Dragon's Blood: a Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy Book 2)(8)

“Excellent,” Lucyan said. He wasn’t close with Xenai, but knowing that one of his sisters would keep the scouts in line went a long way toward putting him at ease. “Make sure you instruct them not to approach if they find the king’s lair, and to only observe and report back with their findings.”

“And don’t tell them about the treasure either,” Drystan warned. “The last thing we need is for some renegade soldier to decide to make off with it himself.”

Tariana snorted. “They can try,” she said. “Our father would annihilate them all with a single scorched breath if they tried to enter his cave. Still,” she added, a troubled look crossing her face, “there is always some idiot who will ignore the dangers and become blinded by greed. I won’t tell them what’s inside the lair.”

Decided, Tariana called for some parchment and a quill, then sent Xenai off to the Black Mountains to mobilize the company. Drystan and Lucyan were just about to leave when someone knocked at the door.

“Lord Shadley!” Drystan cried, letting the visitor in. Lucyan felt a jolt of surprise at the sight of the spymaster, looking travel-worn, the edges of his cloak crusted with dirt, his face and hair dusty from the road. Tariana shot to her feet, and Lucyan stood up more slowly—his ribs had begun to protest from all the walking.

“I’m so glad you made it back safe,” Tariana said, throwing her arms around him in an exuberant hug. “Although I confess I am surprised to see you back here so soon.”

Shadley smiled as he returned the embrace. “A little birdy told me that there is trouble brewing here in Dragonfell,” he said, turning to face Drystan and Lucyan. “I thought you might have need of my services again,” he added, bowing.

“Yes, we certainly could,” Drystan agreed. “I assume you already know that the elves have taken Dareena and Alistair, and that our father has run off?”

Shadley nodded grimly. “I suppose it is a good thing that the king has abandoned his responsibilities,” he said. “I doubt he would be willing to negotiate with the elves if he were still here.”

Lucyan let out a disgusted sigh. “No, he would likely just rally our forces and send us all to our deaths,” he said. “The envoy who collected Dareena and Alistair hinted that we would have to pay handsomely to get her back, which is proving to be quite a problem, as we have just discovered Father took the treasure with him when he ran off.”

Shadley’s face paled. “That is a problem indeed,” he said. “Is there anything left at all?”

“Only the steward’s petty cash fund,” Drystan said grimly.

“Do you have any idea where our dear old dad may have hidden the treasure?” Lucyan asked. “We are guessing it is in the Black Mountains somewhere, as that is where he has fled, but it will take weeks to search through all the caves tucked away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t be of much help in that regard,” Shadley said ruefully. “The king never let me access the treasury. I imagine that if I were a dragon, I would have spirited the gold away somewhere that was largely inaccessible to humans, which makes the mountains a perfect choice. If you wish, I can ask around and see if my spies have noticed any suspicious activity.”

“Please do,” Drystan said. “We need all the help we can get.”

As the others continued to discuss their various predicaments, a wave of exhaustion hit Lucyan. Bidding the others a good day, he returned to his suite and climbed back into bed, knowing he still had time before one of the wounded would be needing it. It wasn’t like him to be depressed, but between losing Dareena, Alistair, and the treasure, he was finding it difficult to maintain a positive outlook. One of the healers had left another bottle of potion by his bedside, which he downed quickly, then burrowed into the covers and sank into a healing sleep.

He might not have Dareena with him in real life, but perhaps he could enjoy her presence in his dreams.





6





The border between Elvenhame and Dragonfell was a two-day journey, and Alistair and Dareena spent that entire time confined to the wagon, save for during the night, when they were given small, separate tents and bedrolls to sleep on. Dareena longed to crawl into Alistair’s tent and snuggle with him, to place her head against his chest and listen to his steady, reassuring heartbeat. But as far as everyone knew, she was Drystan’s wife, and it would look suspicious if she crawled into her brother-in-law’s tent.

Why keep up this charade? she wondered the next day as their cart bumped and jostled over the rough dirt road. They’d taken to wrapping scarves around their faces to protect themselves from the clouds of dust that rose up from beneath the horses’ hooves, but even so, Dareena’s eyes were constantly watering, and she had to lie low in the cart to avoid the worst of it.

Maybe it’s to protect Alistair, she mused, gazing up at him. He was seated on the floor next to her, his face a mask of stone as he stared out at the endless plains. If they knew that Alistair wasn’t merely the king’s brother, but a king himself, he would become an infinitely more valuable pawn. She hoped the council wasn’t giving Drystan and Lucyan a hard time about this arrangement—as far as she knew, Dragonfell had never had more than one king at any one time. Dareena knew there would be some objections—there always were with any sort of drastic change—but she prayed that the councilmen would see sense and realize there were bigger problems to worry about than how many arses sat on the throne.