AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fly away,” I found myself begging under my breath. “Why won’t you just fly away?”
Maybe the dragon was too angry, maybe it wanted some vengeance against this unprovoked attack, but whatever the reason, it remained, beating those vast wings to keep itself in place, facing down its attackers.
There was a wooden ‘thunk’ and a net was fired up into the air, in an attempt to snare the dragon. The attempt failed, but the net snagged the beast’s wing and set it off-balance in its flight. As it writhed in mid-air, struggling to get free while keeping itself airborne and avoiding any further attacks, I heard a single voice from the party rising above the others.
“Now! You’ve got it! The thing’s defenseless.”
This time, I did look away, but I couldn’t block out the sound; a screech like metal grated against stone as the crossbow bolt found its mark and the dragon screamed. Other sounds followed, the thud of a body, the sound of a struggle, the death throes getting ever weaker, all almost lost beneath the cheering of the party itself.
I looked up again, this time across at my father. His eyes were closed, but I could see he was listening. He’d hoped, as I had, that the hunt would be fruitless—dragons were rare these days and there was no guarantee the royal party would find one. Now he was forcing himself to hear the dragon die, partly to feel the guilt that he felt he deserved, but also because he felt he owed the creature that much; its death would not be unnoted, nor unmourned.
The party was led back by Lord Jonas, one of my father’s best and most loyal warriors and a man I liked. I knew he would not have participated in the hunt if my father hadn’t asked him to do so, and I was sure he hadn’t been in at the kill.
“You are successful?” My father did his best to smile as the Kings of Latran and Gaunt returned, followed by their sons and my older sisters.
“See for yourself,” smiled the King of Latran, through a thick beard.
Bringing up the rear, a group of attendants carried the body of a blue dragon. I didn’t know enough about dragons to know if it was male or female, young or old—little was known about dragons as they kept to themselves, even in Wincham—but it was a sight that sickened me.
“Prince Harker fired the killing shot.” My sister Sylvia smiled at the handsome Prince of Latran. “He was very brave.”
“He couldn’t have done it without Prince Titus.” Rhea defended the tall, muscular Prince of Gaunt.
“Girls,” my father chided. “Come, let us eat, while your…catchis taken down the mountain.”
Dragons were not hunted for eating, they were hunted because killing a dragon was considered the bravest thing a man could do (despite the advantages of a modern hunting crossbow) and because dragons took livestock from time to time, though they were now so few in number, they could hardly be considered a pest.
We repaired to the dining tent, where servants had laid out an impressive spread along the folding table that had been carried up the mountain. My father took the head of the table as befitted his status—this was a diplomatic meeting, but it didn’t do to let the other kings forget that there was only one King Uther, and that Wincham was the largest nation in the lowlands with the largest army. If the warring between the nations continued, then Wincham would surely be victorious.
But only eventually. And the on-again, off-again wars between Wincham and Latran, Wincham and Gaunt, Gaunt and Latran, and all against each other still had the potential to eke out long past my father’s death and that of his successor, while each side ran up a terrible death toll.
As soon as he was old enough, when my grandfather was still king, my father had led troops into battle. He’d watched them kill and be killed and still bore his own scars. When he became king, ending that war with Wincham the victor was an obsession; he was determined not to just be King of Wincham, but ruler of a lowland Empire. Maybe age had brought wisdom, maybe the long wars had ground him down—a pact here and accord there, nothing that ever held—or maybe he was just tired, but now he sought a better way.
Not that his ambitions had really changed…
“This is how it should always be,” my father said, raising his glass. “We should be friends, not enemies. And, as you know, I am here to propose that we henceforth be more than that.”
I didn’t know exactly what he was talking about but apparently the others did, because they all nodded heartily.
“The security of all our nations from the outside lies in our being together,” my father continued.
“While still remaining individual,” put in the King of Latran. Past alliances had failed because, while all three nations recognized the value of unity, they also felt strongly that they were all separate sovereign nations.
“For now,” acknowledged my father. “Perhaps the day will come when that changes, but… Well, that is something that we old men may not live to see. I hope our grandchildren may rule a single unbroken empire, but it will beourgrandchildren.”
I began to see where this was going and wondered why I’d been too slow to see it earlier. But all the while I wondered: what would it mean for me?
“I am here to propose a pact by marriage between our three nations,” my father went on. “My eldest daughter Rhea will marry Prince Harker so they may rule Latran after your majesty’s death.”
Rhea inclined her head though there was a flicker of uncertainty in her expression.
My father continued. “My middle daughter, Sylvia, comes of age in two weeks and will then marry Prince Titus of Gaunt, where they can rule jointly when the time comes.”
“What about Wincham?” asked Sylvia, not objecting, but noticing the gap in my father’s grand plan. Wincham was the throne that all wanted.
“Your sister Selena is not yet old enough to marry,” my father went on, smiling at me tenderly. “But when she is, she will marry Jonas, and they will rule in Wincham.”
“So Wincham remains solely in the hands of your family?” put in the King of Latran.
