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“Can I sit up?” I asked, meekly, as we started back.
“No. Not yet. You have forfeited the right.”
And so I lay, glumly, across Siegfried’s back, rocking in time with the horse’s steps. But although much of my mind was flooded with disappointment, there was an increasingly large part of it that burned with one single question: How in the hell had he caught up to me?
Chapter Seven
The First Shifter
The boundary between Wincham and Latran was marked by the Border Wood, which stretched almost the whole length of the boundary from the mountains to the sea.
That seemed to be our destination, and come daylight it would be in sight. Tomorrow then, Uther and I would be handed over to our enemies.
“How about a tale to while away the evening?” Buck asked.
The campfire was lit, and the mercenaries were all seated about. Uther was next to Buck, swaying slightly from side to side. He seemed healthy enough physically, but his mental state worried me more and more. I, of course, was sitting beside Devon, who had a close grip on my tether, keeping me tight against him. I didn’t mind that too much at the times when I was unavoidably close to Vorst—I liked him to be reminded that Devon was my keeper, not him. It was not an ideal situation, but things could too easily go from bad to Vorst.
“A tale?” Vorst scoffed. “Are we children?”
“Make it one with a few wenches,” suggested Chico, playing the big man for the group.
“Nah,” Vassek growled. “I don’t want to be reminded of something I can’t have right now.”
“Do you know the tale of the first shifter?” Devon’s voice cut through the bickering.
“More dragon nonsense,” muttered Vorst.
“Ah, but it’s true,” smiled Devon. “Most probably.”
I listened as Devon began, all the while sitting close enough to him to feel his voice reverberating in his chest. I found myself mesmerized by the sound of his deep alto and by the story he unfolded.
“When Juno the dragon was pregnant, she and her mate Jove were delighted, and made their nest on the lower slopes of the mountain, so their child would grow up with the beautiful view of the lowlands. They decorated the nest with feathers and colored stones, with scraps of sheep’s wool, and with their own cast-off scales that caught the sunlight and made them gleam rainbow colors. (Some say that magpies brought them gold and silver to decorate the nest, but that is another story—and probablyjusta story.)
‘Every day, Jove flew out across the great plains of the lowlands to hunt—only the best food would do for his mate and the baby she bore inside her. But the further he traveled from their mountain home, the more he trespassed into the realm of the humans. And he could not help noticing that the fattest cattle were those farmed by those humans, penned together in great herds. They were tempting, they were a meal fit for Juno, and there were so many of them; surely the humans would not miss one.
‘I’m not here to judge what Jove did or if it was right or wrong—that is not what this tale is about. Perhaps he stole, but everything on the plains is common property, owned by all. Did the humans ask the land’s permission before they grazed their cattle, their sheep, and their goats upon it?
‘But as I say; I do not judge.
Jove dove down from the blue skies and, with the accuracy of an archer, picked off the finest and plumpest cow of the herd, carrying it up into the sky with him, bearing it back to the mountains, back to the nest, back to Juno, who ate it and thanked her loving mate for so tender a treat.
‘That night they slept, bodies held close, tails wound around each other, little knowing that this would be their last night together in this life.
‘Come the morning, they were woken by angry shouts. A party of humans had found them and was determined to punish them for the ‘theft’.
‘“If dragons have started to nest this far down the mountain, then we have let them come too close to us. They must be stopped!’”
‘Jove urged his mate to fly away with him, but Juno was too far along in her pregnancy, and was no longer able to get into the sky.
‘There was no way that Jove would abandon his mate, and he turned to face the wrath of the humans, seeking to scare them off by roaring, arching his back, flapping his wings, and baring his teeth. With a blast of hot breath, he set a tree on fire, hoping the display would make the humans retreat, and for a moment it did, but they had come prepared.
‘The humans pulled out bows and arrows and began to fire. Jove could have dodged the arrows, for the humans were not the best of shots, but he had to protect his mate and his unborn child, so he put himself between the humans and Juno. He took the arrows aimed at her, while she begged, pleaded, and implored him to save himself.
‘But Jove would not leave, he stayed there to protect his mate until, with the big male dragon now barely able to stand, one final arrow found its way to his heart.
‘As Jove fell, Juno turned her head to the blue skies and howled her anguish, the image of her dead love seared into her mind.
‘In the next instant, fury boiled through her veins and, without thinking, she broke every dragon law. She turned her rage onto the humans and incinerated every last one of them. The image of their burning bodies as they shrieked met with that of Jove’s corpse, the two forever connected in her anguished mind.
