The dowager lay prostrate on a couch, her maid weeping at her side and applying various restoratives—bathing the dowager’s temples in lavender water, dabbing tincture of rose on the dowager’s ample bosom, which was heaving and fluttering as she sought vainly to catch her breath.
“Oh … oh … oh!” she gasped, clutching her heart. The various wives of the guests hovered about her, wringing their hands, occasionally grasping each other with stifled sobs. Their fear was inspirational to their children, who had previously been mildly curious, but who were now wailing in concert and getting under everyone’s feet.
“Oh … oh … oh!” wheezed the dowager, turning slightly blue.
“Slap her,” suggested Aleatha coolly.
The maid seemed tempted, but the wives managed to emerge from their panic long enough to look shocked. Aleatha, shrugging, turned away and walked toward the tall windows that doubled as doors and opened out onto the spacious porch overlooking the lake. Behind her, the dowager’s spasms appeared to be easing. Perhaps she had heard Aleatha’s suggestion and seen the twitching hand of her maid.
“There’s been no sound in the last few minutes,” gasped an earl’s wife.
“Perhaps it’s over.”
An uneasy silence met the comment. It wasn’t over. Aleatha knew it and every woman in the room knew it. For the moment, it was quiet, but it was a heavy, horrible quiet that made Aleatha long for the dowager’s wailing. The women shrank together, the children whimpered.
The rumbling struck again. The house shook alarmingly. Chairs skittered across the floor, small ornaments fell off tables and crashed on impact. Those who could, hung onto something; those who couldn’t, stumbled and fell. From her vantage point at the window, Aleatha saw the green, scaly body rise up from the lake.
Fortunately, none of the women in the room behind her noticed the creature. Aleatha bit her lips to keep from crying out. Then it was gone—so swiftly that she wondered if she had seen something real or something bred of her fear. The rumbling ceased. The men were running toward the house, her brother in the lead. Aleatha flung open the doors and dashed down the broad staircase.
“Paithan! What was it?” She caught hold of the sleeve of his coat.
“A dragon, I’m afraid, Thea,” answered her brother.
“What will happen to us?”
Paithan considered. “We’ll ail die, I should imagine.”
“It’s not fair!” Aleatha raved, stamping her foot.
“No, I suppose not.” Paithan considered this a rather odd view of the desperate situation, but he patted his sister’s hand soothingly. “Look, Thea, you’re not going to go off like those others in there, are you? Hysteria’s not becoming.”
’ Aleatha put her hands to her cheeks, felt her skin flushed and hot. He’s right, she thought. I must look a fright. Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to relax, smoothed her hair, and rearranged the disheveled folds of her dress. The surging blood drained from her cheeks.
“What should we do?” she asked in a steady voice.
“We’re going to arm ourselves. Orn knows it’s hopeless, but at least we can hold the monster off for a short time.”
“What about the queen’s guards?”
Across the lake, the palace regiment could be seen turning out, the men dashing to their posts.
“They’re guarding Her Majesty, Thea. They can’t leave the palace. Here’s an idea, you take the other women and the children down to the cellar—”
“No! I won’t die like a rat in a hole!”
Paithan looked at his sister closely, measuring her courage. “Aleatha, there is something you can do. Someone has to go into the city and alert the army. We can’t spare any of the men, and none of the other women here are fit to travel. It’ll be dangerous. The fastest way is the carriage and if this beast gets past us—”
Aleatha envisioned clearly the dragon’s huge head rising up, thrashing about, snapping the cables that held the carriage high above the ground. She pictured the plummeting fall… .
She pictured herself locked up in a dark, stuffy cellar with the dowager.
“I’ll go.” Aleatha gathered up her skirts.
“Wait, Thea! Listen. Don’t try to go down into the city proper. You’d get lost. Make for the guard post on the var side. The carriages’ll take you partway and then you’ll have to walk, but you can see it from the first junction. It’s a lookout built in the branches of a karabeth tree. Tell them—”
“Paithan!” Lord Dumdrun came running out of the house, railbow and quiver in hand. He pointed. “Who the devil is that walking around down there by the lake? Didn’t we bring everyone up here with us?”
“I thought so.” Paithan stared, squinting. The sunlight off the water was blinding, it was difficult to see. Yet, sure enough, he could make out a figure moving about down by the water’s edge. “Hand me that railbow. I’ll go. We could have easily lost someone in the confusion.”
“Down … down there … with the dragon?” The lord stared at Paithan in amazement.
Much as he did everything else in his life, Paithan had volunteered without thinking. But before he could announce that he’d suddenly remembered a previous engagement, Lord Durndrun was pressing the bow in the young elf’s hands and murmuring something about a medal of valor. Posthumous, no doubt.
“Paithan!” Aleatha caught hold of him.
The elf took his sister’s hand in his, squeezed it, then transferred it to Lord Dumdrun’s. “Aleatha has offered to go and bring the Shadowguard[15] to our rescue.”
“Brave heart!” murmured Lord Durndrun, kissing the hand that was cold as ice.
“Brave soul.” He gazed at Aleatha in fervent admiration.
“Not braver than those of you staying behind, My Lord. I feel like I’m running away.” Aleatha drew a deep breath, gave her brother a cool glance. “Take care of yourself, Pait.”
“You, too, Thea.”
Arming himself, Paithan headed down toward the lake at a run. Aleatha watched him go, a horrible, smothering feeling in her breast—a feeling she had experienced once before, the night her mother died.
“Mistress Aleatha, let me escort you.” Lord Durndrun kept hold of her hand.
“No, My Lord. That’s nonsense!” Aleatha answered sharply. Her stomach twisted, bowels clenched. Why had Paithan gone? Why had he left her? She wanted only to escape from this horrid place. “You’re needed here.”
“Aleatha! You are so brave, so beautiful!” Lord Durndrun clasped her close, his arms around her waist, his Hps on her hand. “If, by some miracle, we escape this monster, I want you to marry me!”
Aleatha started, jolted from her fear. Lord Durndrun was one of the highest ranking elves at court, one of the wealthiest elves in Equilan. He had always been polite to her, but cool and withdrawn. Paithan had been kind enough to inform her that the lord thought her “too wild, her behavior improper.” Apparently, he had changed his mind.
“My Lord! Please, I must go!” Aleatha struggled, not very hard, to break the grip of the arm around her waist.
“I know. I will not stop your courageous act! Promise me you’ll be mine, if we survive.”
Aleatha ceased her struggles, shyly lowered the purple eyes. “These are dreadful circumstances, My Lord. We are not ourselves. Should we survive, I could not hold your lordship to such a promise. But”—she drew nearer him, whispering—“I do promise your lordship that I will listen if you want to ask the question again.”
Breaking free, Aleatha sank in a low courtesy, turned and ran swiftly, gracefully across the moss lawn toward the carriage house. She knew he was following her with his eyes.
15
The eleven army is divided into three branches, the Queen’s Guard, the Shadowguard, and the City Guard. The Shadowguard keep to the lower regions of the city and are presumably adept at dealing with the various monsters that dwell beneath the moss plains.