27. Drakonis
27
DRAKONIS
T ension permeated the air. He felt suffocated, the muscles in his body screaming at every movement. The sun was not bright enough and the wind seemed stale.
Three days. It had been three days since he had seen or spoke to Clara. His dragon still had not awakened, and the Pythia’s presence seemed to grow by the day. His instincts ate at him.
Was Clara mad at him? Did she replay their intimate encounter as much as he? Did Nero take her away or was she still in Ouroboros?
The Pythia had remained, so surely Clara was still here. Her holy soldiers certainly hovered near her room. And many had mingled with Kazimir’s personal guards.
“Something bothering you Drakonis?” Kazimir said. He leaned back in his chair, a finger running over his lips. His condescending smile was different.
“Why would that matter to you?”
He had been forced in a meeting. Just looking at his brother made his blood boil. He still had no answers about what he talked to Clara about during the dance.
Did Kazimir have a part in why he hadn’t seen Clara these days? His smugness had returned, and his arrogance ate at his nerves.
“You seem a little…tense,” Kazimir said.
“Tense would be right. After all, I must make sure that your disrespectful effigy burnings in the town doesn’t reach the most powerful King on Ipeiros,” Drakonis snapped.
“What a treasonous thing to say. Our father would be the most powerful…”
“While father is strong, he did not fight King Nordskov. Not one warrior or royal has defeated him.”
“I did not fight that gargoyle, but I did his father.” Konstantin pushed through the double doors, waving off the servants. The emperor and his sons were now the only ones in the room. The grand table felt long and empty. “But I do recognize that that boy is more powerful than Ulrick ever hoped to be.”
When Ragnar fought on the battlefield, he was the living embodiment of Aries, and instilled great loyalty among his soldiers. He moved his pawns in perfect formation without a single protest. The only one that could come close to Ragnar’s strength would be Nero, but that man was like torture personified. Enemies would rather take their own lives then be left with him.
“Father we must appease King Nordskov. If he finds out that effigies in his, and his queen’s, image were burned publicly he will see that as a taunt.”
“Let your pretty little Oracle tell them,” Kazimir answered. Konstantin took his place at the head of the table. “If they do attack then it will just show how barbaric those gargoyles really are.”
“I understand wanting to show our strength, but antagonizing King Nordskov is not the way to do it!” Drakonis said, slamming his fist into the table. “Do you understand what it would mean? We would be attacked on three fronts, and that is if the King of Oceanus does not sink us first!”
Lada, the Kingdom of the West, was led by Nero’s younger brother and Herrlof led by Ragnar. Clara could slow them down but, if the insult was grave enough, then even she could not save the dragons.
“Our people support going to war,” Kazimir said.
“Outside the palace, our people are too busy trying to stay alive in the streets to care about what gargoyles think of them,” Drakonis countered.
“Loukas has surveyed the nobles and Valen has determined we have plenty in the coffers.” Kazimir said, waving his hand. His jewelry clinked at the movement.
“You get advice from our Ministers of Rites and Revenue for an issue such as this? Have you even spoke to Earl Vladislav about defenses? He is our Minister of War? How about Duke Komnenos who deals with all our foreign relations?”
“Drakonis,” Konstantin said.
“Father you cannot agree to this!” Drakonis dismissed his brother, looking at his father. The opal scales in his skin were raised and glimmering like the moon itself. His father was not stupid, only weak. A hypocritical emperor who spoke of strength and superiority but fell under too much pressure from nobility. Nobility that knew nothing of war and its true consequences. “I understand we want to show our power to the world, but unnecessary war is not the way to do it.”
“Father, the nonsense he spews is because of the woman,” Kazimir said.
A burning flame filled Drakonis’s body. Normally, he was composed when his brother irked him but, at the mere mention of Clara, he wanted to rip the man’s head from his body. His disgusting lips did not deserve to even speak her name. “You who have never seen the battlefield will never understand.”
Kazimir narrowed his eyes at his brother, his lips a flat line, and his scales and eyes glowing dark.
His brother was so determined to show strength, yet he did not understand the costs of the strength. Repeating nightmares of bodies being torn apart, brethren getting killed in front of their eyes: brethren you were just drinking and singing with on the cold nights at camp. A stench of death as bodies were either cremated or buried according to custom following you even off the battlefield. And as a ruler you always had to act like it never bothered you, but it would always come back in nightmares. A peacock noble like his brother would never understand.
“Father,” Drakonis pushed the memories from his mind. “You know the cost of war. We show nothing but hypocrisy if we attack the gargoyles, just for who they are. There is no diplomatic or fiscal reason we should be doing this.”
“Beautiful speech Drakonis, but it’s utopian. We must establish our dominance now to avoid future bloodshed, for none will challenge us after we defeat King Nordskov,” Kazimir countered.
“And will you be leading the soldiers?” Drakonis asked. Kazimir’s eyes wavered. He didn’t respond.
“Drakonis, I understand what you are trying to say but this is a critical time.” Konstantin said. “The awakening of Phaedrus’s Heir will be a new dawning for us.”
“You believed the Heir to be nothing but myth,” Drakonis retorted.
Drakonis felt Konstantin studying him. His father was an intelligent man. Drakonis was sure that he noticed the white in his hair and the change in him after going to Zillah.
“The ancestors chose Kazimir so I cannot disregard what he says.” Kazimir straightened in his chair with a smirk. “You are our most capable general, and I believe you were given a different purpose.” Konstantin’s words brought dread. “The Pythia has said the Heir has been found. Your oracle has told her as such. Come tomorrow he will be awakened.”
Clara told the Pythia he was the Heir? It was not possible. Clara left Ouroboros the night of the ball.
“That is impossible,” Drakonis said.
“She has seduced you brother,” Kazimir said. “I know her charms well. I realized why you were so entranced by her when she came to my room alone.”
Drakonis’s heart stilled. Clara had gone to Kazimir’s room? Without him? Without telling him? She wouldn’t. But he remembered the way they had danced together. Kazimir had looked at her with a face he had never seen, and Clara was as stoic and serious as normal. Even if she had gone to him, it wasn’t for what Kazimir was insinuating. But even knowing that his fingers twitched, imagining the satisfaction of ripping his brother from limb to limb.
“The Pythia is with your Oracle now. They are preparing for a ceremony which will happen tomorrow,” Konstantin interrupted. “Once this is completed her job here is done. There will be no more of her manipulations.”
Clara was still here? She didn’t leave.
Relief eased his mind. But now he had to what he vowed to Clara. He had to show her that he could protect her, and that it was possible to keep her at his side.
He would not allow her family to be harmed, nor would he put her in the middle of a war. It would destroy her to choose sides. Now that she was his beloved there was no way he could even fight a war whole heartedly.
“She has never manipulated us father. She only has the best intentions,” Drakonis said.
“My son. You have spent much time with her. Time and her actions for Gavril has surely left a mark on you. For a human she is tolerable, but she is still human. She is below our station, even below our noblewomen.”
“She is a princess of the skies and seas.” She was a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit, but brought out the best in him, thus his people. His father’s words mirrored Clara’s, and even his own thoughts in the beginning. Clara had shown more respect, and reverence, for their own culture than those that had lived in Ouroboros their whole existence.
His father looked as stoic as Clara normally did, but he noticed a slight softness in his eyes.
“Once everything is done, for her deeds I can make an exception and let her remain here, but to you she will be only a concubine. It is only because she is a princess, and her work for our people that I can allow this,” Konstantin said.
Clara was his other half. Even if his father allowed her to be his bedmate, he would have no other. She was the only one that made his heart sing. She was his mate. His fated one.
“Father I will not let this go. Clara and I saw things in the Ruins. The histories we were told are not the true story.”
Konstantin raised his hand. “We are never to doubt the ancestors. That is something I have instilled into both of since your birth.”
“But what if the ancestors were wrong? Father, we must look deeper. We never rejected the gods fully. And I saw the Drakaina…”
“The Drakaina are nothing but a myth,” Kazimir interrupted. His knuckles whitened. “Women are not meant for war. They would crumble before a man.”
Drakonis narrowed his eyes. “I know what I saw. And what I saw was Phaedrus killing and torturing our women who wished to fight for dragon kind.”
“He merely upheld the roles. A woman’s duty is to bear heirs,” Kazimir said.
Drakonis balled his fists. His eyes moved to Konstantin. “And mother? Do you, father, truly believe that is all she is worth? To bear me and Kazimir and be nothing but a trophy?”
His father’s lips thinned. His mother was witty and perceptive. She was able to determine one’s character. And it was well known, to him at least, that his mother was the one who helped him with domestic and foreign policies when Gavril was unavailable. She was the one who reinforced his studies from Gavril. Kazimir would have known if he had not dismissed their mother. “Even if mother is not a warrior, she would pick up a weapon for her family. You should know that above all,” Drakonis challenged. “Especially when our men find their mates, women give them the strength and drive to win and fight.”
“You speak as if you have found yours,” Konstantin said.
Drakonis didn’t answer verbally. Until Clara accepted him, he could not. But down to his bones, he knew. He felt the pull, the desire, and the power that grew in him. There was not a moment that did not think of her; did not think of her touch or voice. Lately, he only wanted to sleep so he could have her in his dreams.
Konstantin’s back straightened, his eyes slightly wider.
“We will hear the Lady Oracle’s vision tomorrow, per the Pythia. You both have shown me strengths and weaknesses. By the next new moon, I will make my decision on who my successor will be.”
“Father, I wish to see Clara,” Drakonis said as his father stood. If she was still here, then that meant it was not too late.
“Do you wish to see the woman to skew her vision?” Kazimir sneered. “The court will take your favoritism the wrong way.”
“Kazimir is right Drakonis. I cannot allow it,” Konstantin replied.
“Clara does not work for the Pythia. She merely used her name to gain entrance in our kingdom.” Foreboding ate at him. At first, his insecurity made him feel as if she was avoiding him because of his confession, but she couldn’t lie. She had to be here against her will. He needed to hear it from her if she needed to be saved.
He may have sounded foolish but, she did not reject his confession. She had never said that she didn’t love him back. Only that they shouldn’t be. “At least let me check on her. You may give me a guard as witness if you wish.”
“I’m sorry Drakonis,” Konstantin said. “You both are dismissed. I have duties to attend to. And you two must prepare for tomorrow.”
The clinking of the closing door was louder than any explosion. His heart was racing, his hands flexing. Something was happening that was not supposed to be. His father told him everything, relied on him for many decisions.
“You must have drunk a lot of mead before entering the ruins.” Kazimir smirked. His golden jewelry clinked as he stood. Drakonis’s breathing became ragged. Kazimir was using Clara. He was the one keeping him from his mate. “Are you sure it is your worry that drives you to see her or your lust? She is quite lovely and… voluptuous.”
His mind clicked. His dark world filled with fire. Drakonis roared, flipping the large table on its side. His hands expanded into scaly claws, glowing a mixture of dark purple and light blue scales. Wings ripped from his back. The same unfamiliar power flowed through his body. In a breath, he had Kazimir by the throat, raising him in the air against a statue. Kazimir scratched at Drakonis’s hand, his face becoming blue.
Large, sharp, teeth pulled into a wicked smile as Drakonis spoke.
“You forget yourself, brother, ” Drakonis growled. “Undermine me in front of father and continue to play the nobles against me. I am used to that, and it will be my pleasure to see you fall to your delusions in front of the whole nation. But let me find one mark on Clara…”
Kazimir’s skin became scaly. Drakonis only laughed. His brother was a weakling who depended only on others to fight his battles. Drakonis had lived in a river of bodies and blood. He walked through fires and had seen things that would make Kazimir run. With another squeeze, veins in Kazimir’s face bulged.
“You play with fire Kazimir. Clara is my charge and my beloved. For every mark that is on her body I will do the same to you.”
“Y-you c-can do n-no such thing,” Kazimir choked.
“The way your voice trembles excites me,” Drakonis answered. Flames circled around his teeth causing smoke to appear out of the side of his mouth. “Our laws outline the consequences of harming a dragon’s mate and for harming one representing another nation. You will have committed both and I will see that, not even your status, will save you as I rip you limb from limb.”
“Drakonis!”
A series of pounding boots entered the meeting room. Alastair held off the guards waiting for Drakonis next command or action.
“Remember my warning,” Drakonis said, moving his face closer to Kazimir’s. “If you do not then what you saw me do to that Lindworm in the wood will look like mercy.”
With a flick of his wrist, Drakonis threw Kazimir across the room. With his collapse, a painting fell to the floor and chairs were scattered about. Kazimir’s glare was wicked, but it was satisfying to him catch his breath, holding his throat.
“You will regret this,” Kazimir gasped. “Once that bitch is useless, I will have her defiled and killed in front of you.”
Drakonis raised his hand, white fire balls formed. They turned to blades rushing towards Kazimir. At the last minute, Kazimir raised his own orange flamed barrier. He stopped most but one cut across his cheek, lower left of his torso, and his thighs.
“You have declared war upon me brother. Wish upon all the gods that my princess is not harmed, otherwise your fate will be in the Underworld.”
Soldiers parted as Drakonis exited. Kazimir’s roar but he ignored it, ordering all soldiers to depart. There was naught a look of pity on any of their faces. All soldiers belonged to Drakonis and, if need be, he would command them to slaughter his brother and every noble that stood against him. He cared not which brother Konstantin chose as the crown prince.
“I must say tha was quite entertainin’” Alastair said walking in step with him.
“Clara is still in Ouroboros,” Drakonis said.
“But you said Nero returned her to Herrlof.”
“Find her. Something tells me she is not still here by her will.”
“I will do as commanded.” After a pause, Alastair continued. “You do know that Kazimir will not forgive this humiliation.”
“I care not for his revenge. Let him come at me with all the politics in the world. His strength is that of a child’s.”
“So, the gloves are coming off?” Alastair’s eyes glowed as they always did before battle.
“If my mate is harmed, I will kill him on the spot. Consequences be damned.”
Alastair stopped, grabbing Drakonis’s arm.
“How is that possible? Dragons can only mate with other dragons.”
Drakonis leveled his gaze on his only friend. “I feel a pull to her that cannot be described. And I know she does too. If circumstances were different, she would have accepted me. I will make those circumstances happen. Now I have a mission for you Alastair. Send a message to Belisarius. Have Basil smuggle all the children and wives of Duke Komnenos, Vladislav, and Bringas. Tomorrow the Pythia will force a vision from Clara, and I may awaken.”
“Awaken? Drakonis, you think…”
“I know I am,” Drakonis interrupted. “I felt it in the Ruins and Clara confirmed it. Father said he is waiting to see who the confirmed Heir is to make his decision.”
“Kazimir must know.” Alastair said. Drakonis nodded.
“I believe that is why the Pythia is here, and why he has been different towards Clara.”
“The Pythia cannot change what the Fates decide.” Drakonis nodded at Alastair. “Clara is unable to lie, but Kazimir will do what he can to make what she sees void. After all, he tricked the country in believing the ancestors chose him all those years ago.”
“I will prepare our soldiers. I believe many of them are itching to show the nobles a thing or two.”
“If Kazimir or the Pythia have done something to Clara then I will give them leave to do as they wish,” Drakonis said.
The blood in Drakonis’s body burned hot as he took leave. He would see his mother as well. She would need to be prepared as well in case war broke out the next day. There would never be a sunrise again over Ouroboros if his dearest princess was harmed.