Chapter 51
Rosomon
“Samyull!” I spot my friend, with a group of other servants and I drop the hood of the cloak I’m wearing. The group are all dressed in the simple garb of acolytes, many armed with knives and other weapons.
Zogar reluctantly agreed with my plan that I should seek them alone, fearing there might be bloodshed if a more aggressive approach was taken. Given the weapons, I’ve been proved right.
“Rosshall!” Lowering his sword, Samyull rushes toward me. “I mean Rosomon. You’re alive. Where have you been? Do you know what’s going on? Why are the dragons revolting?”
“Come,” I tell him. “I have much to tell you, but not here.”
“Stay here,” Samyull says to the others. “Stay hidden.”
I’m relieved that he’s agreed to come, and proud of how he’s taken a leadership position amongst the terrified servants.
The two of us remain quiet and take care not to be spotted until we are outside the gates of camp, where Zogar, Surath and Saxon are waiting.
Surath, in dragon form, stands proudly behind the two men, as if guarding them.
“Master Saxon!” Samyull calls out in shock.
Then he glances around, as if worried who heard his outburst. He rushes toward Saxon and bows his head when he reaches him.
“We were told you’d been executed for blasphemy.
I’m so grateful to see you’re alive. You were kind to me last year.
Back when I was foolish enough to think I could ride a dragon. ”
Saxon nods. “You weren’t foolish, and I was glad to help you.”
“And your dragon is alive!” Samyull turns toward Surath. “Where has she been? She’s been missing from the enclaves, since you returned from the Darkness. We all believed she was dead.”
“Samyull.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “We have much to tell you.”
He nods, then his eyes flick toward Zogar and quickly back to me. He leans in close. “Is this large man your servant?”
I laugh. Then take Zogar’s hand. “Samyull, this is Zogar, King of the Dragons.”
“Her husband,” Zogar adds gruffly.
I smile. I purposefully left out that detail, hoping to avoid overwhelming Samyull with too much information at once.
“Zogar?” Samyull shakes his head. “I thought that was the name of your dragon.”
Surath, still in Samyull’s line of sight, transforms into her human self, quickly using magic to create clothing to cover her naked body.
Samyull staggers back from me. “What? How?”
Zogar squeezes my hand. “I will give you and Saxon some time to speak to this small man,” he says, “while I assess the state of the dragon prison.”
My chest squeezes. I don’t want to be separated from Zogar.
“It won’t be for long, my queen.” He cups my face, as if he read my mind. “My people must hear my voice. And all who oppose me need to feel the heat of my fire.”