.

  The dimmed light could not obscure it. He knew exactly what he was looking at. In fact, he could smell it.

  Blood.

  He had blood on his hands.

  The screams grew fainter. Were people fleeing?

  He ran to follow them, but then a memory—a flash—stopped him in his tracks.

  His Gillian, lying in bed with her eyes closed. Flames licking at the sheets.

  Blood.

  Rage coursed through him, prompting his body to change form again. Scales covered his once smooth skin. His fingers extended into talons, and sharp spikes emerged all the way down his spine.

  The beast had taken over and he was furious.

  His Gillian, dead! Whoever responsible had to be punished.

  He would tear this place apart, killing all in his path until he found the culprit.

  Soundless, like a phantom, he rushed through the corridors, heading right toward the heat.

  "Gillian! Your death will be avenged!" he roared.

  Another memory found its way into his clouded mind.

  He had already found the murderer.

  The realization hit him like a knife being thrust right through his heart.

  The fire. The death and destruction.

  It was him.

  It was all his fault. Her rejection had hurt him so deeply that he'd lost all control.

  For but a moment, Saras opened his eyes. But they would not stay open. His dark surroundings barely registered before he was drawn back into the world of shadows.

  A loud sigh escaped his lips and he turned over onto his other side.

  Part of him knew that none of this was really happening. At least not right now. It had happened, a long time ago.

  The tragic fire of Black Mountain had killed many. Saras had accepted his punishment without argument.

  The outside world was no place for him. Indeed, there was nothing out there to keep him. He'd given his heart to the wrong woman, and everyone had paid the price.

  Down here, he was contained.

  His fire could not harm anyone else.

  But the isolation and the time passed since Gillian's death hadn't taken away its sting.

  His fragmented memories continued to haunt him in his sleep.

  Rhea did not waste any time. Soon after leaving her first Council meeting as General, she set her plan into action. She started with those on Black Mountain itself.

  Even though they were a mixed people, flight was a rare talent to have. Mostly bears, wolves and other land animals hid behind their human-like features.

  But there were a few eagles she knew about; they were an important part of any hunting party that headed for the mainland. They kept an eye on their surroundings so they could travel unseen by the humans they’d hidden from for all these generations.

  Their skills were about to be more in demand than ever.

  It was easy to enlist them in her latest surveillance strategy. But if she was going to make this work, she needed more. Way more.

  So she mobilized the senior members of her army to do the same. They set sail to the other isles and gathered up anyone of use. Whatever their current job or background, they would belong to Rhea's army now.

  Within a couple of days, she stood face to face with a group of about a dozen islanders who had little to no idea why they had been summoned to Black Mountain. They suspiciously eyed the armory they found themselves in.

  Some were too old to bear arms. Some too young. But none of that mattered, as long as they could fly.

  Rhea straightened herself as she faced her reluctant new recruits.

  "You must be wondering why you were called here," Rhea started.

  One woman with long, greying hair stepped forward with her hands on her hip. "I do, yeah! My work's pilin' up higher and higher the longer I'm away from home."

  "Someone else will have to do your work from now on. You have a new job now."

  The woman scoffed. "Says who?"

  Rhea did not hesitate for a moment to put her back in her place. "Your king does! I don't know if you noticed the enemy knocking at these very gates only last week!"

  The crowd shuffled uncomfortably at her outburst.

  "We are in crisis. Every man, woman and even child can be called on to help out. That's just the way things are," Rhea said.

  Many exchanged fearful looks. Others mumbled hushed words of disbelief.

  Nobody challenged her openly, so she continued.

  "We cannot hope to fend off the next attack if we do not know they are coming. We need a warning system. This is where you come in."

  "General Rhea, if I may," a young woman wearing nothing but a simple dress spoke up.

  She nodded sternly.

  "We are not soldiers. We don't have the training."

  She raised her hand. "You misunderstand. I don't need you to be soldiers. I need you to be our eyes and ears. You'll observe only."

  "What good will that do?" a man questioned from the back of the crowd.

  "You have skills we do not have. You can fly high above these lands and surrounding seas. You'll be well out of reach from the enemy, but nothing will escape your notice," Rhea explained.

  Finally, Rhea could tell from the changing expressions in front of her that her new recruits had understood their purpose at last.

  "You chose us for our animal forms," that same woman in the dress said.

  Rhea nodded. "You're a fast learner. Trust me when I say, without you all, we cannot win this war."

  "Do we at least get some body armor to protect us?" the woman asked.

  Rhea smiled. She had convinced at least one of them, even if her idea was ludicrous.

  "What's your name?" she asked.

  "Eryn."

  "Fine, Eryn. I'll see what I can do."

  The crowd grew restless once more as they started to discuss what they had learned amongst themselves.

  That was probably enough for one day. Time to draw up a schedule for regular patrols. Rhea turned on her heel and marched straight toward the exit leading to the drawbridge. A familiar face stopped her in her tracks.

  "Kelly," she mumbled, unable to hide her displeasure.

  The witch smiled and nodded. "Nice speech. Even if it almost went wrong."

  Rhea squinted. "Can I help you with something, my queen?"

  "I hope so. Broc likes to keep me out of the business of war, but we all know it's going to be a reality sooner or later."

  "Right. Did you want to pick up your combat training again?" Rhea asked. Oh, how she hated her. The only reason their last session had turned out so badly for Rhea was because Kelly had cheated. With magic.

  Kelly let out a short laugh. "No, it's probably best if I leave the fighting up to you and your soldiers."

  Rhea waited, lips pressed together, and wondered if this witch was ever going to get to the point.

  Finally, Kelly’s face turned serious as well. "I just wanted to know if I could help in other ways, you know. I live here now, for better or for worse. And I have no interest in seeing these Isles fall before my first winter here."

  Rhea wanted so badly to tell her to go away. That she had it under control, and that Kelly should just focus on her fancy clothes and her new husband, an
d leave these serious matters alone. But what was the saying? Keep your friends close, and enemies closer.

  Perhaps it could be useful, having a witch by her side. A mind reader, no less.

  "What did you mean, my speech almost went wrong?" Rhea asked, finally.

  Kelly nodded briefly. "Well, your leadership style…"

  Rhea regretted asking for Kelly's input already. "My leadership style is what?"

  Kelly pursed her lips. "It's a bit… combative. That may work fine with soldiers, but these people, they're not used to that. I think they'll respond better to a lighter touch."

  Rhea rolled her eyes. All she had done, all she ever did, was tell the truth. If that was too much for people, then it was their problem, not hers.

  "You think you can handle them, be my guest. But the harsh reality is that we could lose this place in a heartbeat if King Weiland hits us with all he has."

  Kelly nodded. "I didn't realize it before last week, but I do now. I saw the thousands of soldiers crowding the waters, same as you did. That's why I want to help."

  Rhea sighed. "Fine. I won't stand in your way. But don't expect me to hold your hand either."

  "Fair enough." Kelly smiled and stretched out her right hand.

  Rhea just looked at it for a moment, before forcing herself into action and shaking it.

  I guess that's it then. Along with a dozen or so clueless eagles, I also now have a witch in my army.

  Would that prove useful? Only time could tell.

  As he sank deeper into another dream, Saras returned to a better time. He dreamt of a morning in early spring. Of when he first saw her.

  He sat atop the highest tower of the castle, as he often did, surveying all of Black Mountain and the seas surrounding it. Although she was far away, he had never seen anyone so clearly.

  Her long brown hair swayed with every step as she walked down the path leading to the harbor. A gust of wind stopped her momentarily, and she turned around for the briefest of moments.

  A vision of beauty.

  Gillian, daughter of the king's most senior advisor.

  But in this version of events, something had changed. Her walk was different. Even her face was that of another woman.

  No… That’s not…

  Saras frowned. He spread his wings and dove down, hoping for a better look.