The Dragon Swordmaster - 8

The Marriage Conversation

While the servants brought the feast to the table, King Edgar introduced the guests, starting with the most recent arrivals. "Our friends from Alfgard, Lord Greydawn and Lady Nerina,” he raised his goblet, “to their health."

"To their health," a chorus replied.

Lord Greydawn stood. "We are truly blessed by this day. I have come not merely for the naming feast, but to offer the hand of my daughter to Cedric that they may bear a blood treaty between us." At the same time, a servant leaned over Cynara's shoulder to place a silver platter on the table. She smiled as she slowly rotated the head of the roasted boar to face Lady Nerina. Surrounding the head were cooked quail chicks still in their shell. Cynara grabbed two of them, though all of them were likely meant for her consumption.

Cedric turned to Nerina and smiled, "Perhaps we can discuss this further after dinner." Nerina smiled back and nodded.

"Our friend from Arboria within the Great Forest, Sir Linden Arbor, to his health." Another chorus followed, while the serving staff placed bowls of ripe red pears on the table.

Sir Linden stood. "The Kingdom of Arboria pledges its continued support for the House of Gwillam. We will stand for its defense should such a need arise."

"From the Dark Kingdom of the Mages, Lord Onyx Black, to his health." Again, the chorus of voices replied. The servants placed platters of boar meat on the table.

Lord Black remained seated. "There are dark portents ahead, but the Dark Kingdom will continue to strengthen its alliances." He stuck his fork into a thick slab of roast boar and hoisted it onto his plate.

"And last, though not least," the younger son rose smiling at his companion, "we are honored by the presence of a swordmaster from the Eastern Empire, the Lady Cynara."

The revelation so startled Lady Nerina that she poured ale down the front of her frock. Lord Black laughed and winked at Cynara. Cynara rose and lifted her chalice. "Milord, the Eastern Empire pledges fealty to the House of Gwillam and the Principality of Weston for as long as both shall stand."

"Is it true," Sir Linden inquired, "that a swordmaster is never without their sword? If so, I would imagine you to be quite uncomfortable without it."

"We are versed in many forms of combat. Though our swords are never far away should we have need of them." Cynara cracked open an egg and began to peel away the shell.

"It must be hard for you," Lady Nerina spoke as she continued to wring the ale from her frock, "living among those vile creatures. Aren't you afraid of being eaten?"

"I can assure you; I am in no danger among my own kind," Cynara popped the entire chick into her mouth and swallowed. "Does your father have your approval to offer you in marriage? Among the drakon, it would be an offense."

"Although Nerina has a mind of her own, she is most obedient. She would make a good wife. I have raised her well in these matters," Lord Greydawn replied.

Annwyl Gwillam turned to Greydawn, "You speak in contradictions Lord Greydawn. No woman is obedient who has a mind of her own. My beloved Edgar can attest to that."

“As can I,” Gilian whispered to Cynara.

"Tell me, what do the elves hope to gain from such a union?" King Edgar asked. "I have no need of a grandchild as yet. When the time comes, we will invite the eligible females to court. My wife was a stable maid, but she charmed me nonetheless."

 "As I stated earlier, to stiffen the bond between our two kingdoms," Greydawn replied. "A noble cause, is it not?"

"To marry into the lineage, then?" Gilian responded. "I can assure you that it will not gain you the kingdom. It is only with the approval of our people and myself that my father named my brother as successor. Cedric has prepared for this and I will defend his right to rule as I defend our father's. As far as marriage alliances go, we accept them only if the other kingdom involved will honor them."

"My son speaks the truth of the law," Annwyl smiled, "but he leaves out his own betrothal."

"Mother, this is not the time..."

"Nonsense, Gilian! It is exactly the time. When your bride arrived early this morning, you did not recognize her beneath her cloak. Yet you knew her immediately when she fell before you. Both of you are obviously hiding something. If not your betrothal, what then?"

Cynara looked at Gilian. "We should tell them." Gilian shook his head. "They have to be told sooner or later." Again, Gilian shook his head. "We're married," she announced.

"This should have been done in private," Gilian admonished, "not in front of strangers over dinner. I apologize, Father, Mother, for this breach of protocol."

"And yet, you chose to marry in secret," Edgar replied. "I'm disappointed that you thought we would not approve."

"To be honest, we were more worried about her father's approval. He insisted we marry immediately in his presence. I could not refuse such an honor."

"True, it would have been an offense to have refused," Lord Black replied. "But I'm afraid that Greydawn may well have offended Arboria. After all, he travelled here to meet his betrothed, not to hear her pledged to another. Is that not so, Sir Linden?"

The Dragon Swordmaster - 7

The Small Scroll

Gilian escorted Cynara to a private parlor not far from the banquet hall. The preparations for the evening feast - the clinking of glassware, the clatter of plates hitting the table, and the mumblings of the servants – echoed through the main hall. Inside the parlor, the conversation was of a more serious nature. 

"I heard you say something about a message. Was it for my father or his kingdom?"

Cynara pulled a small scroll from a pocket hidden inside her frock and handed it to Gilian. "Can you read the script of elves?" she asked while still holding on to one end of the scroll. "If not, I can translate it for you."

"I'm well versed in the scripts of many races," he stated, "even the runes of dragons."

Gilian unrolled the scroll. After a brief perusal, he asked, "Where did you get this?"

"Off some elves who sought to prevent my arrival. I fought them to their end on the way here."

"That explains your exhaustion," he tucked the scroll into his vest. "We had been experiencing problems for months now, but we did not know the source."

"The elves are not expecting us to come to your defense. We have been watching them as they made their preparations. If you have no need of our troops, they will be withdrawn."

Inside the banquet hall, King Edgar was busy greeting the late arrivals. At the table, his sons sat by his side while his wife, Queen Annwyl, sat at the opposite end. Cynara sat between Gilian and Lord Black. Nerina sat between Cedric and Sir Linden Arbor.

King Edgar rose. "We are gathered here for a solemn moment. As the law dictates, and before our esteemed representatives, I..."

"I'm afraid we are short of the necessary quorum of kingdoms," Greydawn interrupted. "The Eastern Empire is not to be seen."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken. The Dark Kingdom has sent Lord Black to fulfill the quorum," King Edgar corrected. "Now, as I was saying, I hereby name my elder son, Cedric Gwillam, as my heir and successor. Should we both face an untimely demise, I entrust Gilian to fulfill those duties and obligations." King Edgar raised his goblet of dark ale. After his guests had raised theirs, he toasted, "to the future!"

“To the future,” his guests chorused in reply.

The Dragon Swordmaster - 6

The Eastern Scourge

Iron helmets glistening in the early morning sun, a thousand troops marched westward from the Eastern Empire. They held their weapons high above their heads as they crossed the River Tarragon. Fish struggled against the strong current in an effort to escape the crossing horde. Ahead of them lay the hills of Weston. It would be near nightfall when they would breach the woods that bordered the castle lands.

The chainmail over their leather tunics clinked as the swordmasters marched up the slope. Their buckled broadswords, whose scabbards bore the Imperial crest, slapped their sides with a steady beat. Behind the swordmasters, several rows of archers carried full quivers of one hundred arrows each. They would remain ready within the woods until called for.

An envoy travelled ahead with a missive from the Lord of Weston Manor. As she entered the wood, she was set upon by assassins. The first drew a knife attempting to stab her, but she quickly disarmed him. A second sought to slay her with a crossbow. She swatted the missile out of the air with her sword, only to be set upon again by the knife-wielder. She met his second run with the edge of her sword. Taking his blade, she took careful aim at the sniper in the trees. After dodging a second bolt, she launched the knife, felling him.

Attempting to move forward, she faced two swordsmen. She skillfully dodged each thrust and met each parry in a match that lasted for the better part of an hour. The first opponent went down after a skillful slice to his throat. The second opponent, she ran her sword through his heart. She arrived at the castle at the midday hour.

The Dragon Swordmaster - 5

The Late Arrival

While final preparations for the banquet were underway, a carriage arrived at the castle entrance. Two guards dismounted from the back of the carriage, each opening the carriage door to allow the passengers to egress. An elderly gentlemen dressed in finery stepped out, assisted by the guard. Both men circled the back of the carriage until they were at the base of the steps to await the remaining passenger. A raven-haired female stepped out. She smiled at the guards and took the old man's arm while they walked up the seven steps.

Cedric, having glanced out a window, recognized the banner of the southern kingdom of Alfgard. With great haste, he made his way to the front hall and was there to greet the Lord and Lady when they entered. "Welcome to Weston. I was worried that you did not receive my father's invitation. We did not receive a messenger," Cedric tried not to stare into the Lady's bright green eyes while he spoke to the pair.

"We did not send a messenger. Your invitation did not reach us until this morning when a hunting party discovered it on a corpse along the riverbank. It is not our custom to refuse an invitation where food is involved," the young woman replied.

"Hush, Nerina," the old man protested. "I'll not have our hosts think so little of us by implying we are only interested in their food."

"Of course, Greydawn. How unmannerly of me."

The old man turned to Cedric. "Do you know who we are?"

"I'm afraid not. My father did not make me privy to the list of invitees."

"Then allow me. I am Greydawn, a member of the Alfgard High Council. My companion is Nerina, my eldest daughter." Greydawn patted at his coat for several minutes before retrieving a blood-stained parchment. "My apologies for its condition." Cedric unscrolled the missive addressed to Councilor Greydawn to confirm their story. Cedric made a mental note to bring this tale to the attention of Gilian at the first opportunity.