Dream of Dragons Read online

  Dream of Dragons

  By

  Alex Alcasid

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Warmaster Sairus clinked as he walked. The plate mail he wore was fitted well enough, having been commissioned by the queen herself to fit the contours of his body. The smith, thankfully, had not balked at the idea of crafting a suit of armor for the Beastman, and that was when the queen knew the alliance with the Beastmen would be a success. The smith had worked very closely with Sairus, as he had not made anything for a Beastman before, and thought of the task as a great challenge and honor.

  It had been a full year since King Jorrne and Queen Katarina had signed the alliance into effect, and a full year since Sairus had been given by the Beastman king to the human kingdom to serve in their court as the Warmaster, the tactician and adviser. He told himself frequently, while holding his head high, that his purpose was noble. One of a kind. He was the best man for the job and will serve faithfully.

  Now, the esteemed Warmaster had to remind himself of his purpose, and to have patience, as he chased a squirming, shrieking little human girl through the halls of Castle Aldoran.

  “My lady!” He called, his armor clinking as he walked faster. “Please, don’t run in the halls. Court will start in a few minutes, and the queen expects you to be there.”

  Loren, the little princess and current thorn in Sairus’s side, giggled in response and sped around the corner. She peeked around it, smiling, and Sairus knew she wanted to play chase. The usually stern panther’s mouth quirked up in a slight smile. Cats did like to play chase. He undid the clasps of his heavy plate armor as he walked, and eased them down to the stone floor as he approached. Loren, seeing the Warmaster rid himself of his heavy armor, ran down the hall with peals of laughter.

  Soon Loren ran out of breath, and didn’t hear the Warmaster’s clinking footsteps. She looked back down the hall, and strained to hear any noise above her own breathing. That’s when she heard the soft padding of footsteps muffled by fur, and the light tap of claws on stone. Sairus turned the far corner of the hall, running on all fours and quickly approaching the young princess. Loren shrieked, as little girls do, and tried to run away, but the panther pounced and easily scooped Loren up in a tight hug, rolling on the floor to her laughter. When he stood, Loren giggled and balled her fists in tufts of his fur, and beat at his tunic-clad chest.

  “Not fair! You’re too fast when you do that!” Loren said, her little fits slightly sinking into the short fur of Sairus’s arms.

  The Warmaster smiled, and put the princess down. “I’m sorry, my lady. But you do have to join your parents in court.” He offered his hand to the little princess, and began to walk with her back down the hall. “And it’s dangerous for you to be running the halls, my lady. You might trip or bump into things.”

  “But you don’t, right?” Loren asked, craning her neck to look up at Sairus. “I saw cats on the castle walls, and they never trip or even fall.”

  “I’m not a feral like those cats, my lady,” Sairus said patiently. “But I don’t trip or fall, just like them.”

  “Don’t listen to him, my lady!” A voice sounded, accompanied by the rustle of a cloak. “Bathes by licking his fur just like the castle cats, and chases mice in the kitchens on all fours.”

  The Warmaster sighed and waved dismissively at the figure that appeared behind them. “The Spymaster plays games, my lady, and his job is to spread lies. I do not lick myself, Beastmen are above that.”

  “Sairus, my friend, you wound me. My job is to find secrets as well, don’t forget.” Spymaster Isran chuckled, pulling down the hood of his cloak to reveal his sharp eyes. He approached Loren and bowed, a hand disappearing into the folds of his cloak. “A present, my lady.” He said, taking something out.

  Loren squealed, little hands eagerly grasping for the bag of candy the Spymaster held out. “Cherry candies! Thank you, Spymaster!” the princess said, hugging him.

  “Candies, Isran?” Sairus sighed as he buckled his armor back on. “Wouldn’t that spoil our lady’s dinner?”

  “Come now, you old cat. Where’s your sense of humor? The cherry ones are the little princess’s favorite.” Isran said with a chuckle. He stood, and with a wave of his cloak, held his arm out as if holding a rapier pointed at Sairus. “Do you seek to steal away the princess from me?”

  “Isran, please. This is no time for games. We have to attend court; the queen will be looking for us and her daughter.” Sairus scoffed. “And we’re not little boys anymore.”

  “Please fight, Warmaster!” Loren squealed, bounding up and down in excitement. “I love watching you fight!”

  “Ah see, Sairus? We must always entertain our lady’s wishes. We may not be little boys, but our princess is a little girl.” Isran smirked down his imaginary sword. “Court is at the tenth bell, we have time. What do you say?”

  The Warmaster sighed, and shook his head. Loren’s face began to fall from disappointment, when Sairus reached up to a pair of decorative swords that hung on the wall. He pulled them down, and ushered Loren to an arm chair by the mantle. “This is not my preferred battleground, but it must do. Please watch from here, my lady. Now… Have at thee, brigand!”

  The Warmaster and Spymaster fought, dueling with the ornamental swords. Their sweeping motions were grand, slow and exaggerated, as their princess looked on with eyes wide in wonder, one hand steadily passing from the bag of candies to her mouth. Sairus lunged forward with his sword held straight. In an actual battle, Sairus would never perform this move. It left his guard wide open, and without a shield he was even more vulnerable. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw the little princess gasp in awe. Isran batted aside Sairus’s sword easily and closed the distance with an equally dramatic sweep of his own.

  The two continued on, threatening each other with exaggerated, flowery language, till they became too engrossed in their play fight, and how familiar it was to the time when they were boys, scraping by on the streets of Aldoran. Warmaster Sairus struck down Isran, toppling the human over onto his backside, and leveled his sword at Isran’s chest. “You’ve been defeated, you miserable cur. Surrender!”

  A steady stream of applause sounded from behind the two masters. They had expected one pair of hands clapping, in little, excited strokes, but there was another. Sairus looked behind him, while Isran scrambled to his feet. Sitting at the armchair with her daughter in her lap, was the queen. She laughed at the display, and let her daughter hop down.

  “I wasn’t expecting this from you, Sairus.” The queen said with a smile. “Come now, don’t bow so low. It was entertaining. I can see where my daughter runs off to when she’s late for her tutor.”

  The Warmaster kneeled and kept his head low, burning with embarrassment. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace.
I don’t usually-“

  Queen Katarina stood, the fabric of her blue and gold gown falling gracefully to her sides. “It is as I said, Sairus. It was entertaining. And Loren did love it. Get up, Warmaster, don’t be so mortified. It was all in good fun. Come now, I can’t have my Warmaster and Spymaster missing when I attend court.”

  “Court!” Isran said, suddenly remembering something. He bowed low and apologetic before the queen. “My queen, I meant to tell you at court, but I was sidetracked. You and the king have a visitor for today.”

  “Who is it? Is it Gaturr of the Beastmen? I had been hoping he would visit for some time.”

  “No, Your Grace. He’s come a long way, from the far side of the Kilrough Mountains. Aerius Dagan, King of Sagna.”

  The queen’s brows furrowed in thought. “Aerius Dagan? The last time I saw him, I was a young girl, as old as Loren. What is he doing here?”

  “I don’t know, Your Grace. He seeks an audience, but for what, I don’t know. A young girl travels with him, I think she is his daughter.”

  “Well, we’ll have to see what he wants.” Queen Katarina sighed, and beckoned Loren closer. “To court then, masters. I told Jorrne to wait for us there while I went to find Loren.”

  The throne room was crowded. Guards stood at every pillar, fully armored, with their gauntlet clad hands clenched around sword hilts and halberds. A view of the sea could be seen from the high windows, with light glittering on the waves. Somewhere far on those waves, a dragon roared as it spiraled upwards into the sky.

  Two thrones stood atop a small dais. carved out of the core of an ancient oak, said to have grown at the Eye of the World, or so Katarina’s father used to say. Once she inherited the throne, the queen didn’t much care for the origins of furniture, as long as they served their intended purpose. King Jorrne was already seated at his throne when his queen arrived and saw in the throne beside him, while the Warmaster and Spymaster took up positions on either side of the dais alongside the other advisers, the Trademaster and Spellmaster. Loren had her own seat, close to the masters. The heavy double doors of the throne room swung open, and a servant announced the arrival of the King of Sagna.

  Aerius Dagan walked down the length of the throne room, stopping respectfully at the base of the dais. He looked to King Jorrne, then to Queen Katarina, and inclined his head. Beside him stood a young girl; the princess Haedria. Her silk gown in the reds and blacks of Sagna had no sleeves, and showed the pale skin of her arms that bore swirling, dark markings. She did not bow or even look at the rulers of Aldoran. Instead, her sharp eyes found Loren in the crowd. The princess of Sagna stared at the princess of Aldoran, and smiled. The dark markings on her skin began to softly glow like gently stoked coals.

  Loren stared back, confused and uncomfortable. While King Aerius spoke to King Jorrne and Queen Katarina, Loren leaned over to tug the sleeve of the Spellmaster. He was the oldest of the court’s advisers, but had a handsome, unlined face. His long beard was dyed a different color every week, and was kept tied in three braids.

  “Spellmaster…” Loren started, finding it hard to tear her eyes away from Haedria’s strange markings.

  The Spellmaster knew immediately what the little princess wanted to ask. He bent lower to her, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Those are mage markings, my lady. Those who are born with a swirl of darkness upon their skin are blessed – or cursed – with magic. The more markings a mage has, the stronger their magic. Mine are here.” He pulled up the sleeve of his robe, and showed Loren his forearm. Running down the Spellmaster’s arm were swirls of dark markings, lying dormant.

  Loren frowned as she thought. “They’re only on your arm? But her’s are…” she trailed off, thinking back on the Spellmaster’s words.

  He nodded and withdrew his arm. “That young princess is far more powerful than even I, and I have been chosen by your father to be the Spellmaster because I am the most powerful mage in Aldoran. Princess Haedria may be the strongest mage in all the world.”

  “It’s no accident that King Aerius brought his eldest daughter with him today.” The Spymaster whispered, crouching beside Loren’s chair. “King Aerius has two daughters, the younger one is named Seraphis. Only a year behind her sister but she has no magic, and is more interested in fighting and raising hounds…” he took a breath. “Bringing the mage here, letting her stand in the middle of the throne room with her markings glowing… It’s a power play. He wants us to know that Sagna is a threat.”

  “But he’s talking about peace! And alliances, and – and trade routes!” Loren said sitting back in her chair, frustrated.

  “That’s what he’s saying openly, to the king and queen’s face. But the underlying threat is there, my lady. If the king and queen don’t agree with King Aerius’s proposal, his daughter may bring harm to them here and now. Or maybe she won’t. The uncertainty is there, and that is what he wants.”

  Loren sighed, unease in the pit of her stomach. She looked back to where the King of Sagna stood, and watched Princess Haedria. The mage’s attention had wandered, and was looking instead out the high windows and onto the sea beyond. Loren heard the faint sound of a dragon’s roar borne on the sea breeze, and Haedria’s eyes widened. She grabbed at her father’s sleeve, knuckles white. The look on her face was of both wonder and fear.

  King Jorrne spoke, and agreed to the terms of alliance with Sagna — the land of fire and blood — far to the east. He invited the visiting king to his study where they would finalize the agreement, and plan a trade route through the mountains. The queen followed them off to the study, and Haedria was left in the throne room with the servants and guards that King Aerius had brought with him from Sagna.

  The court dispersed without the king and queen in attendance, and servants and visiting nobles filed out of the throne room. The advisers shared a glance among themselves, and went about their duties. The Warmaster followed the king and queen out, as he was their head guard. The Spymaster disappeared, when just a minute ago, he was standing behind Loren. The Trademaster with his purse of coins jingling, wandered off muttering something about a new shipment of bloodwine from Kespia arriving by ship. The Spellmaster stayed in the throne room, wary of Haedria being left in the chamber. A soft blue light shone from his sleeve, and Loren knew it was from his mage markings. The Spellmaster did not stop Loren when she rose from her chair and crossed the room, eager to speak to Haedria.

  When she got closer, she realized Haedria was closer to her age than she thought. Not a decade old yet, but there was a tiredness and severity in her eyes that made Loren sure that Haedria was older. She held her hand out for the Sagnian princess.

  “Hello! I’m Loren Elisis Cyrael, Princess of Aldoran! But my friends call me Loren.” The little princess said cheerfully, beaming. “It’s nice to meet you!”

  Haedria slowly tore her gaze away from the window, and the dragon she was sure was out there. She glanced down at Loren’s outstretched hand, then flicked her gaze up to inspect her face. She didn’t take Loren’s hand. “I know who you are, dragon princess.” She said curtly.

  Loren’s smile faded. She kept her hand close to her chest. “Alright. Um… Your name is—“

  Haedria cut her off, staring at Loren with sharp, dark eyes. “Haedria Dagan, heir to the Sagnian throne.” She turned away, and stared back out the window. The bright noon light lit Haedria’s blood red hair into a fiery colored blaze. “The dragon is on the Aldoran banners. Blue and gold. I’ve heard tales that a dragon, the same dragon as in the stories, lives on your lands.”

  Loren glanced around the throne room, at the proud banners that bore her family’s crest, and the sitting dragon emblazoned in blue and gold. Talking to Haedria made her feel uneasy. “The crest is just a symbol, to reflect the family’s values.”

  “The dragon symbolizes power. The Cyraels of Aldoran value power.”

  “Not just that. Power is good to have, so you can protect those dear to you. And the dragon is sitting, look. It�
�s friendly.”

  Haedria did look up to the banners, then she began to laugh. It was a foreboding sound, coming from so young a girl. She smiled at Loren, and the marge markings that covered her arms and back flickered with an inner flame. “So it is. It lies in wait, ready to protect its friends.” She said. The mage princess lifted her hand and tapped the silver dragon pendant that sat in the hollow of Loren’s throat with a single finger. “Isn’t that right?”

  A door to the throne room opened, and King Jorrne stepped through, laughing loudly. Beside him walked King Aerius, who shared a cheerful look. Queen Katarina followed behind, looking tired and unamused, but she always looked like that after meetings.

  “It’s unfortunate you have to go so soon, my friend!” King Jorrne said, clapping Aerius on the back with a heavy, calloused hand. “We could have gone on a hunt together!”

  King Aerius laughed. “Perhaps in a few years, Jorrne. I must get back to Sagna soon, my youngest is impressionable and rowdy, with no mother to calm her. Can you believe it, the little girl would rather play with hounds in the mud all day, swing her sword-sticks at the guards? I’ll be back soon, my friend.”

  King Jorrne laughed, and ordered the Warmaster to arrange an escort for Aerius and his daughter at least as far as the Kilrough mountains. Aerius took his daughter’s hand and turned to leave, and Haedria only stared back as Loren waved goodbye.

  Frowning and shaken, Loren returned to her mother. “Mother, I have a bad feeling about her.”

  “Who, Haedria? My dear, she’s as old as you are. What could be wrong?”

  “I think she knows about Lind. I don’t know how, but I think she wants to hurt him.”

  Queen Katarina looked troubled. “That’s impossible… But I understand your fears, Loren.”

  “Mother, I think Lind will be in trouble. I have to protect him!”

  “He’s an ancient beast, Loren, don’t worry. If anyone needs protecting, its nine-year old girls like yourself.” The queen smiled, pinching Loren’s cheeks. “But he would appreciate the effort, I’m sure. Lind would love a valiant little warrior watching over him for a change.”