Rhiana. Michele Hauf

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СКАЧАТЬ did not always agree with his politics. “She could…harm herself.”

      “She is quite skilled, as proof is evident, my lord.”

      Narcisse coached the tic tugging at the corner of his mouth to remain still. If there was another dragon, it could be his only chance for a continued supply. Small hope. But one, it seemed, he would be forced to cling to.

      “Oh!”

      All eyes looked up to the castle door. Looking frail in winter-white damask, Anne stood, her dark hair spilling down to her waist. The rain did not reach her beneath the arch of the doorway. Hands pressed to her mouth, wide eyes screamed what her voice could not manage.

      “Bring her inside!” Narcisse ordered.

      One of his knights responded, rushing up the steps, clinking mail and sword sheath punctuating his urgency.

      “It is dead!” Anne shouted. “But you cannot— Oh!”

      Her body wilted to a faint. The knight landed the top stair. He lunged to capture her about the waist before her head hit stone. “I have her, my lord!”

      “Careful, Gerard. Watch her head. Bring her to the solar.”

      Regret twanged at Narcisse profoundly.

      He knew Anne’s affinity for the dragons. She, well…she related to them in a manner he could not fathom. Every evening at matins she said prayers for them, and then received a blessing of holy water. Without her blessing she could not sleep, and would roam beside the bed—for the chain kept her close—until the morning hours found her literally slumped on the cold stone floor. She pined to go to the caves. Always she spoke of the nest below her bed—for the caves wended about beneath St. Rénan. But there were no nests below. Narcisse knew not even a small dragon could permeate the narrow caves, but Anne refused to believe.

      She should not have witnessed this spectacle. It was all the Tassot wench’s fault.

      Bending and pressing both hands to the dragon’s tumescent belly, Narcisse gave orders. “Drag it to the kitchen entrance. We shall feast heartily for days. Preserve the skull, the talons and the scales.”

      “Very good, my lord.” Champrey signaled to his men to man the ropes tied about the dragon’s legs and head. “As for the slayer? Do you wish to have a word with her?”

      Straightening, and for the first time noticing his hair was wet for the fallen hood, Narcisse sneezed. Wretched rain. “Can she be brought to me posthaste?”

      “Yes, my lord.”

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      Rhiana ran home and quickly changed to braies and a plain woolen tunic and boots. She strapped her talon dagger at her hip and then returned to the armory to don the scaled armor.

      The sky darkened early this eve, for she tasted rain in the air. She left St. Rénan through the door guarded by Rudolph while the knights inside the castle ate the evening meal and, at the same time, groped a voluptuous wench.

      It took but half an hour, her strides sure and swift, to broach the top of the mountain that capped the caves. Four megaliths marked the grounds as if a king’s crown. Keeping to the purlieu of the forest, she marked a spot beneath a massive twisting beech tree. Sending her companion to flight with a nod, she watched as the pisky flitted toward the cave opening. Sitting, she then propped her crossbow over her wrist, she closed her eyes to listen. For a heartbeat.

      For challenge.

      There, within the depths, beneath the earth and stone and centuries of vegetation fluttered the heartbeat. Heartbeats. Focusing, she picked out more than one, for each one was unique as a name or color.

      Seven. That is how many heartbeats she counted. But she could not be sure, for some dragons might have burrowed deep into the labyrinth of caves below her resting place.

      Mon Dieu. So many?

      Did her senses play tricks with her? Was it just the one final dragon, and she interpreted it as so many additional beasts?

      Again Rhiana closed her eyes. Breathing slowly, releasing each exhale on a lingering sigh, she quieted her core, which opened her to receive the sounds of life all around. Birds and squirrels, even a fox close by, were easily ignored for their rapid pulses registered as a high, agitated tone as they all sought shelter from the sprinkling rain.

      ’Twas a low bass pulse that fixed in her veins and matched her own heartbeat—that was the dragon. One, just below, and two to her left. Many more behind, some sleeping, others moving about. They were there, below her.

      The villagers will be horrified to learn this. That their nightmare was far from over? But she must not keep it secret. Knowledge was power, and she would never keep them in the dark when all must know vigilance must be increased.

      But why so many? All females? And with the dwindling hoard? Was it a doom, traveling in seek of a permanent home and nesting place? They could not have it here! She would not allow it.

      But what could one woman do against so many?

      A fine mist pelted the long spring grass spiking up at forest edge. Nestled at the base of the beech tree, Rhiana was protected from most of the rain by the canopy of thick glossy leaves. She didn’t mind getting wet. Enjoyed it actually, for the raindrops slipped over the scales on her armor and made it glisten.

      It was the sound of raindrops plinking upon the leaves and ground that interfered with her concentration.

      Content to wait out the weather, for she knew the dragons would not fly this night, Rhiana settled against the smooth trunk, wrapping her wool cloak about her shoulders and the armored tunic.

      The pisky she had sent to reconnaissance the caves shimmered through the raindrops, its wings iridescent even in the nighttime, though the heavy droplets hampered its flight. The creatures were as common as butterflies but usually avoided human contact. Thanks to Anne, Rhiana had learned to communicate with them and win, if not their trust, at least their curiosity. Of course, a bribe was never sneered at.

      Landing her shoulders, the violet pisky sat for a moment. Its tiny huffs were audible as beats inside Rhiana’s head. Patiently, she waited. And in thanks she pulled the small lambskin of fresh cream from her hip pouch and opened it before the pisky.

      Fluttering to the edge of the lambskin the pisky drank heartily. After its repast, it flew up to Rhiana’s head and sat upon the crown, belly nestled into her thick tresses and arms dangling over her forehead. It began to tap upon her brow, and Rhiana counted.

      “Nine?”

      So there were two she had missed. Perhaps they slept more deeply, had chosen to hibernate. Or had they come to build a nest? Mayhap the two were males? Or they were maximas. The elder dragons infrequently took to the sky, choosing to nest upon the hoard and store up their energy. Their heartbeats became very sluggish. Rhiana had never opportunity to mark a maxima.

      It was the young rampants, vigorous and voracious that flew the skies, reveling in their energy and seeking the kill in small field animals. They did not require the safety and rejuvenation of the hoard so often as the maximas.

      For it was the actual hoard, piles and piles СКАЧАТЬ