Queen of Dragons: Steamy Fantasy Erotic Romance (Dragon nights Book 1) (5 page)

“Viviana what in god’s name are you doing here!” He shouted,
his face reddening from embarrassment. The red-head giggled mischievously.

“Come and join us Lady Viviana.” She said.

 Viviana could see that she was holding a birch twig in
her hand like a riding crop, it was probably the reason Kit’s flanks and
backside were bright red.

“Kit some soldiers are coming to kill you and their coming
now. They think you’re a subversive. You have to leave the village this
instant.” Her voice rose in in volume until she was almost shouting. Kit looked
panicked, he reached for some trousers and bent to start putting them on.
Viviana grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. “No, no time for that,”
she said. “Go! Go now! Alexandra’s waiting outside for you, go.”

Downstairs the pub fell silent for a second time that night,
this time because the old landlord’s son, appeared to have just ran through the
public bar red-arsed and completely naked bar a pair of knee high leather
boots. After some momentary confusion the pub broke into gales of laughter, and
men were still holding their sides and wiping away the tears of mirth when
Captian Bates strode into the bar.

“Good evening gentlemen.” He said. “Please don’t mind me,
King’s business.” He signalled with his hand and Matt Tindall’s three sons ran
past him and thundered up the stairs. Matt stayed at his side leering
menacingly at Viviana, who was by now sitting at one of the tables, sipping a
half pint of ale and trying to look nonchalant despite her bare feet, flushed
face, wild hair and torn clothes.

“Lady Viviana,” said Captain Bates. “I was not expecting meet
you again so soon, what a pleasant surprise, we didn’t see you pass us on the
road.”

“Yes I took a stroll through the woods,” she said. “After you
mentioned heading down here I thought I might pop down myself, always good to
know what one’s dealing with on one’s estates you know.” She held the Captain’s
eye, knowing there was no way anyone could possibly believe her, but suspecting
that Bates would not call out a highborn lady in front of a room full of simple
folk. “Unfortunately the men you’re looking for don’t seem to be here, what a
pity. Perhaps they decided not to come back to the village at all, will you
join me for a drink?”

Captain Bates cast his cold eyes over Viviana’s ruined dress
and up to her dishevelled hair - so neat and coiffured when he had spoken to
her in the grounds of Loxley Hall earlier - “I understand completely.” He said.

Matt’s eldest son reappeared in the doorway with his forearm
around the neck of the red-headed girl. “There weren’t no soldiers up there,”
he said. “Just this one.”

“Right,” said Captain Bates, addressing the assembled
drinkers in the front bar. “I’m looking for Kit Fairfield the son of this
tavern’s old innkeeper and a man by the name of James Harper. Has anyone seen
them tonight?” Everyone stayed silent, Bates continued “has anyone seen them at
all? Do any of you know who I’m talking about? There will be a substantial
reward payable in cold right here,” he hefted a heavy purse. “For anyone who
give information.”

Eventually an old man mumbled into his tankard: “We aint seen
nobody, Sir.” Other voices joined in.

“Nobody here.” Said one.

“No, mustn’t have come back from the wars, poor souls.” Added
another.

“They’re lying!” Shouted Matt, staring wildly around the room.
“They were here. I know they came back here I saw them myself.”

Captain Bates spoke to him calmly. “Send men to the roads out
of the village and block the bridges.” He nodded towards the red-headed girl
struggling in the arms of her captors. “We’ll take her with us.” He turned
towards Viviana and said; “my lady, again, a pleasure to see you, I won’t join
you for that drink now, but if you would allow me I will call on you at Loxley
Hall tomorrow.” With that he spun crisply on his heel and walked from the bar.

Alexandra, Kit and Harper ran across the bridge over the
swift and cold running river Am. On the other side the land ran roughly uphill
towards the foothills of the Borset Mountains, with their dark crags and
ancient abandoned dragon nests. Beyond the lanes and well-tended fields of
Amvale Village it was a rough country of large boulders, scrubby woodlands and
deep ravines. Easy to get lost in, easy to lose a trail in. Alexandra was
certain that their pursuers would be able to work out which direction they had
left the village in, their path was strewn with a trail of gawping villagers
staring at Kit’s receding buttocks, but she hoped that in the rough wilderness
they would not be able to follow their trail.

Once they reached the open countryside Alexandra pulled them
off the road and down into the shade of the hedge that ran between the fields.
They could speak for the first time since they had left the tavern, all three
of them were wild eyed from adrenaline and exertion.

Alexandra struggled to catch her breath, it felt like there
was not enough air in the world to fill her aching lungs, and then panted:
“Viviana says you’re being hunted by King John, both of you,” she paused to
draw breath and the two men looked at each other. “She told me that you are
part of a subversive organisation plotting an uprising.” The two men said
nothing. Kit stood with his hands over his genitals, slightly embarrassed to be
so naked in front of his sister, while Harper stared back in the direction of
the village, his eyebrows lowered like he was spoiling for a fight, Alexandra
could see that he wasn’t the type of man to run away from trouble, and that it
would get him killed if he wasn’t careful.

“She told me they had sent a man called Bates to look for you.”
She continued.

“Shit.” Kit said. “Captain Bates?”

“You know him?” Asked Alexandra.

Harper stepped in. “Oh we certainly know him, we served with
him in the regiment,
” he said. “He’s a highborn prick and a real nasty
piece of work, one of the only men I met in those years of war who seemed to
take real pleasure in all the death and pain. He was the bastard who blinded
those men at Othem Moat.”

Kit looked pale and worried. “He’s not the kind of
man to give up,” he said. “He once marched us three days and three nights from
Dunstanine to Clawstone to track down some deserters, by the time we found them
we were all falling asleep on our feet, but he stayed up another three days and
nights torturing them. Sometimes I didn’t think he could be human.” He paused
and looked back towards the village “I hope he didn’t find Miranda in my room.”

Alexandra patted her brother’s arm. “She’ll be
fine,” she said. “If Miranda Carter knows anything it’s how to survive. I’m
more worried about what we are going to do.”

“What we are going to do?” Said Harper. “You are
not a part of this Alexandra, this is our problem, mine and Kit’s. You’re going
to go back to the Inn and keep pouring pints. Try to forget we ever came back
to Amvale at all.”

“Go back to the village and wait for Matt to come
back for me?” She said indignantly. “Without you and Kit around I might as well
just go and give myself to him now. I’m coming with you, Mother can run the Inn
without me.” Harper looked hard at Alexandra, it broke her heart to see it, but
he seemed genuinely angered at the prospect of having to take her along with
him.

“Are you sure about this?” He said. “The life of
an outlaw is not a happy one, I’ve lived it before, it’s a life of hunger and
paranoia, of constantly looking over your shoulder and wondering where the next
meal is going to come from, do you really want that?” Alexandra looked up at
him with a determined chin and nodded.

“I’m going to stay with you and Kit, I will never
let Matt take me, even if it means I have to live in tree and eat bloody acorns.”
She said.

“Alright then” said Harper. “We’ll be outlaws.
Welcome to a life of misery. We need to start walking. There were some
deserters from the regiment who planned to set up a camp on the other side of
the Borset Mountains, we’ll go to them. Christian and I had wanted to stay in
Amvale over the winter to try and win over as many of the village men as
possible and then join them in the spring when the passes had cleared, we’ll
have to go to them a little early.”

“So you are planning an uprising” said Alexandra
looking at the two men.

“We are planning to take back what’s ours.” Said
her brother. “This vale, this whole country shouldn’t be owned by just a few
people, and no man should be owned by another, we should not have been sent to
die in the north while King John lounged around in some safe warm brothel in
the Capital. We are going kill the highborn and give the people what should be
their birth-right, the land trees and rivers of this vale.”

“Kill the highborn? You mean Viviana? The girl
you’ve known since she was born? Who’s always been my friend and your friend?”
Alexandra asked, staring at Kit in open-mouthed horror.

He steadily returned his sister’s gaze, his
nakedness now forgotten. “If necessary, yes” he said, there was a steel in
voice that Alexandra had never heard before. “The dragons are coming back to
vale, and this time they will rain down fire on behalf of the people not the
Lords.”

“Shut up Kit, we don’t even know if the eggs are viable.
Now come on.” Said Harper. “The pass will still be open, but we don’t know how
long the snows will hold off. If we’re travelling off the main roads we need to
start moving this second.” He began to stride towards the distant mountain,
Alexandra and Kit fell in behind him. It was funny thought Alexandra, how a
settled life could change beyond all recognition in less time than it took to
drink a pint of beer.

Viviana left Loxley Hall early the next morning
before the sun had broken over the jagged ridges of the Borset Mountains, in
the cold, dawn light of the square she could see Matt Tindall overseeing the
building of the scaffold on which the two captured men were to be hung later
that day. She shivered as she passed, imagining Christian’s boots swinging from
those dark gallows, and pulled her cloak tight over her face so the men would
not recognise her. It was vital that she found her childhood friend before
captain Bates did. She had no idea where he had gone, but she headed for the
place where she knew the young Christian would have felt most secure, an old
wooden cabin by the stream at the top of the heavily wooded valley. She and
Christian had sometimes camped there before he went away, they had swam in the
clear waters and caught fish, cooking them over an open fire while sitting on
the mossy rocks. He had once told it was his favourite place in the whole
world.

Viviana had decided that she would find Christian
and then decide what she would do with herself. She knew that being highborn
wouldn’t be enough to protect her once Captain Bates had sent his report to the
capital. The bodies of the Dukes of the North lying in the moat at Castle
Ranchester attested to how King John dealt with noble traitors.

As she approached the cabin she saw a thin trail
of smoke rising from the top of the valley. When she reached the old hut, more
tumble-down and ruined than she remembered, there was no sign of Christian. But
there were still embers warm in the fire, and the remains of last night’s fish
summer on a rock. She decided to sit and wait for him. The day grew hotter as
it drew on, there was still some power in the late autumn sun, though the old
men in the village had been saying for some time now that a change in the
weather was on its way, they could feel it in their arthritic bones. She sat
and daydreamed about the happier times they had shared in the mossy valley, she
had hoped that they would return here under happier circumstances. Viviana felt
she could not search the woods - calling out for Christian would just alert the
others who might be looking for him.

Eventually the heat and the boredom became
unbearable and she stripped off to swim in the crystal clear pool. She dived in
from the overhanging bluff and gasped as the cold water closed over her head,
it had been years since she’d swum here and she’d forgotten how deceptively
deep the pool was. She ducked under the water and struck out, trying to reach
the bottom. It got darker and colder as she went further down, and the weight
of the water on her eardrums became unbearable. She’d never been able to touch
the bottom of the pool all the times she’d tried. Christian had once, Viviana
remembered panicking at the amount of time he’d been underwater, but then he’d
burst to the surface, grinning and clutching a pebble as proof of his feat. She
rose again, unsuccessful as always, and felt a shadow fall over her. Christian
was standing on the bluff, his hands on his hips, staring down at her.

“Have you come to claim me back?” He called down.
Viviana felt suddenly aware of her nakedness as she trod water looking up at
him, she remembered the hungry look he had given her in the square when she
first saw him again, and she felt gooseflesh breaking out across her skin, not
entirely to do with the cold water.

“No.” She replied, swimming to the edge of the
pool and climbing out, Christian’s eyes were on her back and she had to remind
herself that this man was not the innocent boy who she had known all those
years ago but a powerful man. “I’ve come to warn you, you’re in danger
Christian.”

“Why, have you informed the magistrates of my
deserting the estate?” He said, his voice dripping with cruel sarcasm.

Viviana let out an exasperated sigh. “Christian,
you know I’d never do that,” she said. “I’ve told you everyone who works for me
is free to go if they choose, you’re in much worse danger than any I could put
you in. The army are looking for you, they say you are part of a group that is
planning an uprising against the highborn, and that you’ve stolen something
that belongs to them. They’ve burned down your cottage, I was ready to charge
into the fire for you and all you can do is make cruel comments about my
class.”

Christian laughed. “Does it scare you?” He said “That
your little childhood friend is planning a revolution to get rid of you and all
your type? Highborn women have always been terrified of simple men, terrified
we’re going to rise up and grab them in our dirty hands, have our wicked
uncultured way with them.”

“I’m not scared of you Christian.” She said,
picking up her clothes and hiding her nakedness from him. “I’m scared for you.
They are going to hang two men today, and they’ve sent a man called Bates to
look for you.”

“Bates?” Said Christian, the mocking look fading from
his eyes for the first time. “Captain Bates? Are you sure? What did he look
like?”

“Tall, very handsome, dark hair and cold blue eyes,
he had a moustache and was dressed in leather armour.” She replied, strangely
happy to have him taking the situation seriously at last.

“Oh god, that’s him. Who has he caught? Not
Harper?” A hint of panic was creeping into his voice.

“No I think he and Kit managed to get out. He
found
David Rawls and Chris Jenson, they’ve
probably been hung by now.” She paused before continuing. “Why are you so
scared of Captain Bates?” She asked.

Christian slipped
his shirt over his head, once again Viviana found herself marvelling at the
massed ranks of muscle on his torso, he turned his back to her, displaying the
jagged map of scars that was his back. “Bates did this to me,” he said. “I had
just escaped from Rawford’s dungeon. I could barely stand, I crawled for five
days to our lines. Bates found me and accused me of being a Northern spy,
converted during my time in captivity. He tortured me for days, burning me with
hot rocks and brands, but I had nothing to confess. When I finally got him to
believe me he ruled that allowing myself to be captured was a form of desertion
and flayed the skin from my back in front of the other men as a punishment.”

Viviana did not
know what to say, how could she console somebody who has been through an
experience like that? She wanted to wrap him her arms, to stroke his head and
tell him that all was going to be alright, but she knew he wouldn’t let her,
and anyway, it would be a lie.

Christian looked
pained. “I have to go,” he said. “Rawls and Jenson won’t have been able to stay
quiet, I’ve experienced his ways of extracting information, no one could stay
silent. They’ll have told him all our plans, all our hiding places. What we
plan to do.”

“Where will you
go?” Asked Viviana, realising with a shock that this might be the last time she
ever saw Christian, something she had never even thought of in the ten years he
had been in the North fighting for King John.

“To the rebels in
the Borset Mountains,” said Christian. “If you see me again you’d better run.
I’ll be leading an army of free men to take back what’s ours.”

“I’m coming with
you” said Viviana without even thinking about it.

“You’re a
highborn,” said Christian with a laugh. “You’re our enemy, we’re going to kill
all the highborn.”

“King John will
kill me,” Viviana said. “I warned Kit and Harper what was happening, Captain
Bates and that drunken idiot Sir Robert Herriot will tell him what I’ve done. I
won’t be hung in the square like your friends, but I’ll be summoned court and
then one day, maybe in a month, or maybe in year there will be poison in my
wineglass or a dagger from behind the curtains. Our world might not be the same
as yours Christian, but it can be just as brutal. I have no choice but to
leave, I’m coming with you, you and your rebel friends can murder me if you
like, if I stay here I’m dead anyway.”

Christian grimaced.
“Just don’t slow me down.” he said.

Viviana staggered in
the snow, her feet catching on an unseen rock. They had been walking towards
the pass all day and Christian had barely said a word to her, barely acknowledged
her presence. Sometimes when she was walking ahead she would feel his eyes upon
her, she had fallen asleep after lunch, a chicken stolen from a local barn and
roasted over a makeshift campfire, and when she awoke she had found him
standing over her, but apart from brief exchanges about directions they
journeyed in silence. The air grew thinner as they climbed. For the last few
hours it had been snowing heavily and Viviana could feel her fingers and toes
sliding into a deadly numbness.

“We’re not going to
make it over the pass.” She shouted to him over the blizzard. “The snow is too
strong, I can’t see the path. We’re going to end up falling down a canyon or
lost with frostbite. We should head back to that last lodge and wait it out for
a few days.”

That afternoon they
had passed a lodge just below the treeline where the scrubby forest gave way to
bare mountain top. Viviana had traded her fine antique necklace, a locket with
a picture of her mother and father painted in miniature inside, for some thick
furs they could wear to cross the treacherous pass. She was certain the
necklace was worth far more than the old hides, maybe the owner would put them
up with food and board for a few days in return for her generosity.

Christian brought
his face close to hers, making sure he could be heard over the noise of the
wind and the thick furs Viviana wore over her ears. “If we wait a few days the
pass will close and we’ll be stuck on this side until the spring.” Said
Christian. “How long is the owner of that lodge going to hide us before he
starts talking? If we want to avoid being caught by Bates and his men we need
to get over that pass tonight.”

Viviana said
nothing, the light was fading fast and the white of the icy cliffs illuminated
everything, creating a gloomy drawn-out twilight, she could feel the ghosts of
all the travellers who had died in the pass swirling around her in the
blizzard. The snow stung her eyes as it whipped into her face, half blinding
her, there was no way they could carry on.

“Christian listen to
me. If we carry on walking in this weather we’re both going to die tonight.
This isn’t a stroll through the fields of The Vale, this is a mountain top,
there are cliffs on both sides of us, and we need to wait for the blizzard to
stop.” She paused hoping her point would sink in. “What use are you to the
rebellion as a frozen corpse in the bottom of some ravine?” She said.

“Fine.” Said
Christian. He walked over to a snow drift and began hacking at it viciously
with his stick.

“What are you
doing?” asked Viviana surprised and scared by the ferocity of his actions.

He knelt down and
starting heaving away the loosened snow. “I’m building a snow-cave. I did learn
some things from my time in the north,” he said. “We can wait for the storm to
blow out and then carry on in the morning without losing any ground.”

Viviana watched him
work, amazed at the raw power in his movements, after an hour he had dug a
small tunnel that sloped upwards into the snow drift. Viviana occasionally saw
his hands emerge as he pushed out more snow which she kicked away down the
mountainside. She was starting to shiver even through her thick furs and she
couldn’t feel either of her feet. After what seemed like an eternity she heard
Christian shout, “Come inside.” And she bent down to climb through the narrow
tunnel. Ahead it was pitch black, but she saw Christian’s face illuminated as
he struck his tinder. He was crouched on a small outcrop of rock trying to
build a fire with the bundle of sticks he carried on his back. Above him a
small dome of packed snow curved on top of the icy walls.

“We’ll suffocate if
you light that.” Said Viviana with alarm. 

“I’ve drilled a
vent hole up to the top of the drift,” said Christian waving hand at the roof.
“And we won’t even get wet because any snow that melts will run down the sides
of cave and away in this channel,” he gestured towards a small gutter he had
carved in the floor around the large rock. “We’ll be up here completely warm
and dry while the blizzard blows out there.” He beamed at her. For the first
time since he had come back from the wars Viviana recognised the Christian she
used to know, all those years locked in a dungeon and killing in the name of
King John had not completely destroyed his spirit of adventure and his pride in
a job well done. It almost broke her heart to see the small excitable boy she
had known and loved staring out his severe manly face.

Christian fussed
around the fire, trying to perfectly position the leather sack he carried at
all times in a place where it would not be touched by the melt water, nor get
too cold away from the fire. He moved it around with the delicate tenderness of
a mother caring for her children. When he had finally found a space for the bag
he gave a contented nod and sat himself next to it.

Viviana settled
herself next to the now blazing fire, the space was small and she had to sit
close Christian. He had shuffled over to allow her onto the rock, saying
nothing and staring into the flames, the joy had faded from his eyes once the
building was finished and the fire lit and he had once more settled into moody
introspection. Inside the small cave Viviana could not hear the wind outside,
the walls were thick-packed and beginning to shimmer with melt-water that
trickled down the channel Christian had carved. They had both taken off their
fur jackets and lain them on the rock underneath for comfort. Viviana was still
wearing her thick trousers and fur vest but Christian had removed his to better
cope with the heat coming from their fire. She looked at his long muscular
brown legs, and thought of all the miles they must have marched, the horrific
places they must have taken him since he had left The Vale. It was ridiculous
for her to have expected him to remain the same person she had once known.