Inara folded her arms and rested one hand over her mouth in contemplation. “You mean to fight for them,” she concluded, leading Vighon to stare at the old master expectantly.
“I do,” he admitted. “There is a part of me that calls Erador home. I will not leave the people to the tyranny of monsters who would be men. If Ilargo and I don’t do something, Erador is going to be taken by someone. And whether that be a guild master or a warlord they will have taken it with blood and fear and steel. And that is all the people of Erador can expect from their new ruler.”
Inara regarded her old mentor with a familiar smile. “Here you are again, placing yourself between the light and the dark. It seems there is no other way for you to live.”
Vighon leaned forward and rested both of his hands on the table. “You’ve brought Gwenyfer here to hide,” he said with revelation.
“To be safe,” Gideon replied. “There is nowhere in Erador where she cannot be found. I would keep her with me, but if we are to truly root out those who would kill her for the throne, Ilargo and I will need to be able to move swiftly.”
Vighon pushed off from the table. “This is not to be taken lightly. None of it, be it you fighting in another war or us taking in a child.” The king met his wife’s eyes and he took a breath before running his hand through his beard. “Yet we will do it,” he finally said.
Gideon felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Thank you.” He put all of his hope into those two words.
“She will be more than safe here,” Inara assured. “We will treat her as our own.”
Gideon looked from Gwenyfer to Inara. “I would advise caution. You will not be able to stop yourself from loving her, but always know that she is not yours. She is Erador’s. Gwenyfer must know this also. Call her your ward or whatever you prefer, but I beg you not to call her your daughter. ’Tis a trap of the heart, for I will return when Erador is made safe again. On that day, I will see that she is seated on her throne, far from here.”
“I see a great alliance in our future,” Vighon remarked, eyeing the girl.
“I see great heartbreak,” Inara replied.
Gideon reached out and placed a tender hand on the queen’s arm. “I know I am asking a lot of you. I would have considered sparing you the inevitable pain and requested safe haven for her in Ayda, with your parents, but she must learn the ways of ruling from those who reign over man’s world. I know, with you, she will return to Erador all the stronger.”
“You were right to bring her to us,” Inara said, squeezing his hand. “Helping her frees you to help the people of Erador. It seems the least we can do to aid our neighbours.”
“I cannot stay long,” Gideon declared, stepping away from Inara to lean against one of the pillars and watch Gwenyfer play. “While I am here, though, I will try and help you and her with the language.”
“This is quite the campaign you’re setting out on,” Inara mused. “What of your plans for Drakanan and the eggs?”
“They have waited for thousands of years,” Gideon replied. “They can wait a little longer. Besides, I would prefer any dragons be hatched outside of a war. And whoever bonds with them will need committed time to training - I can’t do that while I’m fighting a war.”
“So you do intend to restart the order of Dragon Riders?” Vighon quizzed.
Gideon continued to watch Gwenyfer, his arms folded, while he contemplated the king’s words. “In time, yes. Though the time I speak of will sadly exceed your own.”
“Truly?” Inara questioned.
“If it takes me a hundred years to find a suitable Rider for just one egg then it takes a hundred years. I’m not going to rush it as I did with the Dragorn. I need time myself to understand what I want the order to be. All I know is… a time of dragons will come again.”
63
Creed
From the battlements of the Namdhorian barracks, nestled at the base of The Vengoran Mountains, Vighon Draqaro looked out, to the south, and saw his city, his home. It was a monument of natural rock and dressed stone that rose from the plains and stood proud over the wild land. It was a magnificent view, yet his eyes were so easily drawn to the young girl at his side.
It had only been a few months since Gideon had unceremoniously brought her into their lives, but the northman could feel his love deepening for Gwenyfer every day. She was sweet and kind while also being bold and sure of mind. The latter frequently led to daily tantrums, but Vighon had come to adore the comfort she sought upon calming down.
Vighon lowered his hand and ran his fingers through her copper hair. Gwenyfer turned her green eyes up to him and he saw the blanket she held in her hands. It was in desperate need of a wash but taking it away from the girl had proved to be about as hard as bringing down a Mountain Giant.
Footsteps on the wooden walkway turned the northman’s attention away. “Your Grace,” Seriah greeted with a bow. “Queen Gwenyfer’s lunch is ready.”
It still didn’t sound right to Vighon, but Inara had insisted on using the girl’s official title around others. She had argued that it was the only way to show the people who the strange girl living in The Dragon Keep truly was. It was also meant to be a way for Vighon and Inara to protect themselves to some extent. Publicly and regularly acknowledging that Gwenyfer was the queen of Erador kept them from adopting her in their hearts.
Such a plan, he knew, was useless.
Using a mix of both languages, Vighon ushered
