Dragon Rose(9)

It was the custom for the chosen Bride to walk to the steps of the town hall and wait there for the elders to descend to her. After that she would be brought inside, and taken away to Black’s Keep. No time for farewells, no chance to say goodbye or even pack a few belongings. She always went wearing only the dress—her finest—on her back.

Somehow I knew Lilianth could not make that walk unassisted. And I had already thumbed my nose at tradition, so what difference did it make if I broke one more rule in giving her the only succor I could?

“Come, Lilianth,” I said, and placed one arm around her slender waist. She sagged against me, and I thought she would have collapsed if I hadn’t held her up. “I’ll go with you.”

“You can’t,” she breathed.

“I don’t see anyone stopping me. Come along.”

And so we began the long walk to the front steps of Brecken Hall. We had been standing toward the back of the crowd, and so it seemed as if we traversed the long road from Lystare to Mellinshall, the capital of Purth, rather than the hundred yards or so it was in actuality. The crowd parted before us, but I did not try to hasten Lilianth’s footsteps, rather, slowing my own. She would be lost to us soon enough. What difference did a minute or two make?

From somewhere behind us I heard a young man cry out, “Lilianth!” and knew it was Adain who called her name. She stiffened, and paused, but then continued her slow walk forward. A muffled commotion ensued, and I guessed Adain had tried to press forward but had been detained. He could not save her.

No one could.

As we walked a slow fury began to build in me. No, it was not fair that Lilianth should have to throw away her life thus, not when she had everything that was bright and good ahead of her. And all for some monster’s whim, his cruel notion to take a Bride when the mood suited him. Why couldn’t Elder Dahlish have chosen some other name…any other name?

My name.

At that thought a tremor went through me, but Lilianth seemed not to notice. We put one foot in front of the other, in a movement as slow and inexorable as the incoming tide. But as we walked my mind began to race, even as a new and terrible thought took hold.

My family would mourn, but I could help them no longer. There was not even the prospect of a good marriage awaiting me, as most men seemed disinclined to take a wife so eager to flout tradition as I. Lilianth was an only child, whereas I had three younger sisters.

And the Dragon always gave a thousand crowns to the family of the woman he took as his Bride.

It would be enough to see them through comfortably for many, many years. Enough that my mother would not have to count her last silver coins. Enough that my sisters would have good dowries.

Enough that all their lives would be made easy.

I knew then what I must do, and although the resolve strengthened in me with every step, still I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, the snug-fitting bodice of my gown seeming to keep me from gathering enough breath to fill my lungs. By the time we reached the steps of the hall, I could not tell any longer whether I was the one holding up Lilianth, or whether she supported my suddenly shaky frame.

The three elders had descended from the balcony and stood waiting on the steps. From the waspish expression on Elder Dahlish’s and Elder Macon’s faces, I gathered they were not overly pleased by my act of friendly support in assisting Lilianth on her walk to the hall. Elder Drewson looked somewhat surprised, but at least he wasn’t frowning.

I had a feeling his pleasant expression would not last much longer.

Elder Macon stepped forward. “Lilianth Fortens, you have been chosen as the Dragon’s Bride. From here on out you have no family, no connections, no ties to anything but the Lord of Black’s Keep. Do you understand?”

She hesitated, and I knew I must speak up then or let events continue on their own inexorable path.

I cleared my throat. “Excuse me.”

All three of the elders stared down at me, Elder Macon and Elder Dahlish frowning in a manner that would have once intimidated me. Now I felt as if I had very little left to lose.

“Rhianne Menyon,” said Elder Macon, in tones that should have been quelling, “you have rendered your service to your friend. It is time now to step aside and let her meet her destiny.”

“As to that,” I replied, meeting his cold blue gaze as directly as I could, “why does it have to be her?”

At this question, all three of the elders exchanged glances that seemed to communicate either extreme annoyance or possible concern that I might have gone mad. “Her name was drawn out of the urn,” Elder Dahlish said, in his wispy dried-paper voice.

“But you drew it out. It isn’t as if the Dragon came here and chose it himself.”

“Watch your tongue, young woman, and guard against speaking of things of which you know nothing,” Elder Macon snapped.

“It is said that the will of the Dragon guides the elder’s hand as he makes the selection,” Elder Drewson put in.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

At that question even Lilianth stared at me as if I had lost my mind. “We do not question these things,” she murmured.

“Perhaps we should.” I set my hands on my hips and gazed up at the three elders. “The Dragon requires a Bride, that much is true, but I do not see why it should be poor Lilianth here, not when she has a betrothed and has already bought the cloth for her wedding gown. I have no betrothed, and my family will still have three daughters left when I am gone. Let me be the Dragon’s Bride in Lilianth’s stead.”