Dragon Rose(11)

Elder Drewton helped me climb into the awkward sidesaddle, and I did my best to tuck my skirts around me in a more or less decorous manner. While I was thus occupied, the two men got on their own horses, and then maneuvered their mounts so Elder Macon was in front of me and Elder Drewson behind. I had no idea whether this was to make sure I did not bolt, or merely because they thought they’d be better able to offer me assistance this way, should I meet with some mishap during the ride.

We headed down the alleyway and then on to a narrow street fondly referred to as Pennypinch Lane. I saw then what the elders were doing—taking a course that used the quieter and less-traveled streets, and one that headed away from the town square and the crowds gathered there. After a few more twists and turns, we emerged through the northern gate, which was conspicuously untended that morning.

And then we were out on the hard-packed road that led away from Lirinsholme and up into the hills. Almost directly ahead of us was the rocky peak where Black’s Keep stood, as if glowering over the valley below. The red banner caught my eye once more, and I stared up at it for a long moment, wondering whose task it was to place it there, and how the Dragon determined which would be the fateful day.

I supposed I might know those answers soon enough, although the thought did little to cheer me.





Chapter Three





The residents of Greyton did not seem particularly curious about our arrival. A few brief glances, a whisper or two. I would have expected more, considering it had been some years since the Dragon last called for a Bride. Perhaps they had been instructed to look away.

Whatever the reason, we received no greeting, no sign that the Dragon or his retainers had even expected our coming. While unease traced its chill fingers across the back of my neck, the two elders did not seem particularly discomfited. They rode through Greyton’s one shabby little street and then paused on the other side of the hamlet, where the road abruptly began a series of switchbacks up the hillside to the peak where the castle stood. From this angle, it seemed to loom over everything, as if it were about to pitch right over the cliff and down onto the houses below. Of course this was just a trick of the eyes, but still I did not look forward to making that ascent.

Up here the grass was sparser, not as green as in the fields around Lirinsholme, and the wind blew constantly. Although it was just past midsummer, and the day had been bright and cheery enough, somehow a shadow seemed to lie over this land, something that dulled it and robbed it of color. It was too warm for me to shiver, but a frisson of unease passed over me.

Movement from above us caught my eye, and I saw then that a single horse descended the perilous track.

“He comes,” Elder Macon said.

“Who? The Dragon?”

The two elders exchanged an unreadable look. “Of course not, you silly girl,” Elder Macon replied. “The Dragon, leaving his castle? This will be one of the Dragon’s retainers, come to take you the rest of the way.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved I would be spared the Dragon’s company for that much longer, or annoyed that he would have a servant come to fetch me. Just another item for the castle, like a barrel of wine or a side of beef. It appeared he didn’t rate his Brides all that highly.

Of course he doesn’t, a sly voice inside me whispered. Or why would he go through them at such a rapid rate?

Having no answer to that, I merely waited in silence as the rider navigated the last of the switchbacks and then descended to where we had gathered. As he drew closer, I saw he was an older man, his iron-grey hair pulled back into a leather thong low on his neck. He rode as tall and straight as someone half his age, however, and looked at us with keen grey eyes.

“Bring her to me,” he said.

“Get down,” Elder Macon instructed.

“But—my horse—”

“The retainer will take you. You bring nothing with you, remember? That includes the horse. Now get down.”

I untangled my feet from the stirrups and then slid down to the ground. The stranger made no move to help me or bring his horse closer, but merely waited while I crossed the few yards that separated us.

“Come now,” he said, not unkindly, and reached down to pull me up into the saddle in front of him.

He must have been very strong, for I found myself hoisted into position without any apparent strain on his part. My situation was not all that different from the one I had maintained while riding sidesaddle, and yet I felt far more secure now, no doubt because I had the feeling this stranger would not do anything so foolish as to let me slip and fall. It was a little strange, to be so close to a man I had never met before. His manner, however, was so businesslike that it seemed clear enough he had nothing on his mind but my safe delivery to his master.

He uttered a brief, “Sirs,” before turning the horse around and beginning the ascent to Black’s Keep. I clutched the pommel of the saddle and swallowed, realizing too late that I had said no goodbyes to the elders. Well, they deserved little enough in the way of courtesy. They were only here because custom required it, and not because they cared anything for me, or for any of the Brides, for that matter.

The air felt cooler at these heights, with barely a hint of the midsummer warmth of the valley below. Or perhaps I was chilled by the enormity of what I had done…and by fears of what faced me in that dark castle on its rocky peak.