The Dragon's Arranged Mate(15)

Even Morgan noticed something amiss. "What bothers you all?" he asked. "Why are you all so silent?"

Finally, Dogal spoke up. "I think I can answer that question, my King,  Prince Morgan," he said, haltingly. I had never seen him anything less  than assured, to the point of pompousness.

"Please, do," I urged him.

"Sirs, the reason for our consternation lies in the familiarity of the  vision which you describe," Dogal began. "In fact, what the Prince  describes is nearly exactly what was first seen 10 years ago."

"Who saw it?" I asked, more confused than ever. "What happened as a  result?" 10 years … the dragon instinct in me knew without being told what  Dogal was leading to, somehow.

"Sire, your mother Rhiannon saw a vision in the flames which foretold  great doom. Your father thought nothing of it; your mother had been  known to see visions, as you well know, and many times they came to no  great danger or to anything at all."

Seamus spoke up. "We urged him to take the forewarning seriously, Sire,"  he assured me. "But the great dragon was … less than receptive." I knew  all too well what he meant; while my father was fair and wise, he didn't  like to be told what he should and shouldn't do. Of course this one of  my very worst traits as well.

Dogal nodded. "We did, tis true. He'd have none of it, your highness."

"What happened?" Morgan asked. I saw his hands closed into fists at his  sides; rarely did he show such emotion, even in this understated manner.

The men glanced at each other again, as if deciding who would be the one  to bear bad news. Finally, I'd had enough waiting and decided to answer  Morgan's question for them.

"He died, didn't he? Isn't that right? He died soon after my mother saw  this vision," I said. The heads around the table turned to me and  reluctantly nodded. Again their eyes were downcast.

"This doesn't mean that I will die as well," I pointed out. "My father  was headstrong, to be sure, and heedless. I know that I … share … some of  those qualities. But no man can say that I don't learn from the past. I  thank you for your honesty, and for your concern. Now that I'm aware of  the potential danger, I can be more careful of my actions."

"It's … not just that, your highness," Wynne finally spoke, his voice  heavy with gravity. "That vision wasn't simply a warning of the  possibility of things to come. It was an announcement of sorts. A  warning. A threat. It wasn't something that could happen; it was  something that will happen, if the dark power from which it comes has  its way."

"It's easy to look back, now, and apply such thinking to a vision that  came true," I said. "Besides, if my mother saw the same vision 10 years  ago and stands healthy and alive today, it proves that the vision did  not completely come to pass. Perhaps it's coincidence that my father met  his demise soon after."         

     



 

Again the men shook their heads, looking more distraught than ever.

"Your mother wasn't part of the original vision," Dogal explained, softly. "Only your father."

I held back the shudder that threatened to rip through me. Not Anabelle.

Wynne interjected. "And, forgive me, your highness. But you  misunderstand me. After your father's death it was made known that the  vision was a deliberate threat, and that what was threatened had come to  pass. It was dark magic, created by a very powerful and ancient dark  wizard."

Dogal leaned toward me and took the liberty of placing a concerned hand  upon my arm. "Caside, it was the wizard who killed you father. He sent  the vision, and he ensured that everyone in the kingdom knew that he was  responsible for the murder after Rogan's body was found."





CHAPTER SIX





My mind reeled from this news, and I shot a glance at my brother. His  skin had turned pale, his red hair in even starker contrast to his  whitened pallor. He looked at me, and I saw my shock and surprise  reflected in his eyes.

"A wizard? A dark wizard killed my father?" I asked. This was too much  to take in. I had never been told the real cause of my father's death,  only a series of stories and legends and half-truths. I now realized,  somewhere in the frantic throng of thoughts that collided against each  other in my brain, that those around me had sought to protect me from  the truth. I could tell from Morgan's reaction that he was just as  horrified as I was. We had both been lied to for many years.

"My King," Dogal said, not unkindly, "it is true. An ancient wizard by the name of Arthur hunted and killed your father."

"He's been killing dragons since before the recorded word, I've been  told," spoke Wynne, and I could hear the disgust in his voice. "Legend  always told of his rivalry with the Great One, Kellen, and how his  jealousy over Kellen's mating with Dubheasa caused him to fly into a  murderous rage. He vowed his vengeance against the dragons from that  time forward."

"It was Arthur who killed Kellen, or so they say," Dogal added. "Since  that time, many ages ago, he has been hunting dragons the world over and  doing everything in his power to cull their number. It is his great  mission to destroy the last of the dragons; the spell he cast upon  himself granted him immortality until the last of the dragons is  destroyed."

"We hadn't heard anything of him since the death of your father," Seamus  said, "and because of that we had hoped, somehow … that he would spare  you."

I stood, shaking with a mixture of fury and frustration. "You knew about  him … about what he had done to my father … and you decided that I didn't  need to be kept abreast of this? You kept this a secret from your King?"  I pounded my fist on the table. I raised it to strike again, but this  time Morgan caught it and held it still.

"Brother … " he said, quietly. "What they did was done in what they felt  was your best interest. Why would they have told you, a 17-year-old boy  who had just lost his father and was suddenly being made King in his  stead, about this ancient and terrible force? You had more than enough  to tend to at that time. And I'm sure it was enough for you to mourn our  Father without knowing that it was a dark force that had taken him  down. What if you had sworn revenge, or gone after Arthur? It was a  tactical decision these men made, and I stand behind them."

My fist fell, all energy drained from me. He was right, of course, as  he'd always been. My headstrong, grief-stricken 17-year-old self would  have made some foolish vow to vanquish my father's murderer. It's more  than likely had they not exercised such wisdom, I wouldn't be standing  at the head of the table at this moment.

"My councilors," I said, in a more calm and reasonable tone. "My brother  is, as always, possessed of a wisdom far greater than I will ever  possess. I understand why you made this decision, and I appreciate your  wisdom and your protection of me … and, by extension, the kingdom."

I sat back down, unsure where to go next. There was a dark wizard intent  on killing me, as he'd killed my father. This time, it appeared, he  also had his sights set on my Queen and mate. The dragon breathed fire  within me; I'd sooner use every force at my disposal to destroy this  evil being than to allow him to bring harm to Anabelle.

But what if there's nothing to be done? A fearful voice asked from  inside my mind. I had never heard this voice before, had never known  such fear before. Because I had never loved before as I loved Anabelle. I  had never needed to fear. Now, there was something I loved even more  than myself, more than my kingdom. How could I protect her against  something I couldn't begin to understand?         

     



 

I made a decision, and rose once again. "I want you men to take any  servants you can locate and have them go to the libraries with you. Make  it your one and only mission to find a way to destroy this black magic.  No one is immortal; any spell can be broken. It's just a matter of  finding out how. There must have been something recorded, somewhere, in  all of these ages that will give us the clue we need."

The men jumped to their feet; they were relieved, I could tell, to feel  as though they weren't completely powerless. Taking action heartened  them, and they left the chambers with purpose.

Morgan remained, still seated. I looked down at him. "We have to try," I said, softly.

He nodded, grim. "Yes … or it's the end of us both. Of us all," he answered, staring into the distance.



I returned to my mother's chambers, feeling decidedly less energetic  than I had when I first left. Anabelle and Rhiannon were seated by the  fire, deep in conversation. They had been served refreshments, and I  realized I was famished as I regarded the cold roasted meat and cheese  on the tray that sat before them.