Queen of Dragons: Steamy Fantasy Erotic Romance (Dragon nights Book 1) (4 page)

Viviana sat in her
armchair in front of the great fire in the banqueting room of Loxley Hall.
Although two days had passed she was still musing on her conversation with
Cristian. She wished that she had the fun-loving free spirit that she had known
in her childhood back, but she could tell that the horrors Christian had gone
through on the orders of King John had affected him deeply. The handsome but
damaged man who had come back wasn’t the carefree young man who had left
Amvale, she thought back to the look he had given her that first day in the
square, like he was ready to eat her up, and shivered. She still hoped she
could connect with him. She wished she were able drum it into him that she
wasn’t like the other highborn, she didn’t see people as property to be bought,
sold, traded and killed as if they were livestock.

Viviana hadn’t asked to inherit her ancestral home, her
father had died when she was just seventeen and having no brothers all the
property and the huge responsibilities that came with it had fallen to her. She
had always done her best to run it in the most egalitarian manner she
reasonably could, she knew most of the people who worked and lived on her
estates loved her for her generosity and even handedness, she longed to make
Christian see that there was a way the highborn and the simple-folk could live
together in harmony. It had been hard for the Dragon Lords of Loxely to
transform themselves into ordinary land owners, but she thought she was
managing the transition as well as could be expected.

Her page boy poked his head round the door. “Hello Lady
Viviana, sorry to disturb you, but you have a visitor.” He said. Viviana sat
up, hoping momentarily that it was Christian come to apologise, before
realising that no one, not even the most over-attentive of page boys, would
call the old gardener’s son a visitor.

“Who is it Hugh?” She asked.

“Sir Robert Herriot,” said the page, Viviana groaned. “I’m
sorry my lady” he continued, “I can’t stand the man either, but he said it was
a matter of the utmost urgency.”

“Right show him in,” said Viviana. “and bring us some brandy
and two glasses, I’m sure Sir Robert will be thirsty after his ride.” The page
let out a short chuckle, he knew Sir Roberts reputation as a drunk as well as
most people in the vale.

A few minutes later the page was back, this time announcing
in a theatrical tone: “my lady, may I present Sir Robert Herriot, 16
^th
Duke of Amvale.”

As he finished speaking a tall, flabby, red-faced man swept
into the room in an ornate cloak. Viviana noticed that his nose was even more
purple than last time she had seen him, and his eyes noticeably more bloodshot.
As ever he was dressed in the opulent robes of the courtesan dandy he had been
in his long departed youth.

“Sir Robert!” She exclaimed. “What an unexpected pleasure.
My, that is a fine robe, you should wear cerise more often. It really brings
out your colour.” Sir Robert blushed with pleasure at the compliment from the
beautiful highborn lady, Viviana continued in her most convivial tone, “I was
just about to take a drop of brandy, will you join me?”

“Lady Viviana, as beautiful as always.” He said, stooping to
put a sloppy kiss on the back of her hand, she tried to keep herself from
shuddering as the tip of his wet nose pressed against her wrist. “I really
won’t have any brandy, I’m afraid this is not a social call.” he paused for a
second. “Though actually, I suppose, if the bottle is open then it would be
rude not to keep you company.” He reached out and poured them both generous
measures of the amber liquid.

“Oh not a social call? How sad, then to what do I owe the
pleasure?” She asked, trying to sound disappointed that she wasn’t going to be
treated to any evening of boring stories about Sir Roberts’s youth and
patronising advice about how she ought to be running her estates.

“I’m afraid I’ve had some rather upsetting news.” Said Sir
Robert taking a deep sip of brandy, he sighed with pleasure after swallowing
the potent liquid and Viviana could smell his breath from where she sat, even
mixed with the heady fumes from the alcohol it smelt like something was rotting
inside him. “I’m sure you know this already,” he said. “But last week some of
the men of Amvale returned from the Northern Wars. Blasted shame what’s
happened to them up there I say, they can’t seem to work at all since they got
back, I’ve had to flog three of mine already.”

 “I was aware they had returned.” Viviana said, trying
to keep her contempt for Sir Robert’s style of governance from her voice. Four
years ago the Vale had been brought to the edge of rioting when Sir Robert had
drunkenly whipped a young father to death in front of his family because, in
his own words, “he looked at me funny.”

“Of course, of course,” said Robert. “Dare say you’ve been
having the same problems I have, except you don’t flog yours do you?” He leered
at Viviana, staring unashamedly at her chest. “Dare say you’ll come round to it
when you’re a bit more experienced. Anyway this morning I had a visit from one
Captain Bates, he served with the regiment in the Northern Wars, nice chap,
highborn. He told me that he had been sent back to the Vale as part of King
John’s…” Sir Robert paused, trying to remember the tricky phrase. “As part of
King John’s Post Conflict Resolution Party.” He said triumphantly.

“His what?” said Viviana. “The war is over. Why is the King
sending men back to the Vale? We pay our tithes, he has no right to have
military men stationed here.”

Well it’s all very worrying,” slurred Sir Robert. “Apparently
over the last few years of fighting a bit of disillusionment crept into some of
the men. King John’s spies have told him that across the armies certain ideas
have been spreading. There were those who didn’t believe they should be
fighting at all and who were questioning the authority of the King and his
commanders to make them. Captain Bates has been charged with hunting down the
known troublemakers who returned our region. Good thing to I say, can’t have
the simple folk running around getting ideas just because they waved a sword at
a couple of northerners.”

Viviana kept her expression neutral she thought back to the
things Christian had said to her a few days previously about being owned by no
man. “It doesn’t seem like King John to let the plotters get that far,” she
said. “Why didn’t he just kill them as soon as he heard the rumours of
insubordination?”

Sir Robert gave a short laugh and poured himself another
brandy. “Oh my pretty little Viviana wars cost a lot of lives,” he said
patronisingly. “No point in wasting good bodies when you’ve still got to
northerners to kill. Of course now it’s different, can’t have those ideas
spreading to rest of the peasants” he took another long sip of the brandy and
continued speaking: “anyway Captain Bates requested help putting together a
party to hunt down the undesirables. I’ve given him some of my serfs to use,
one Matt Tindall and his sons. Tindall should be safe, he didn’t go away to
fight and I’ve used him as my foreman before. Handy with a whip and far too
thick to get any ideas above his station.”

Sir Robert took another sip of brandy. “There’s some question
of theft as well. Apparently something went missing from Castle
Ranchester.
Something that wasn’t supposed to be looted by the men.” The drunken lord
leaned in conspiratorially, Viviana did her best not to gag on the smell of his
breath. “Something magical,” He whispered. “Bates won’t tell me what it was,
but he says King John is enraged. It’s a hanging issue for sure.”

“Do you know who they’ve been told to hunt down?” asked
Viviana, thinking again of the speech Christian had given her in the grounds of
his cottage, if people had been making trouble it seemed very likely he had
been involved, she was reminded of the mysterious leather bag he kept on him at
all times.

“I do actually,” Robert replied. “According to the King’s
spies there are five suspected insubordinates who returned to the village and
surrounding farms; David Rawls, Chris Jenson, Kit Fairfield, he’s the
innkeepers son, a stranger by the name of James Harper, and one of yours,
Christian Gardner. I’ve told Bates he can execute them all, but seeing as one
belongs to you I thought I’d better do the polite thing and come and let you
know.”

“You’ve done what?” Shouted Viviana. “When? When are they
going to be killed?”

“Tomorrow hopefully,” Said Robert. “They’re out there rounding
them up now. Bates said they’ve caught Rawls and Jenson already, and Matt said
he could lead them to your man Christian Gardner, so they should be out there
picking him up as we speak, then it’s down to the tavern for the other two and
perhaps a pint or two.”

Sir Robert leant over to refill his glass a third time and
was surprised to see Viviana run past him and out of the room.

Viviana could smell smoke, thick and acrid in the autumn air,
as soon as she left the hall. As she ran through the grounds towards the gardener’s
cottage see was horrified to see tongues of flame licking across the thatched
roof. “Christian!” she cried. She was readying herself to charge at the burning
door when a tall moustachioed man stepped into her path and gripped her tightly
by the tops off the arms.

“Lady Viviana I presume.” He said in a calm voice. Behind him
Viviana could see the smirking faces of Matt Tindall and his sons. “I’m
terribly sorry about the damage to your property,” he gestured behind him to
the now blazing cottage where Christian had been born and raised. “Rest assured
that King John will fully reimburse you for the damages.” He let go of
Viviana’s shoulders and took a step back, staring at her with his chilly blue
eyes.

“What have you done with him?” She shouted.

“With Cristian Gardner?” He said. “Nothing my lady, he wasn’t
at home to receive our visit, and we don’t think he’d been there for a while.
The hearth was cold when we arrived. But don’t worry yourself, we’ll find him
and your estate will return perfect peacefulness.”

“You have no right to be on my land.” Viviana said. “And you
have absolutely no right to take any of my men. If someone needs to be
disciplined I am more than capable of taking on that responsibility.”

The handsome moustachioed man reached inside his leather
jerkin and pulled out a tightly bound scroll. “I have a royal warrant,” he said
calmly. “As the kings agent I have every right to be on this land, and every
right to take any man I please.” He turned and starting walking towards the
village, his men following close behind.

When Viviana burst through the door the Inn fell into
complete silence, some of the men drinking were in her direct employment, they
stood up, taking their caps off as a sign of respect, it was rare to see the
Lady of Loxley Hall in the Bull Tavern. Viviana paid them no attention, she was
in a state of wild dishevelment, having run through the woods to get ahead of
Bates and his men. Her hair was untamed, she had discarded her shoes to make
better progress on the soft forest floor and her dress was ripped where it had
caught on a branch. She knew that warning the two men in the tavern would make
a traitor in the eyes of King John, but she couldn’t bear to see a man like
Kit, who she had known all her life, taken by the likes of Captain Bates and
Sir Robert.

“Alexandra, Alexandra!” She shouted, not caring or thinking
about her appearance, or any of the ways in which a highborn lady was supposed
to behave.

Alexandra looked round, she was sitting with the huge broad
stranger that Viviana recognised from the square, her hand on his upper thigh.
“My goodness Viv,” she said with a laugh. “What on earth have you been doing? I
thought you’d grown out of all that stuff, is this Christian’s influence?”

While Alexandra spoke Viviana strode over and grabbed her by
the hand, pulling her away from her new man towards the back yard. “I need to
talk to you right now.” She said between clenched teeth.

In the darkened yard she quickly filled her horrified friend
in on what Sir Robert had told her and said “You have to tell you brother to
get out this very moment they are going to kill him.”

“What about Christian?” Asked Alexandra.

“I don’t know,” said Viviana. “I’m not sure where he is, but
I’ll take care of him, you just need to get your brother out. Was that man you
were talking to James Harper? They are going to execute him too, he should run
with Kit. There’s a man from King John’s army called Captain Bates who has been
sent to look for them, he’s already burnt down my gardener’s cottage and caught
two men he claims are plotting an uprising, the others need to go right now.”

“Wait a second,” said Alexandra. “I’m not sure I understand,
my Kit is plotting a revolution? That can’t be right.”

“It doesn’t matter if he is or isn’t plotting a revolution,”
said Viviana urgently “The King thinks he is and he’ll be killed for it either
way. I think one of them may have taken something the king wants.”

“Right” said Alexandra. “I’ll tell Harper. Go and get my
brother, he’s in his room. Tell him to meet us by the door.” She ran back into
the public bar.

Viviana took the stairs up to Kit’s room two at a time, she
burst through the heavy wooden door, not pausing to knock, and saw two faces
staring up at her. Kit was down on all fours with a pretty redhead sitting on
his back just like she was riding a horse. Apart from a pair of leather boots
and some leather gloves he was completely naked. Kit spluttered for a moment
before he managed to spit the cotton gag from his mouth.