two wizards were literally under her spell. Pael had charmed them to her long ago. They had no choice but to obey and adore her. This was disturbing because she had long thought them her true friends.
Looking back, she realized that Pael had loved her. After all, he had conquered Westland for her when he made King Glendar empty it of able bodied men. The knowledge of the spell he cast over her wizards allowed her to order them around more objectively now. Pael had left a trail of information that led her directly to his journals. She’d spent most of her life thinking that he had forgotten her, that he loved Prince Glendar and had really wanted a son. Now she understood that a lot of what he did had been done for her, at least until he found the power of Shokin. She still hated her father, though. He killed Gerard.
Gerard had become more than human, and she longed for him like a desert longs for water. She growled with frustration as O’Dakahn came into view below them. Here she was fussing with King Ra’Gren when she could be bringing Gerard out of his hellish prison. The King of Dakahn had pointed out in his missive that she owed him, and maybe she did. His pirates had helped capture the barges of weapons and supplies that sustained her zard army while they prepared to take Westland. But Pael had paid him handsomely for the aid. She owed Ra’Gren the courtesy of hearing his need, but nothing more.
She was a true Dragon Queen again, and her lover was about to provide her with an army of demons. Ra’Gren needed to understand the only reason he was sitting his throne was because she allowed it. If anything, he owed her for that.
After a meal of sea-born delicacies that was followed by the slow satisfaction of a young slave girl’s mouth, King Ra’Gren reconvened his court. The announcer’s staff finished booming, and his mouth opened to call out, but the news of Queen Shaella’s arrival burst through the door in the form of an overly excited messenger boy. The poor runner was as terrified of catching the King’s trident in his chest as he was of the sleek black dragon outside.
“Welcome her in then,” Ra’Gren ordered one of the men lingering near his throne.
“She says for you to come to her,” the boy said before darting back out of the throne room as fast as he possibly could.
It was hard to tell whether the long low sound that escaped Ra’Gren was a sigh or a growl. After a moment of brooding, he rose. “Very well,” he conceded. “Gather my personal guard.”
A few moments later Ra’Gren’s procession made its way out of the front doors of his lavish palace. At the bottom of the long flight of stone stairs that led into the statue-strewn bailey, a sizable young black dragon sat, looming over Queen Shaella. Its slitted yellow eyes held enough challenge in them that some of Ra’Gren’s court scurried back to the higher steps. Ra’Gren might have felt fear himself, but he didn’t show it. The captain of his guard did, though. His trembling was so pronounced that his armor was clattering. When Ra’Gren was five steps above Shaella, he stopped.
“I like what you’ve done with your hair,” he said with a slight bow and a smirk on his face. “You’ve grown into form, I see.”
Shaella didn’t let his remark about her burned scalp bother her. She wasn’t a vain little girl. She knew that her scars were ugly. Instead of reacting, she had Vrot stretch his long sinuous neck over her so that his acid dripping maw was inches from Ra’Gren. The King of Dakahn’s face went as a white as his hair. It was obvious he was fighting not to tremble as the fetid stench of Vrot’s corrosive breath blew his hair back.
A long silence ensued, while Ra’Gren gathered himself. “If your dragon is hungry, Shaella,” he said as he pushed the clattering captain of his guard toward her, “this one has volunteered to be his meal. A captain who would allow a dragon to land at my doorstep without even a warning is worthless to me.”
As the soldier stumbled forth, Vrot didn’t wait for Shaella’s Command. He clamped his mouth down over him. The sound of crunching bone and corroding metal drowned out the man’s screams. The dragon then tilted his head back and chugged the body deeper into his maw. In two heartbeats the captain’s kicking legs disappeared down the dragon’s gullet. Somewhere higher up the steps the sound of retching and the splatter of vomit was heard.
“Enough foolishness,” Shaella snapped.
“I agree,” said Ra’Gren. “Tell me, Shaella, why is it that you sold me all the Westland nobility that resisted you, but you’ll not have a slave in Westland?”
Shaella smiled. “Slavery breeds weakness.”
“Slaves can be bred to be strong or weak,” retorted Ra’Gren.
“No,” she corrected him. “Slavery breeds weakness in the master. If you take away all of your slaves, Ra’Gren, you and your overlords are helpless.” She laughed at his expression. “When you have sons, I hope they are wiser than you are.”
His growing scowl made her want to laugh even harder, but she calmed herself. “What do you want from me?” she asked harshly.
“Who are you to…” Ra’Gren’s angry roar was cut short when Vrot’s head came striking down at him.
“You’ll do well to remember who needs who,” Shaella snarled. With a wave of her hand she stopped the dragon’s attack. Ra’Gren’s face was a bright shade of red now. “You wrote that Westland owed you, but you are mistaken. Who sent you all these wagon loads of Wildermont gold, and every man, woman, and child that remained in Wildermont after my father wasted it?”
“King Glendar gave me those gifts,” Ra’Gren argued with impotent defiance.
“My father’s puppet,” said Shaella hotly. “Why do you think Pael would give you these things? Do you think he did it so that you could insult his daughter, and try to claim debts you’re not owed?”
Ra’Gren took a deep breath and tried to temper his rage. “Shaella…” he started.
“Queen Shaella,” she said. “If you want to see what power is, I will show you here and now. I will crumble your castle and let your slaves dance on your throne. If you want Westland’s aid, and are willing to ask me for it, you might get what you need. Now tell me, Ra’Gren, what do you want from me?”
Amazingly, Ra’Gren still seemed more angry than afraid. The people around him were terrified. With a scowl of distaste showing plainly on his face, he finally spoke. “I need to know that, if Queen Rachel and Willa the Witch come marching through Valleya, you will take up arms against the east and finish your father’s failed conquest.” Ra’Gren was glad to have said it the way he did. He hadn’t expected Queen Shaella to be this strong.
“You’re impossible,” she spat. “I will aid you against the east, but for my own reasons. Not for yours, or my father’s.”
Vrot lowered his head and she climbed up onto his neck. Once she was comfortable she looked down at the King of Dakahn. “You’d have me fight off the whole of the east just so you can take Wildermont. It would be easier for me to take both, Dakahn and Wildermont, for myself.” She laughed as he realized the truth of her words. “Remember that, Ra’Gren.”
As the dragon leapt into the air, Shaella was lost in the rush of her power. She’d almost forgotten how it was supposed to be. With a dragon under her, it all came back. She decided that she would reward Flick handsomely for the gift. Then she realized that the gift had truly come from Pael. After all, he was the one who had placed the charm on Flick that gave him the desire to serve her so well.
She had no doubt that Pael loved her, but she still hated him for killing Gerard.
Gerard!
Chapter Thirty – Six
Hyden was starting to worry about Mikahl. His friend wasn’t sleeping, and on those rare occasions that he did manage to find slumber, the High King tossed and turned. He was sweating profusely, as if he were feverish, but only when he was dreaming. Every now and then he would mumble something about, Princess Rosa, or King Balton. Sometimes he would wake suddenly and look around as if he were a lost child.
Hyden knew that Mikahl had plenty to worry about, but as they drew nearer to Westland, and the dangerous task they were set on taking, he found he was concerned. Mikahl was possibly too ill to attempt sneaking into the Dragon Queen’s castle. If anything, the High King’s exhausted condition would be a hindrance. Hyden hoped to help his friend sort out whatever was the matter as he didn’t want either of them to get caught. He approached Mikahl
