A Fate of Dragons

Firth, eyes welling with tears, turned and fled from the room, his footsteps echoing long after he ran down the corridor.

Gareth drifted back to thinking of the sword, of his failed attempt. He could not help but feel as if he had set in motion a great calamity for himself. He felt as if he had just pushed himself off a cliff, and from this time forward, he would only be facing his descent.

He stood there, rooted to the stone in the reverberating silence, in his father’s chamber, trembling, wondering what on earth he had set in motion. He had never felt so alone, so unsure of himself.

Was this what it meant to be king?

* * *

Gareth hurried up the stone, spiral staircase, rushing up floor after floor, hurrying his way to the castle’s uppermost parapets. He needed fresh air. He needed time and space to think. He needed a vantage point of his kingdom, a chance to see his court, his people, and to remember it was all his. That, despite all the nightmarish events of the day, he was, after all, still king.

Gareth had dismissed his attendants and ran alone, up flight after flight, breathing hard. He stopped on one of the floors, bent over and caught his breath. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He kept seeing the face of his father, scolding him at every turn.

“I hate you!” he screamed to the empty air.

He could have sworn he heard mocking laughter in return. His father’s laughter.

Gareth needed to get away from here. He turned and continued running, sprinting, until finally he reached the top. He burst out through the door, and the fresh summer air hit him in the face.

He breathed deep, catching his breath, reveling in the sunshine, in the warm breezes. He took off his mantle, his father’s mantle, and threw it down to the ground. It was too hot – and he didn’t want to wear it anymore.

He hurried to the edge of the parapet and clutched the stone wall, breathing hard, looking down on his court. He could see the never-ending crowd, filtering out from the castle. They were leaving the ceremony. His ceremony. He could almost feel their disappointment from here. They looked so small. He marveled that they were all under his control.

But for how long?

“Kingships are funny things,” came an ancient voice.

Gareth spun and saw, to his surprise, Argon standing there, feet away, wearing a white cloak and hood and holding his staff. He stared back at him, a smile at the corner of his lips – yet his eyes were not smiling. They were glowing, staring right through him, and they set Gareth on edge. They saw too much.

There were so many things Gareth had wanted to say to Argon, to ask him. But now that he had already failed to wield the sword, he could not recall a single one.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gareth pleaded, desperation in his voice. “You could have told me I was not meant to hoist it. You could have saved me the shame.”

“And why would I do that?” Argon asked.

Gareth scowled.

“You are not a true counsel to the King,” he said. “You would have counseled my father truly. But not I.”

“Perhaps he was deserving of true counsel,” Argon replied.

Gareth’s fury deepened. He hated this man. And he blamed him.

“I don’t want you around me,” Gareth said. “I don’t know why my father hired you, but I don’t want you in King’s Court.”

Argon laughed, a hollow, scary sound.

“Your father did not hire me, foolish boy,” he said. “Nor his father before him. I was meant to be here. In fact, you might say I hired them.”

Argon suddenly took a step forward, and looked as if he were staring into Gareth’s soul.

“Can the same be said of you?” Argon asked. “Are you meant to be here?”

His words struck a nerve in Gareth, sent a chill through him. It was the very thing Gareth had been wondering himself. Gareth wondered if it was a threat.

“He who reigns by blood will rule by blood,” Argon proclaimed, and with those words, he swiftly turned his back and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Gareth screamed, no longer wanting him to go, needing answers. “What do you mean by that?”

Gareth could not help but feel Argon was giving him a message, that he would not rule long. He needed to know if that was what he had meant.

Gareth ran after him, but as he approached, right before his eyes, Argon disappeared.

Gareth turned, looked all around him, but saw nothing. He heard only a hollow laughter, somewhere in the air.

“Argon!” Gareth screamed.

He turned again, then looked up to the heavens, sinking to one knee and throwing back his head. He shrieked:

“ARGON!”

Chapter Seven

Erec marched alongside the Duke, Brandt and dozens of the Duke’s entourage, through the winding streets of Savaria, a crowd growing as they went, towards the house of the servant girl. Erec had insisted he meet her without delay, and the Duke had wanted to lead the way personally. And where the Duke went, everyone followed. Erec looked around at the huge and growing entourage, and was embarrassed, realizing he would arrive at this girl’s abode with dozens of people in tow.

Since he had first seen her, Erec had been able to think of little else. Who was this girl, he wondered, who seemed so noble, yet worked as a servant in the Duke’s court? Why had she fled from him so hastily? Why was it that, in all his years, with all the royal women he had met, this was the only one who had captured his heart?

Being around royalty his entire life, the son of a king himself, Erec could detect other royalty in an instant – and he sensed from the moment he spotted her that she was of a much more regal position than the one she was occupying. He was burning with curiosity to know who she was, where she was from, what she was doing here. He needed another chance to set his eyes upon her, to see if he had been imagining it or if he would still feel the way he did.

“My servants tell me she lives on the city’s outskirts,” the Duke explained, talking as they walked. As they went, people on all sides of the streets opened their shutters and looked down, amazed at the presence of the Duke and his entourage in the common streets.

“Apparently, she is servant to an innkeeper. Nobody knows her origin, where she came from. All they know is that she arrived in our city one day, and became an indentured servant to this innkeeper. Her past, it seems, is a mystery.”

They all turned down another side street, the cobblestone beneath them becoming more crooked, the small dwellings closer to each other and more dilapidated, as they went. The Duke cleared his throat.

“I took her in as a servant in my court on special occasions. She is quiet, keeps to herself. No one knows much about her. Erec,” the Duke said, finally turning to Erec, laying a hand on his wrist, “are you certain about this? This woman, whoever she is, is just another commoner. You can have your choice of any woman in the kingdom.”

Erec looked back at him with equal intensity.

“I must see this girl again. I don’t care who she is.”

The Duke shook his head in disapproval, and they all continued walking, turning down street after street, passing through twisting, narrow alleyways. As they went, this neighborhood of Savaria became even seedier, the streets filled with drunken types, lined with filth, chickens and wild dogs roaming about. They passed tavern after tavern, the screams of patrons carrying out into the streets. Several drunks stumbled before them, and as night began to fall, the streets began to be lit by torches.

“Make way for the Duke!” shouted his lead attendant, rushing forward and finally pushing drunks out of the way. All up and down the streets unsavory types parted ways and watched, amazed, as the Duke passed, Erec beside him.

Finally, they arrived at a small, humble inn, built of stucco, with a pitched, slate roof. It looked as if it could hold maybe fifty patrons in its tavern below, with a few rooms for guests above. The front door was crooked, one window was broken, and its entry lamp hung crookedly, its torch flickering, the wax too low. Shouts of drunks spilled out the windows, as they all they stopped before the door.

How could such a fine girl work in a place like this? Erec wondered, horrified, as he heard the shouts and jeers from inside. His heart broke as he thought of it, as he thought of the indignity she must suffer in such a place. It’s not fair, he thought. He felt determined to rescue her from it.