Rage of the Dragon

CHAPTER 16

Treia lay in her bridal bed, waiting tensely until she was certain Raegar was either asleep or passed out-he had celebrated by consuming a great deal of wine. They had consummated the marriage, and while she waited she passed the time hoping that they had conceived a child. She needed yet another link in the chain she had wound around Raegar. A son would be the strongest yet.

She wanted a baby. A son to nurture, to raise. A son who would love her and only her.

Treia poked Raegar. He gave a drunken grumble, but did not move. He was always a heavy sleeper, even without the wine to dull his senses. Treia slid from the bed, padded softly across the room. Wrapping herself in a robe against the night’s chill, she sat down at the small table in one of the two chairs in their small dwelling.

Now that she and Raegar were married, they had been permitted to move into quarters for married couples: two bare, cold, cell-like rooms.

“Never mind,” said Treia, lighting a candle. “We won’t be here long. We will be moving into the grand palace belonging to the Priest-General.”

Her wedding gift, the necklace holding the spiritbone of the Dragon Fala, rested on the table. The setting was crude and unlovely, for it had been done in haste. After receiving the spiritbone, Raegar had taken the bone to one of the local jewelry makers with orders that it be made into a pendant. He could not afford gold or silver and so the jeweler had used bronze. A misshapen dragon with a lumpy tail held the spiritbone in four claws. High Priest Atemis had frowned at it during the ceremony and was overheard to make a remark about “savages and their strange customs.”

Treia snuggled into the warm robe and picked up the spiritbone and lovingly caressed it. Ugly though it might be, the spiritbone was hers. The Dragon Fala was hers.

Treia had never liked the Dragon Kahg because she knew the dragon did not like her. Treia had not wanted to be a dragon priestess. She’d been essentially sold into the Kai priesthood by her mother in return for the gods healing her father. The gods had not held up their end of the bargain. Her father had died and Treia had lived the life of a slave.

What was once a curse was now a blessing. Holding the spiritbone of the Dragon Fala in her hand, Treia smiled derisively. She would use the Vindrasi priestess’s own teachings to destroy them.

Treia spoke to the dragon’s bone as she ran her fingers over it and watched the bright blur that was the candle flame reflected in the bronze. She spoke softly, so as not to disturb Raegar, who must not hear what she was about to do.

“I need to talk to you, Fala. I know you are upset. You must forgive my husband.” Treia’s heart thrilled as she said the word. “Raegar was not trained as a Bone Priestess and he did not know what he was doing. I understand. I spent years studying the art of working with dragons. I-”

“And who are you?”

The voice came from the spiritbone.

“I am Treia, wife of Raegar,” she responded.

“You have been trained as a Bone Priestess. Do you, then, worship the Dragon Goddess of the Kai, the one known as Vindrash?” Fala’s voice was cold and harsh.

“I prayed to Vindrash. I knew no better. I now pray to Aelon.”

“You pray to him. Do you worship him?”

Treia heard a sneer in the dragon’s voice, as if Fala was prepared to accept Treia’s weakness, but would always secretly despise her for it. Treia felt as though she understood the dragon. She hoped the dragon would understand her and decided to risk telling the truth.

“Perhaps I will offend you, Dragon Fala, but there should be no secrets between us,” said Treia. “I honor and I respect Aelon, but I do not worship him. I do not worship any god. How could I, when I see gods acting out of conceit and ambition and greed, laid low by the same faults and follies as they claim to abhor in man.”

The Dragon Fala was silent for a long moment and Treia feared she had made a mistake.

Then the dragon said, with a chuckle, “You are wise for a human, Treia. Wiser than the male you have taken for a mate, since we are both speaking the truth. I entered this realm for one reason: to search for young dragons to form a clan of my own. I refused to ally myself with the Old Gods. Their wyrds are frayed and tattered and will soon break. I was approached by both the Gods of Raj and Aelon. Both wanted me to join with them.

“I considered both. The Gods of Raj came late to the table and found nothing but leftover races: the ogres and the Cyclops and the goblins. I considered choosing them.”

“Why is that?” Treia was forced to ask politely, though she was impatient to embark upon her plan. The Dragon Fala apparently liked to chat.

“Because of the Cyclops, a race that is most promising. They are humans who paint a third eye, known as the ‘world eye’ on their foreheads. This eye is magical and gives them special powers of insight into the human soul. Then, too, the Cyclops have always honored dragons. The entrance to our realm is located in a mountain in their land. The Cyclops worship the Gods of Raj and venerate them.”

“You rejected them, apparently,” said Treia, keeping an ear cocked, listening for Raegar and wishing the dragon would hurry this along.

“The Cyclops are shepherds and farmers. They are not explorers. They build no ships. They dislike war and fighting. They are content with what they have, with no desire to go raiding their neighbors. That is of little use to me. I wanted to travel the world to acquire the jewels in which reside baby dragons.

“Aelon offered me the chance to explore the world with a war galley, as well as the jewels in the Church’s treasury that turned out to be dragons. A bargain I trust you and the god will honor.”

Treia sighed with relief. She could not have asked for a better opening.

“I would honor it, as would my husband, Raegar. We are both Vindrasi and we understand how to work with dragons.” Treia shook her head sorrowfully. “Unfortunately, Aelon grants control of the treasure vault to only one man and that is the Priest-General. The office remains vacant since the untimely death of the last Priest-General. A successor has not yet been chosen. Raegar would be honored to accept the position-”

“Then let him be Priest-General and be done with it,” said the Dragon Fala.

“The matter is not that simple,” Treia said with deep regret. “The choice of the Priest-General is left to men. The other man vying for the post is the son of the last Priest-General, Xydis. Many on the Council are planning to select him. For all we know, Aelon himself may incline in that direction.”

“I know this Xydis,” said the Dragon Fala, angered. “Raegar sought payment for me in the form of certain fine gems he had seen in the vault. When he attempted to obtain them, Xydis refused, claiming he had received no instructions from the god.”

“I promise you, Dragon Fala, that if Raegar is named Priest-General, you will have first pick of all the jewels that come into the treasury.”

“We could leave the choice to Aelon,” said Fala.

“We could…” Treia shrugged.

Fala chuckled again. “Let me hear your plan.”

“You must keep this secret,” Treia warned. “My husband must not know. He is a pious man and would not understand.”

The Dragon Fala agreed to cooperate. Dragon and Bone Priestess parted on the best of terms.

After the dragon was gone, Treia remained seated at the table, dreaming of the future. She was shocked to realize that for the first time in her life, she was happy. She was married to the man she adored. A man who would rise to great heights in this world, and she would rise with him. She was thinking about this, smiling contentedly, when the candle’s flame flared up with a sudden hiss that made Treia start.

She was about to trim the wick when she was horrified to see eyes in the flame. Treia’s mouth went dry; her breath stopped. She gripped the table with both hands to support herself or she would have fallen from the chair.

Hevis, god of fire, lies, and deceit, gazed at her from the fire.

“What … what do you want?” Treia whispered through trembling lips.

“We made a bargain. I gave you what you wanted-the power to summon the Vektia dragon. You owe me. You promised to sacrifice one you love.”

“Aylaen is dead,” Treia said, shivering. “I promised you she would die and she did.”

“You didn’t kill her.”

“I tried! That horrid fae boy attacked me before I could…” She stopped, choked by terror.

The god’s eyes burned.

“Excuses! You seek to weasel out of your bargain with me.”

Treia wilted beneath the heat. “Please, give me more time…”

“You have nine months. Or the choice of the sacrifice is mine.”

The candle guttered, the flame flashed out. The god vanished, leaving Treia shuddering. Nine months. What could that mean? She had to kill someone she loved … Nine months.

“Oh, god!” Treia moaned, clasping her hand spasmodically over her belly. “Oh, god, no!”

She nearly fainted when she heard footsteps.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Raegar grumbled, coming up behind her. “What are you doing?”

Treia drew in a quivering breath, then pushed herself up from the table.

“I couldn’t sleep … for joy…” Treia gulped. “Come, let us go back to bed.”

She walked unsteadily into the bed chamber and crawled beneath the blanket. Raegar plunked himself down beside her.

“Damn, woman, you’re freezing! Your body is like a block of ice.” He laughed. “I’ll warm you.”

He began to run his hands over her body. His touch usually thrilled her, but now she felt sick to her stomach. Her skin crawled. She tried to claim she was too tired, but he was awake now and filled with desire. Treia stiffened.

“What’s wrong with you?” Raegar said angrily. “This is our wedding night.”

“You … you have so much work to do tomorrow,” Treia stammered. “You should be rested…”

“I will rest. After this.”

He drew her to him. She yielded to him, but when they were finished, Treia curled up into a ball. His seed was in her womb. Hevis’s curse would see to that. Treia choked back her sobs.

Nine months. She had nine months to find a sacrifice, or either her baby or her husband would die.