The Dragons Heart Saga

Phyla watched from her window as the caravan slowly made a start on its journey, having decided the garden could wait. She was worried for her daughter, wondering if Lord Michon had lost his senses sending her out like this. She remembered the total annihilation of the small shire to the west and the smell of burning flesh haunted her for weeks afterward. She did not know who Lord Michon’s father had angered, but they struck with a vengeance. Such attacks on shires were rare as the barbarians stayed mainly to their side of the mountains. All had been peaceful in the many years since, and she had performed her husband’s wish in giving Kellina the pendant. She knew full well what it signified, for her husband had worn it and she had seen him transform into the magnificent gold dragon that symbolized his right to rule this world. The pendant meant Kellina was the rightful heir to the throne.

When the last of the caravan had gone, she turned back to her chores and the garden in the back of her little house. It was small, yes, but it suited her, and she was grateful to Lord Michon for a place to call her own. And for the privilege of watching over Kellina even after she was a submissive in the Lord’s keep – not all parents were so fortunate, with some Lords actually having them put to death to remove all ties to the submissive’s past. She knew Lord Phalon, Michon’s older brother, had done so and she was eternally grateful that the gods had seen fit to have Michon rule the shire instead.

She worked her way through the small cottage, tidying as she went. Not that there was that much to tidy – her days of service to Lord Michon’s family had turned her into a meticulous housekeeper. The house consisted of three rooms, a small living area, a bedroom, and a kitchen. Her bathing room was behind the main cottage in a separate enclosure, which she loved for it allowed her a small piece of the luxuries she had known in Cainnait. No servants, of course, to heat and carry water, but that was a small price and it made the luxury so much more when she would at last climb into the heated, scented water.

Having reached the garden, she set to work trimming overgrowth, pulling the undesirable plants, and harvesting some herbs for her tea later. Lined the stone path running between raised beds of herbs and vegetables. She had chosen ones that bloomed year round rather than only in the spring, and was grateful that as yet the seasonal frosts had not nipped at the blooms. At one point, she stood up to stretch and blinked at what she saw, or thought she saw. Far off in the distance, to the west, she caught a glimpse of something black moving against the early morning sky. Large, it had to be, for it was some distance and she could still see it somewhat clearly. It had to be a dragon, but she had never heard of a black one.

A second look confirmed what she had seen, for the creature had flown yet closer and seemed to be approaching the Shire of the East. It did fly closer, but seemed to be keeping a deliberate distance and following a distinct path along … the route of the caravan?? She was about to turn and run to inform Lord Michon the caravan might be in danger, when she stopped to look again at the creature that, she was now sure, paced the caravan from a distance. There was something familiar and eerie about this dragon, and she could not place what it was. She knew for certain, now, that it meant the caravan no harm. Why pace its route, then, if not to attack? Still, it was rare to hear of dragon attacks – they had become few in number, and kept to themselves for the most part, having been hunted to near extinction by the current Emperor in Cannait. An emperor she knew to be false, evil, and who would stop at nothing to guarantee his hold on the throne.

The creature abruptly turned, changing its course back toward the low lying hills to the west – hills as treacherous as the mountains to which they led, if one were not knowledgeable about such things. She wondered if its lair was in that area, for it swooped down and disappeared from sight behind a growth of trees nearby. Shaking her head, she went back to finishing her garden work.

“A black dragon,” she mused, “what next? I should convey this to Lord Michon, though, just to be on the safe side. My daughter’s safety is nothing to be trifled with, particularly now that she is with child.”

Convinced that Lord Michon would want to know, she turned back to the house. It was but a short distance to the rear entrance of the castle, where she was met by the outside guards.

“Greetings, Lady Phyla,” said one as she approached, “have you business in the castle this day?”

“Indeed,” she replied with a polite bow, “do announce me to Lord Michon. It concerns my daughter.”

The guard bowed, “At once, Lady Phyla, please follow me.”

Once inside the main entry, which was behind two enormous gates, the guard bade her sit on a bench and wait for him. He went directly to the left, toward Lord Michon’s audience chamber. The interior room in which she waited was impressive, lined with rich tapestries and wooden beams supporting massive stonework. The floor was a polished stone. A central stairway led to the chambers on the second floor and the east and west wings. From her vantage point, she could see the door under the stairs that she knew led to the dungeons. A door that remained bolted shut. Few knew of that terrible night, but Kellina had told her everything, the bond between mother and daughter being such that withholding anything was beyond comprehension. So it was that there was more than a little discomfort to the thought she had withheld the true purpose of the pendant she had bestowed on Kellina. Approaching footsteps pulled her from her thoughts and she rose.
Seeing Lord Michon with the guard, she curtsied politely, to which he gave a formal and deep bow.

“My Lady,” he said, taking her hand, “what is it that has brought you here?”

She looked hesitantly at the guard, to whom Michon turned and spoke, “You may return to your post.”

The guard bowed, “Yes, Sir. At once, Sir. Milady.”

Once they were alone, Lord Michon turned to her, “Come, let us be more comfortable. I shall order us some lunch and we can talk.”

“As it pleases you, my Lord,” she replied, allowing him to lead her to his private office. Once there, he pointed to the large chairs by the fire. She sat down gratefully, for her leg was beginning to pain her from all the walking she had done.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she said, “this is most wonderful.”

“What shall I order for our meal?” he asked, smiling and sitting opposite her in the adjacent chair.

She smiled back, “Can we have buttered toast with boiled cafoon eggs?”

“And tea,” he said.

“Of course.”

As if on cue, a servant girl entered with a tray set up for tea, “I thought this might please my Lord and his guest.”

Michon smiled and patted her bottom softly, “Excellent, Shelene, you are learning quickly. Just set it here on the table.”

She set it down smoothly and curtsied, waiting quietly to be dismissed. When it didn’t come, she went to her knees quietly and assumed a waiting posture with her head lowered and eyes fixed on the floor. He smiled and turned to Phyla, who was watching with rapt attention.

“This is my newest acquisition, lovely isn’t she?”

Phyla nodded, “Quite, my Lord. But then, you always have a good eye where such things are concerned.”

“You may go, Shelene,” he said, “Tell cook we’d like luncheon of buttered toast and boiled cafoon eggs with our tea. You may bring it when it’s ready.”

The girl rose and curtsied, “Yes, Sir, as it pleases You.”

When she had gone, Michon turned to Phyla who had been quietly pouring tea, “So milady, what is it that has brought you here? Can’t be your daughter, for we both saw her off this morning. She should reach Falfa by nightfall, a good little place to spend the night if I remember correctly.”

Phyla sipped her tea, “No my Lord, it’s not Kellina. It’s … something I saw later, from my garden as I was working.”

“And that was?” he asked, suddenly more attentive. He knew Phyla would not have come to the castle on something minor.

“A dragon. I saw a black dragon, and it seemed to be pacing the same route as the caravan.”

He looked perplexed, “You saw this? You’re sure it was a black dragon?”

“Yes, my Lord, I am old but by the gods there is naught wrong with my sight.”

“No, no … I didn’t mean that, milady. I was just making sure I had heard correctly.” He sipped his tea thoughtfully and was silent for a time.

Finally she could bear the silence no longer, “My Lord, what is it? What are you thinking?”

He smiled then, “My apologies, Lady. I meant no offense. Just a legend I’ve heard about the black dragon. There is only ever one of them, just as with the gold dragon. It is said the gold dragon, symbol of the one rightfully ruling our world, changes to black when the hand of power is passed on to the next emperor.”

Phyla’s mouth went dry as she tried to swallow. Now she knew what it meant, and why she knew the black dragon meant no harm to the caravan. Her husband lived! But blackening that joy was the knowledge that power had now passed to Kellina – had she signed her daughter’s death warrant by bestowing the pendant on her? Would the usurper know or be able to tell from the spires of Cannait? How far was his reach? How jealously would he guard his power? Michon moved to catch her as she slipped from her chair in a dead faint, dropping her tea as she went to the floor.