“Cockatrice,” Sir Ahglad spat. “These heathen cowards must be eliminated.”
The king nodded. “We will,” he said. “The prophecy guarantees it, but we have yet to find the key to their weak spots.”
The door opened. Two young, tall, brawny men were escorted in. One swarthy and dark, the other pale and blond. “Perhaps we can help,” the blond one said.
He stood. “Who are you?”
The two strangers shared a glance before the blond one spoke again. “We ask first, your Majesty, for future amnesty from unjust persecution for our kind.”
Several knights reached for their swords, but the king stayed them with a raised hand. “What is your kind?”
The dark one spoke. “Our people have also been slain by the cockatrice. Not just men, either. Women. Children. Innocent babes. Many of them used in the performance of dark and evil sorcery that is against everything our people believe in. All for the sake of wiping out resistance to their sinister forces so they can take over the land. Take over your holdings. To slay the Goddess Zaria and steal her powers.”
“I’m listening. State your piece.”
“We are dragons, your Majesty. Shape-shifters. The cockatrice have taken up arms against all shifter races who have tried to peaceably coexist with humans for eons. Wolves. Felines. Bears. Selkies. All have fallen before the cockatrice. They are saving humans for last to enslave you.”
An uproar circled the room at this revelation. The blond one held up his hand. “Baba Yaga came to our flagyer’s Seer and told her of the Goddess Zaria and her Watcher when they were born. We were told Baba Yaga can verify what we say is truth. That your prophecy as well as our own bears us out.”
The room went silent and still, all eyes now on the king.
Finally, he slowly nodded. “Before we bring Zaria here, I will know your names. And you will swear allegiance to me.”
Both men, in movement faster than anyone could follow, dropped to one knee, offering their swords hilt first to the king with upraised hands and bowed heads.
The blond one said, “I am Stribog. I hereby pledge allegiance to the death to King Elsleng.”
The dark one followed. “I am Svarog. I hereby pledge allegiance to the death to King Elsleng.”
Stunned, the king took Stribog’s sword and touched the tip to one shoulder, then the other. “I hereby accept your allegiance and decree you to be a knight of my kingdom.” He repeated it with Svarog. “Now stand, both of you. I wish to see proof of your claims of being dragons.”
The men shared a glance. They quickly disrobed and, with a shocked gasp from the other knights, they shifted into dragons before them. Stribog turned into a beautiful bluish-green dragon with a long neck and tail. He lowered his head to the floor, at the king’s feet.
The king smiled, then laughed. Svarog, now a reddish-orange dragon of stouter build, followed suit. “I see what I see.” He looked at his other knights. “Do my eyes deceive me?”
Stunned, the other knights slowly shook their heads.
“Return to us, my two newest knights!”
The dragons shifted back into their human forms and began dressing.
“So now,” the king said, “the question is, do the rest of your kind, and other shifters, pledge allegiance to me as well?”
“We can speak for the dragons when we say yes. We do not speak for other shifters, but it is our understanding that they wish no humans harm. They only wish to live their lives in peace. They will ally with humans and other shifters against the cockatrice threat. There are more on the way, and they can speak for themselves when they arrive.”
“Very good then. I hereby decree that from this day forward, unless proven to have committed a crime, no shifter except a cockatrice shall be molested by humans. They shall be allowed to live in peace as long as they are living peaceably.”
The knights nodded.
Zachary and Zaria were quietly talking in their chamber when her maid knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Zaria called.
The woman walked in, her head bowed. “Beg your pardon, but your father wishes you both to join him in the large drawing room.”
The two exchanged a glance. “Both of us?” Zachary clarified.
“Yes, sir.”
A chill settled over his soul. “We will be right there,” he said.
The maid curtsied, then left them.
Zaria looked frightened. He hated that. He wanted her to feel nothing but joy and love in her life.
He also hated that he felt frightened. Tales of more massacres had filtered to them through the servants’ whispered discussions in the scullery and back corridors. How much truth could be found in the stories had yet to be determined.
He grasped her hands in his and squeezed, raising them to his lips to kiss them. “My sweet, beautiful Goddess. I love you.”
She smiled. Their usual ritual, even though they both knew their love would never take flesh in this life. “I love you, too, Zachary. I always will.”
He nodded. “In every life.”
“In every heart.”
“Forever,” they whispered together.
He helped her stand. “Come. We cannot keep the king waiting.” Arm in arm, they headed out the door to whatever fate awaited.
She’d never seen so many of her father’s knights gathered in one place before. Not even at the annual games.
That they all bore identically grim expressions didn’t bode well.
She squeezed Zachary’s hand more tightly. “Father? You summoned us?”
He nodded and walked over to them, standing behind them, his hand on each of their shoulders. “We are suffering from dire times, my child. Many of the prophecies are finally coming to fruition. There is evil advancing across our lands.” He lifted his hand from her shoulder and motioned two strangers over.
She stared, entranced by the handsome men. One, with blue eyes, blond hair, and a fair expression. The other, exact in build, but with swarthy skin, amber eyes, and brown hair. Her heart fluttered at the sight of them. She’d never seen men so handsome before.
The two men dropped to one knee before her and bowed their heads. “The Goddess, Zaria,” they said together.
With a speed she never knew he possessed, Zachary drew the sword from the scabbard of the knight closest to them and stepped between her and the two strangers, with the point of the sword at the throat of the fair one. He also seemed to have grown nearly a foot in height.
“You get no further,” his voice boomed, “unless you prove to me you are the ones.”
Neither stranger moved, but the fair one spoke. “We follow our prophecy, Watcher.”
“Do you promise to protect her?”
The darker one spoke without looking up. “With our lives. We swear it.”
“Then say it. Speak the words of the prophecy.” He pulled the tip of the sword back so both men could look up at her.
Her heart melted. With a set of blue eyes and a set of amber eyes both impaling her soul, the men spoke in unison.
“Forever in our hearts, eternity in our soul, our one and true we shall cherish and love and defend. Everything we have and are, is yours. But this we swear, our love will never waver, and we will protect you forever and forever, with our lives, we swear to you we will.”
She suddenly felt faint, swooning. Somehow, without losing his sword, Zachary caught her with one arm and kept the strangers away from her.
With her arms draped around his neck, she met his gaze, which suddenly appeared very, very sad. “What happened?” she whispered. “Who are these men?”
He handed the sword off to her father and caressed her cheek. “The prophecy must be followed.” He kissed her forehead. “In every life.”