The trip was pleasant enough, our pace restricted to what the draft team could pull in one day. Some five leagues in all. We could take time out at evening to fish the streams and walk the laybys off the main road. Marcus and a guard remained close while Roelle picked herbs to dry for her apothecary jars.
Some nights, Marcus cooked for us. His fresh brook trout with wild fennel was divine and I ate enough for two grown men. When they complained that I hadn’t left much for them to sample, I went fishing and dropped four fat trout at their feet. That shut them up. I took to supplementing our meals with turkey, pheasant, rabbit and woodcock caught in my taloned hands.
The week passed quickly and I enjoyed the time spent without the constant supervision and the myriad chores that my keepers had kept me occupied in doing so that my mind had no time to brood.
Roelle’s mount was her favorite, a pale rose colored gelding that took my fluttering, coming and goings with equal aplomb. I was resting on the saddle when the first people started to walk into sight, sharing the road with us. Farmers and the like on the way to market.
They studied the men’s livery and recognized it which brought smiles to their faces. They were obviously glad to see Amber’s military presence. In fact, they said so chattering with the guard and asking many questions especially when they saw me. I kept quiet. It was bad enough that they saw me at all, let alone heard me speak. I wasn’t exactly an everyday item.
Offers came to spend the night in town at one of the many comfortable inns and to sample food cooked inside instead of out. I thought that maybe they were hoping we had goods to sell. Roelle just smiled and said we were on our way home for a wedding.
I was nearly as excited about seeing another village instead of trees and woods that I fairly buzzed like a beecatcher. We came into town on a road that met at a cross junction, cobblestoned and guttered so that the rain drew off to the sides and kept the lane dry and mud free.
Flowers had been planted in half barrels along the way and for the last mile into town. The village itself was pretty with neat little two story cottages that met over the avenues and connected both above and below. Trees were part of the sidewalks which were bricked or cobblestoned. In short, it resembled those quaint Swiss villages seen on our travels through Europe. It smelled good, too. Fresh baked bread, cinnamon rolls and pork roasting on a spit.
Our guide drove the wagons through to the hostlers and put the animals up before he took us all to a charming inn whose curtains blew in the slight breeze.
Roelle chattered happily saying she couldn’t wait for a bath and to wash her hair. Marcus rolled his eyes and ask if I wanted to visit a few taverns. Remembering the last time we’d done so, I hesitated.
“Oh come on, you’re a Dragon,” he pouted. “What could happen?”
I looked at the curious crowd that were eyeballing me and climbed up to hide in the folds of his hood. “Okay then, Roelle. We’re off for a pint or two. When you’re done bathing, let’s go eat.”
“As if you’ll be sober enough,” she snorted and entered the doors of the Jolly Maiden. “Meet me back here at dark,” she called out from the second story window. “Our rooms are 2B and 2C.”
“Got it, see you,” I called and pinched his ear.
“Owww!” He complained. “What did you do that for?”
“Stop being a baby,” I said and he stomped off to find the nearest tavern. The crowd of kids followed us right inside pestering Marcus with questions about me. Was I a pet? What was I called? Were there more of me and how much did I cost. Would he sell me? What did I eat? One little girl wanted to know if I was dangerous. Marcus answered all their queries patiently and lied on every one. Unfortunately, he made me even more rare and exotic than I already was. The only thing he didn’t tell them was that I could talk or that I was a human stuck in a Dragon form or was a real Dragon. He told them that I was a wyvern, a recent hatchling from the shadow called Hades. This was where parents told their children they would go if they misbehaved. The land of goblins, orcs and shadow creatures which they were well aware were real as Eric had opened Amber up to them. Demons drawn in by shadow storms caused by a blight on the Primal Pattern, they had wreaked havoc on the peaceful villagers until my grandfather Corwin had staged an ill-fated coup. No one had seen anyone or anything like it since Random had been crowned and the Pattern rebuilt.
The inside of the Vigilant Vintner looked like an ordinary Irish bar with comfortable leather benches, booths, tables and a long granite countertop behind which stood the bartender. She was a lady, buxom and with a no-nonsense manner. She had arms like Popeye’s, I wouldn’t wager I’d win in a wrestling match. She greeted Marcus and shooed all the kids out as she tossed a beer bottle down the counter top towards him. He caught it deftly and I crawled out of his hood.
“Pink wine for my friend,” he ordered and she just nodded pouring a wine glass full. I buried my head in up to my horns and inhaled. Sweet, fruity and full of bubbles, I drank half the glass in one swallow and savored the rest. Marcus sipped at his beer and sat at the bar on one of those tall stools that had always annoyed me. When I was younger and short, I could never climb on without Murphy’s help.
“Your friend have a name?” She asked and Marcus turned his attention from the small crowd in the bar. Most of them were townspeople with a few farmers and some soldier types minus any uniform insignia so were probably mercenaries for hire. Although, there were slim pickings in the area, no skirmishes and no highwayman left after Murphy and I had decimated the brigand bands.
“Raven? He’s a wyvern, a hatchling from a clutch I found last spring. They’re like a miniature Dragon, more like a lizard really. Cute pets but their temperaments are a bit difficult,” he returned. I hissed at him and burped. With so much wine down my throat, it came out a puff of rose scented smoke.
“Oh how cute,” she cooed. “He blows smoke rings. Is he for sale?”
“No. We’ve been through much together. He’s like my…brother,” Marcus stated. Three of the mercenaries stared at him but their interest flagged when Sgt. Pire walked in the bar with two of his squad. His eyes dissected the occupants and judged them before he stood at our side and ordered a beer. He spoke softly so that only Marcus could hear him.
“The creature’s attracting all the wrong attention, son. The Lord Mayor wants to see it.” He stared at me, a thoughtful look on his face and I kept my good eye towards him. “Tis passing strange we haven’t seen hide nor hair of Prince Raven before we’d left Amber, is it not, Marcus?”
I swallowed the rest of my wine, belched and fell over as if I were drunk. Marcus reacted quickly, scooping me up and covering me. “Poor thing, he can’t hold his liquor,” he stuttered. “I’d best get him back to his cage.”
“Where did you get the creature, Marcus?”
“I conjured him from a spell, Sergeant. The same one that I used to make those rabbits turn into flying cats.”
“It’s a good thing you’ve made progress, boy. Can you imagine pigs flying? Still, the thing looks like Raven, just in miniature. You haven’t done something you’ll regret, have you Marcus?”
“No, Sgt. Pire. Never. I would never hurt Raven or Roelle. I swear by my heart’s blood,” he said, his face as open and honest as his heart.
The Sergeant stared at him for a beat and then said, “Good. For if you did, Marcus, I would have to kill you.” With that, he ushered Marcus out and back to the Inn where we spent an uncomfortable hour in the dining room eating under the watchful eyes of the Sergeant and Roelle’s companion.
I had perked up as soon as the fresh air hit me and flown away to both of their protests telling Marcus I was going hunting for my own dinner. I had in mind a nice chicken on the wing and figured I could snatch one or two hens without causing too much of a commotion.
Pleasantly full, I flew back over the town and felt that dragging sensation that told me the sun was soon to set and I need to be somewhere safe and secure.
Roelle’s room was lit and I could hear her singing. When I flew in, she was in her bathtub washing her hair. She smelled wonderful and was a sight to make me drool. Rosy cheeked and pink, covered with soft foamy bubbles, white shouldered and soft rounded arms with the rest left to my fevered imagination. I sighed and it conveyed longing, dismay and despair. She acted as if I were no more than her pet dog. “Hi, Raven. Did you have a good time? Ready for dinner?”
She climbed out and wrapped herself in a plush towel while Lily, her companion helped her into a robe and dried her hair. I crawled up the bed skirts and buried myself in the comforter suddenly exhausted and despondent. She cradled me. Her hands were warm as they stroked me and beads of pearly water dripped onto my scales.
“What’s wrong, Raven?”
I was desperate to tell her and afraid to. Instead, I said, “I’m far away from the magic of the Unicorn’s Bower. I’m afraid the enchantment will fade and with it, me.”
“Oh Raven. Do you want to go back? If you’re in danger, that’s what we should do.”
“Roelle, I –” I paused. “I would rather cease to exist then know I can never hold you again.”
“No, Raven. As long as you are live, there’s hope for you. After all you’ve lived through, I believe that Fate will reward you with your deepest wish.” She kissed me gently on the head. “Sleep, my Prince and dream of those days when we were only mortal.” I obeyed her, barely heard her leave the room but was aware when she returned to join me on the bed where we slept until the dawn.