We spent only a few hours past dawn in the village, just long enough to restock those things we’d used up already, like oats and fodder for the horses. I stayed close to Roelle and Marcus and our trip passed quickly. From the town, several others followed us on the road. After two days in our company, they left us at the fork which Sgt. Pire said went to the next largest town on Roelle’s map. Good-sized, it had a port on the River Wick that led to the Golden Sea where most folk left for Erebnor and Cabra. Having spent months at the lighthouse, I vaguely knew its direction. I was glad to see them go, they’d been entirely too interested in both me and the wagon train. Of course, anyone thinking to take on the King’s guard and a dragon had to be insane.
We finally pulled into the Barony of Loest in the late afternoon. I saw a respectable manor house too small to be called a Castle and yet too large to be anything but an estate. Four stories and built of rose red stones, it sat against a mountain outcrop somewhat reminiscent of a fat mushroom. In a charming way. A moat and a drawbridge surrounded it and throngs of people lined the roadway up towards the gates. I was surprised to learn that the mountain split behind the place and opened up into a nice little village protected on all three sides by the rock walls. Good-sized farm holdings were inside the canyon, a village of over a thousand with a lake large enough to serve the entire system and a river that came up from under the mountain walls.
A perfect place to defend against a much larger army. Later, after I had met Roelle’s family, I had flown over the escarpment and realized that only a determined and trained elite force could climb in and attack from up there. So they were relatively safe from all but Chaos demons.
Her brothers and parents came out to greet her. Hugs and handshakes were given all around even extending to Marcus and the Sergeant. I learned he’d come from the neighborhood and was sorely missed. At last, we were ushered inside the house and her parents turned to me.
“What is it, Roelle?” The Baron asked, eyes alight with wonder. “We heard you are great friends with the Black Dragon. Is this his fledgling?”
Marcus answered for her. “It is a fledgling wyvern from a far shadow, Sir Rouen. I conjured it with a spell and it is bonded to me or Roelle. With anyone else, it would simply fly off and revert back to its world.”
“Is it dangerous? Intelligent?” Her mother asked.
“Very intelligent and not too dangerous. I have impressed upon him not to hurt any children, pets or livestock while he is here,” Marcus added.
“Good. Will you see to his food or shall we?”
“He feeds himself. In fact, he is the best mouser and vermin catcher you’ve ever seen. He sleeps with Roelle at night and toilets himself like a cat,” Marcus explained and I hissed threatening to pinch his nose. “He’s a bit bashful, too,” Marcus laughed. I followed behind as we were escorted into the house nearly as grand as my grandfather’s San Francisco mansion. We parted ways from Marcus as Roelle went towards one of the tower rooms which she told me had been hers. Servants and children came out to greet her, leaving hugs and glad cries behind. Once her door finally closed on the pretty feminine room of brass bed, cedar chest, cherry wardrobe and blazing fireplace, she threw herself onto the mattress to stare up at the carved ceiling panels. There were unicorns, fairies, elves, sprites and other fanciful creature staring back.
“Your parents and family are nice, Roelle,” I said tentatively. I’d seen all seven brothers at the castle and remember the youngest from there. He’d looked happy and very glad to see his sister, inviting her to meet his fiancé later.
“They are,” she said briefly. I could tell she was worried.
“What’s wrong, Roelle?”
“Did you see the collection of boys?” I had noticed the unusual amount of young men there to greet us but hadn’t thought any more about it.
“So?”
“It’s my parents’ way of hinting to me it’s time I chose someone for myself,” she said unhappily.
“Anyone you like in particular?” I asked carefully and she sat up to throw a pillow at me. I dodged it.
“Raven, how could you? You know how I feel about you!”
Sighing, I shook my head and landed on her knees. She cradled me in her palms and brought me to her cheek resting my blind side against her delicate skin.
“Roelle, as long as I’m in this form, there can’t be anything between us. You know that and as far as we know, I’m stuck this way…forever.”
Her eyes blazed brighter than my own. “I refuse to believe that, Raven. Marcus will find a way to help us. I know that. I went to the wishing well and asked for my heart’s desire. It showed me you, Raven. You, not the Black Dragon but you. Not you, the teenage boy who died but a mature, noble adult in a suit such as Prince Corwin wore standing between your father and grandfather. I believe in that vision and you should, too.”
A servant knocked on her door to announce the evening meal would be served in an hour’s time and her lady’s maid would be up to help her dress as it was formal. Roelle rolled her eyes and within minutes, a veritable horde was inside preparing a bath, clothes and toilette for a noble’s daughter. I observed the whole proceedings from my perch upon her blanket rack with both hind legs wrapped tightly on the wooden bar. Sitting up like a pet monkey.
Her people watched me out of the corners of their eyes, curiosity making them bold. They asked many questions about me and she answered politely. When asked what presents she had brought from Amber, she waxed eloquently and they were suitably impressed. She did not have any idea what my own gift was, only that Murphy had carefully and secretly packed it into a chest marked ‘for the bridegroom from the Black Dragon’. That crate had been especially fussed over by the guards to ensure it was protected and secured.
When she was done dressing (and it had taken nearly an hour from start to finish) she was breathtaking in a powder blue gown with a trailing skirt, lace sleeves and square neckline. Her hair was up in loose curls with a king’s ransom in jewels woven through it and gigantic pearls on her ears. A choker of blue pearls wrapped her neck and she had hung from it a delicate seashell carved by the Queen. Random had given her a black onyx diadem shaped like a dragon with wings that she wore on her forehead. I swallowed, in awe at her beauty and poise.
“Wow!” I said unable not to and the crowd around her gaped at me.
“It speaks? Roelle, Lady Roelle, it speaks?” One of the older women gasped.
“Like a parrot,” she said swiftly. “It repeats what he hears. Good morning, my dear.” She prompted.
“Morning,” I said and wiped at my snout as I’d seen an Amazon Gray do. “Morning, morning, morning.”
“Pretty boy, aren’t you, Raven?” She cooed.
“Pretty boy.” I rolled my one eye and flapped off following discreetly behind as they escorted her to the Grande salon where they dined and en famile. If you considered forty people family. Everyone was introduced to each other. We ate a meal fit for a king and the ladies retired to do those things ladies did while men smoked, drank and bullshitted. I remained atop the corbels of the huge hall hiding on a gargoyle’s face that reminded me of Murphy. I eavesdropped I admit, because I was nosy. Most of the conversation was about Amber, Court, me and whether Roelle had an eye for any young man. Marcus was never considered because he was only a chef’s son. Which pissed me off because he was honest, caring, and hard-working, just as worthy as any so-called noble’s son. The discussion turned to Khafra and the unrest that was starting between Amber and Luke, Khafra’s newly crowned King. It seemed he was a friend of my father’s, he’d known him since his college days. I wasn’t sure what the conflict was over – whether it was between King Luke and his subjects or some other claimant to the throne or against Amber and Random. I did hear that they had sent a present to Roelle’s brother’s wedding. His name was Lambrecht by the way and she had told me he’d been called Lamby until he beat the last one to call him that. I’d asked if it had been her and she frowned at me.
“When I was twelve,” she muttered. “Not since then. He pulled out my hair.”
Dinner was over and the socializing quit about midnight before everyone departed for the respective bedrooms. It took me a while to track Marcus down as his status wasn’t really obvious. On Ro’s insistence he’d been given a room inside the house and not with the soldiers or servants. In fact, he was two doors down from Ro’s companion. I found his door shut and wasn’t sure which window was his from the outside so I climbed up the molding to hang halfway up and thumped my legs on the door.
“Who is it?” He called.
“Raven.”
“Oh.” I heard him rustling and presently, he opened the door to scoop me off it before he shut it behind us. His room was small, neat and done in oak mellowed to a golden finish with a snug bunk, chair, table and running water in a small privy. He had oil lamps and one small window that faced the valley with the villagers reside in. No balcony for him. Still, it was more than a maid’s garret. The fireplace was busily burning the bluestone I used to feed my flames. Every so often, a chute opened and poured more onto the flames. It was pretty modern considering Amber was a near feudal realm. The room was toasty and he was in his long handles with his hair wet.
“Shower,” he said grinning. “With hot water.” He showed me and I was surprised at the modern conveniences. The Baron was quite modern, even had flush toilets and sewage pipes. “His eldest son designed it. After seeing Amber and the Castle,” he explained. “What’s up?” He had picked up a few of my sayings, too.
“Just checking to see if they’re treating you properly.” I said. I cocked my head as I heard the squeaking of a mouse. Before I could even think about it, I ducked, caught and ate it. Marcus blanched.
“Well, it tastes good,” I defended. “It’s not like I can eat pheasant under glass anymore.”
“I drew the line at watching you bite off a cow’s head,” he shuddered.
“Yeah, well my meat doesn’t come wrapped in plastic and pink Styrofoam,” I retorted.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. When is this wedding? And when are we leaving for Khafra?”
“The wedding is this weekend. I thought maybe you had some ideas how we can get to Khafra. I know you told Roelle you can’t Trump there. What if you had a set?”
“Marcus, you didn’t!” I said astonished. Corwin would kill him.
“Let’s say I could get a set,” he hedged. “Would you use it?”
“It wouldn’t help, Marcus. There’s no trump for Khafra in any sets that I’ve ever seen.”
“But there is a set with Luke’s portrait on one,” he grinned.
I gaped. “You stole my dad’s set?”
“Well, he wasn’t using them,” he protested laughing. “So, I thought we could.”
“You have a plan?”
“I thought we’d stay until just after the wedding and when the couple leaves for their new estates, we’d offer to go part of the way with them. Once out of sight of the party, we could trump us all to Khafra before anyone could do anything to stop us,” he offered.
“Best to do it right after the ceremony when everyone is busy with the new couple and gifts. No one will be paying attention to us,” I suggested.
“Sounds good. Are you comfortable at this size? I can turn you back –”
“No,” I decided. “The sight of my forty feet of Dragon body would race home to the Castle and before you know it, Dad, Granddad and King Random would all be on the doorstep. As it is, I’m already a sensational topic around here. They heard me speak.”
“Oh no! What did you say?”
“Pretty boy, good morning,” I snickered and flew off to hear him laugh at me. I knew he’d get the whole story from Roelle.