Queen of Dragons: Steamy Fantasy Erotic Romance (Dragon nights Book 1) (8 page)

Christian met Viviana’s gaze, for the first time
since they’d been reunited his eyes contained neither sexual hunger nor
distain. “Got it Christian?” She asked before continuing. “Kit and his men will
wait on the road to intercept any messengers they try to send out for reinforcements.
Once he sees us take down Sir Roberts flag he will head into the Village to
start spreading the news of the uprising amongst friendly faces - Harper’s
right - we need to draw as many people to us as quickly as possible if we want
to avoid being crushed by King John as soon as he hears the news.”

“And Sir Robert?” Asked Harper.

“He’ll have drunk so much the night before that at
dawn he’ll barley be able to move, let alone fight, we can deal with him at our
leisure,” said Viviana standing up. “Unless anyone has anything else to add I
suggest we start getting ready, we’re going to have to walk through the night
if we want to be at the castle for dawn.” She turned and strode towards the
training ground where she kept her pole-axe. Putting two fingers into her mouth
she gave shrill whistle and
Vultonis came
screaming from the dark sky to land beside her. She scratched him under the
scaly chin, “Soon, soon you’ll fight with us, but not yet.”

Viviana looked behind her to the silent line of men
creeping through the grey light of the pre-dawn. “It’s just down here.”
Whispered Miranda pointing to the mouth of a narrow canyon before sliding
between its two rock faces. Viviana followed her, wincing as the point of her
poleaxe clashed loudly on the stone. As Miranda led the rebels deeper into the
canyon Viviana felt Christian’s presence close behind her. He had been
radiating a malevolent energy throughout the march and Viviana could sense his
overwhelming desire for blood, his lust to exact his vengeance on the class he
saw as having stolen his life and his beloved valley. She felt herself shiver. She
hoped that something good could come of this, something that would help the
common people, not just more bloodshed and disruption. The country had seen
enough death over the last ten years, and she got the horrible feeling that
despite their noble intentions, if Christian’s revolution succeeded there would
be even more good men killed in the Vale and beyond.

Miranda led them to a spot at the bottom of the
ravine where a few scrubby bushes and bits of bracken grew between the sheer
cliff edges and halted. Viviana and the others gathered around her. “It’s here
somewhere,” she whispered. “We just have to get down on our hands and knees and
find it, the opening is very small.” She looked jittery and ill at ease. In
near silence the rebels began to search the bushes, Viviana drew Christian aside
and whispered to him:

“Something’s not right, look at Miranda, she’s not
helping search the bushes. She’s staring at the cliff top. I think she’s
waiting for someone.” The rebels’ search was becoming more desperate as she
said this, the longer they looked for the tunnel without finding anything, the
more disconcerted Viviana became.

After a few moments of futile searching Harper
took Miranda by the shoulders and started shaking her. “Tell us where it is,”
he demanded loudly. “Where is the entrance!” For the first time Viviana could
detect a hint of panic in the big man’s voice. Miranda said nothing, but looked
blankly up at the sky, apparently unaware of the increasing confusion around
her.

A clear voice rang out from overhead. “Can I help
you Sargent Harper? Have you lost something?” Viviana looked up to see outline
of Captain Bates silhouetted against the brightening sky. She gripped tighter
on the handle of her axe, but knew he was too high for her to reach. Her
stomach sank as she gazed upwards, a line of troops had appeared on the top of
each of the canyon’s high walls, some held crossbows and others carried large
rocks, they were a mixture of dark looking men from the capital and grey
skinned, sharp toothed cave goblin mercenaries. Viviana started back up the
canyon the way they had come, but as she did so a group of soldiers rounded the
corner to block their escape route. So thought Viviana this is how it ends, not
with a glorious march into the capital but dead in a ditch just a few miles
from where this had all started. She felt strangely calm as she looked around
at the men she was about to die with.

The outlaws drew their swords, each knowing that
he was preparing to meet his maker. Some muttered prayers under their breath,
some said nothing, just gritted their teeth. Harper rolled his shoulders and
loudly cracked his knuckles, evidently preparing to go down fighting. Christian
knelt to the ground and picked up a handful of earth, he rubbed it between his
fingers.

“This is our land,” he said in a loud steady voice
to the men gathered around him. “This land belongs to all of us, and to our
children and to their children. If I die fighting for this land I die well.”

Captain Bates laughed down on them. “But it’s not
your land is it Christian? Its Sir Roberts’s land, you’ll die fighting for Sir
Robert’s land and you’ll die pointlessly.” He passed his attention on to
Viviana “Ah, Lady Viviana, such a pleasure to see you again,” he said. “I tried
to call on you a few months back, but you were not home. Such a pity as I fear
this may be the last time we meet.” He signalled for his troops to shoulder
their crossbows, Viviana stared up feeling helpless, time seemed to stand still
as she heard the arrows click into the stocks. It would be a miracle if anyone
survived even the first volley.

The silence was broken by a voice. “Captain Bates
wait for me! Let me out!” Shouted up Miranda. Captain Bates looked down on her
with faintest of smiles and gave her an almost imperceptible wave with his
leather clad hand before turning away.

“Don’t worry about the red-head,” he told his men.
“Kill them all.”

A crossbow bolt thudded into the man standing next
to Viviana sending a spray of blood across her cheek. “Run now!” Shouted
Christian shoving her hard towards the soldiers blocking the canyon’s exit. She
saw the man in front of her fall, an arrow hitting him in the back of the neck
and driving through him to emerge below his Adam’s apple. Miranda had stayed
exactly where she was, even after the first crossbow bolt hit her she remained
upright, staring up open mothed at Captain Bates. Another bolt pierced her,
then another and she sank to her knees, still trying to raise her eyes to the
handsome captain, blood spilling out across her dress and into the dark earth
of the canyon.

Christian held his shield above Viviana as they
ran towards the troops, she could hear the arrows thud into its thick wood, and
there was a heavy boom as it was struck by a large boulder. Viviana heard
something snap in Christians arm, and it hung loose and limp by his side. He
howled in pain and stopping running to cradle his shattered limb. Viviana
turned round to see another boulder strike him on the side of his head driving
him to the floor. She made towards him, but another rebel, this one streaming
blood from a cut above his eye shoved her onwards towards the troops blocking
their escape.

Harper let out a roar as he reached the line of
Captain Bates’ men. He thrust his sword up into the stomach of the first man he
met and pivoted quickly, using his huge momentum to ram his shoulder into the
next. Viviana followed close behind and finished the man off as he lay on the
ground, the rebel who had shoved Viviana forward was no longer running next to
her, he had been chopped to the floor. Ahead she saw two cave dwellers run at Harper,
he parried the first’s swing and struck his massive fist into the stocky goblin’s
face, knocking it onto its back, before bringing his sword down hard on the
second’s collar-bone, the blade digging deep into its neck. Harper’s strength
had opened up a small gap in the enemy line, offering a tiny glimpse of freedom
and Viviana ran for it, as she did so her ankle gave way on the stony canyon
floor and she fell hard.

Harper turned round at her cry and looked as if he
was going to come back to help her, she screamed at him “Go Harper. Go to Kit
and rouse the village!” She watched him turn and run from the canyon - the last
hope for their glorious revolution - a crossbow bolt protruding from between
his shoulder blades. Desperately she whistled, but there was no reply.

Alexandra stood on the road to Amvale watching the
castle. The sun was well up over the clock tower, but still Sir Roberts’s
family crest, a boar rampant, flew over the battlements.

“Do you think something’s happened to them?” She
asked her brother, her voice full of worry.

“I don’t know.” Kit said anxiously his normally
cheerful face furrowed in an expression of extreme tension. She watched his hands
nervously flutter about the hilt of his heavy sword.

“I told them not to trust Miranda.” said
Alexandra. “The way she was behaving just didn’t seem right.”

“I’m sure they are fine,” said Kit, not wanting to
think about whether his own girlfriend had betrayed them. “Just watch the
flag.”

As they stared up at the overblown turrets and
crenulations of Brookmere Castle there came a rushing and crashing from the
side of the road, something big was charging through the forest, breaking
branches as it went. Kit and the five men on the road drew their swords and
Alexandra ran to take shelter behind them. She gasped in horror as she saw
Harper burst from the woods, he was bleeding heavily from a deep cut above his
eyes, and his breath was ragged. She saw that there was a crossbow bold in his
back and that his shirt was sodden with blood.

Alexandra ran to him “What happened Harper!” She
cried. “Where are the others?” Harper let out a ragged gasp.

“Ambushed,” he said. “The others, all dead or
taken.”

“Who’s dead?” Asked Alexandra.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe all of them.
Miranda’s dead, I think Christian is too. I don’t know if anyone else got out.”

“What about Viviana?”

“She was alive when I left, but hurt, I wanted to
go back to help her but…” He paused, fighting to get his breath back. “I almost
hope she is dead, I spent years fighting alongside Captain Bates. I know the
things he does to his enemies. If they’ve taken any of them alive I pray they
die quickly.”

Kit looked appalled all the colour had drained from
his face. “Was it Miranda” he said. Harper looked at him for a moment and then
nodded. “Oh god,” said Kit. “If there is a chance any of them might be alive
we’ve got to get into the castle, we can’t let Bates have them.” He was
panicking. “We have to rally the people.”

Alexandra looked towards Castle Brookmere, it was
an imposing structure, the walls were not immensely high but they were
monstrously thick, and the gate was barred by a portcullis with iron bars as
broad as a man’s arm. She found it hard to believe that any amount of people
from the village would be able to break their way in. But if there was even the
smallest chance her friend was inside then she knew they had to try.

One of the men stepped forwards, it was Hugh,
Viviana’s page. “Let’s go to Loxley Hall,” he said. “There are still men there
like me, men who would die for Lady Viviana.”

“I’m going to the tavern” said Alexandra hurriedly.
“I’m not sure if there are men there who would die for Viviana, but there are
certainly some I know who would love the chance to kill Bates and Matt
Tindall.”

Viviana looked up at the ornate vaulted ceiling of
the banqueting hall at Brookmere Castle and thought back to the interminable
dinners she had suffered through in this room, listening to Sir Robert get
drunk and lecture her about the proper way to discipline serfs, or ramble on
about what his great grandfather had done in the Seventy Year War. Now here she
was, back in the same room but this time tied up to a pillar and awaiting her
own punishment.

“I always prefer a banqueting hall for torture,”
said Captain Bates, stroking his moustache. “I know a dungeon is more
traditional, but you get a much better quality of light in a banqueting hall.
It’s easier to do the more detailed work, don’t you think Sir Robert?”

Sir Robert Herriot looked ill, he swallowed
audibly and said, “really Bates do we have to do this to Lady Viviana, she is
one of us after all.” He pointed to where Christian stood tied to another
pillar, staring murderously at his captors with dried blood matting his hair.
“Can’t we just do that one and send Viviana off to the king to execute like a
proper highborn lady.”

“Oh she’s no lady,” said Bates coldly. “She lives
with the commoners, she fights with the commoners, she lies with the commoners,
and now she’s going to die with the commoners.”

He bent his face close to Viviana’s, she noticed
that he was lightly perfumed, a not unpleasant smell of warm leather and
rosewater. “After I kill you,” he said. “And that might take some time, I’m
going to ride over to Loxley Hall and I’m going to burn it to the ground. Then
I’m going to tour round your estates and your farms, and even the woods, and
I’m going to kill every one of your serfs.” He paused smiling malevolently.
“And then I’m going to kill their wives, and then their children, and you know
why? Because you’re a traitor, and traitors have no right to property.”

“They’re not my property,” said Viviana calmly.
“They are freemen.”

Bates laughed. “Oh free men are they? Even more
reason to get rid of them. Sir Robert how do you feel about your serfs bumping
into Lady Viviana’s freemen? About these so-called freemen whispering into
their ears, giving them ideas?” Sir Robert shook his head to signify that he
did not like that idea at all. “Do you know how many more simple folk there are
in this land than highborn?” Said Bates, not waiting for an answer before
continuing. “There are a hundred of them for every one of us. With the right
ideas and the right organisation they could rise up and crush us in one night.
So we can’t have people going around spreading ideas about rights and equality.
Ideas lead to thinking and thinking leads to revolution.”

“Your time has passed Bates.” Said Christian
coldly. “You can kill us and all our friends, and maybe you will have control
of Amvale for another few years, but the people are angry, it might not start
here, it might start in the North, or the marshes of the West, but somewhere
the people will rise, and when they do nothing you highborn do will stop them.
We’ll roll over you like the tide on a beach.”

Bates laughed “Christian Gardner,” he said. “So
passionate, so intense. I thought I’d flogged that out of you.” He turned to
Viviana “Isn’t he something? Can you see what I had to put up with, having him
under my command?” He stepped back and resumed talking to Christian. “The
highborn have ruled this land for two thousand years, do you think you are the
first commoner in all that time to realise that the system is unfair? It’s all
part of the game, for dozens of generations people like you have been getting
angry and people like me have been killing them.” He drew back his fist and
punched Christian hard on his shattered arm, head the bones grind together in
the brave man’s arms but Christian did not cry out, he wouldn’t allow Bates the
satisfaction.

“Release Lady Viviana,” he said. “Send her to the
Capital for a proper trial. She knew nothing about this until I came back, and
she didn’t want a revolution, just to look after her workers.”

Viviana looked from Captain Bates to the simpering
Sir Robert before speaking. “I do want a revolution,” she said coldly. “I want
to see the people of this valley rise up and take what’s theirs, I want to see
the ploughmen and hedge-layers in this banqueting hall drinking your wines Sir
Robert, and Captain Bates I want to see you thrown down the latrines to drown
like the piece of shit you are. I want to see this castle and Loxley Hall and
all the other noble houses burned to the ground by dragon fire, I want to see
shepherds and cowmen dancing in King John’s bedchamber.” As she stopped talking
Bates struck her hard across the face, a stinging blow that left her ears
ringing.

“I tell you what I plan to do Lady Viviana,” he
said. “I’m going to start with you friend over there,” he waved towards
Christian. “First I’m going to take out his nails, slowly, then his teeth, then
his eyes,” he paused never breaking his gaze from Viviana’s. “Then I’m going to
take my sharpest knife and I’m going to cut him, just very gently on his arm,
and then I’m going to cut him on his leg and on his chest, I’m going to cut him
a thousand times until he doesn’t even have any skin left, and I’m going to
make you watch,” Christian stared unflinchingly ahead as Bates spoke. “And
then, while you watch him bleed to death I’m going to call in Matt and his
sons, and all my soldiers who’ve always wanted to have a go on a highborn
bitch, and I’m going to let them do what they want with you. Then when they’re
finished, I’m going to start pulling out your nails.”

Christian gave a roar and strained against his
ropes, Viviana could see the muscles and tendons standing out on his neck as he
strained to reach Bates. “You kill me however you like,” he shouted. “But you’re
supposed to be a noble, leave Viviana be.” She was amazed at the fervour he
showed to protect her, ever since he had returned he seemed to have nothing but
contempt for her, but here in the banqueting hall it seemed like he would give
his life for her.

Bates laughed. “You know that’s not how I work
Christian.” He said. “Sir Robert could you please bring me my pliers, they’re
on the table.”

As Captain Bates advanced with the pliers Viviana
could hear Sir Robert retching, he might have been a vicious, unthinking drunk,
but he didn’t have the stomach for this level of cruelty. Christian was staring
directly ahead, his damaged arm hanging limply by his side. Viviana could not
bear to watch, to see the strong, determined man cut to pieces before her eyes,
it was more than she could take. For the first time since the men had marched
back in the village all those months ago she began to cry.

Captain Bates took Christian’s hand and opened the
mouth of his pliers, clamping them around the nail of his little finger, when
the great door to the banqueting hall flew open. There stood Matt Tindall, his
face shining red with agitation and panic.

“The villagers are coming!” He said.

Alexandra strode along the road to Brookmere Castle
her hair blowing behind her in the breeze, she held a heavy sword in both
hands. How odd it felt, this morning she had never carried a blade and now she
was bearing one into battle. To her left walked Kit, an axe gripped tight and a
long ladder over his shoulder, to her right was Harper, still bloodied but
striding forward with death in his eyes. Behind her, trailing back for a
quarter of a mile, walked the people of the Vale, they had left their fields -
abandoning the orchards and the watermills - and flocked to Alexandra’s call.
Carrying whatever weapons they could find or improvise from the barns and
haylofts of Amvale they marched in silence towards the flickering lights of the
castle. In the half light of dusk their torches threw wild shadows over their
faces.

One hundred yards from the Castle’s portcullised
gate Alexandra turned round to face the people, most of whom she had known her
whole life, they were her customers in the tavern and her neighbours in the
square. She knew them all as gentle country-folk, was used to hearing them
complain about a late frost or a wet winter, but here, under the darkening sky
and illuminated by the flames, they looked as powerful as any army. Some
carried pitchforks and long handled scythes. The men who had returned from the
wars wore a raggedy collection of weapons and armour. Some marched forwards
carrying only heavy sticks and axe handles. Behind the men at the front people
held long ladders, previously used in the orchards to pick the highest apples
but now strapped together to create something capable of scaling a castle’s
walls. Alexandra wondered if any of them would see the dawn.

She watched as her brother stepped forwards to
address the villagers, he slowly looked over the crowd before speaking: “Anyone
who does not want to be a part of this can go now with their heads held high,”
he said. “I know you have families to support and land to tend, if you leave
now you go with my blessing.” In the silent crowd no one moved. “Some of us
will die tonight,” he continued. “But those who do will have died freemen. I
welcome death if it brings us one day closer to living like equals. Tonight you
fight not only for your freedom, but for the freedom of every single person in
Amvale and beyond. Fight for every time a highborn has wronged you, for every
tax King John has levied to pay for his pointless wars.” At this a cheer went
up among the crowd. “Fight for your village, for the Vale and for each other.
Tomorrow we wake freemen!”

He turned to face the wall. Alexandra could feel
the resolve leaving the people of the village. The battlements were too high,
too well defended. It was a suicidal mission. Kit looked back at the people,
raised his axe and with a bloodthirsty cry began towards the castle. To
Alexandra’s horror no one but Harper went with him, the villagers stayed
uncertainly where they were while her brother and Harper marched towards a lonely
and inevitable deaths. She was about to follow them when she spotted something
circling high above the castle.

“Look,” She cried. “The dragons have returned to
the Vale. Only this time they fight not for the lords but for the people.” There
was a disbelieving murmur from the people, replaced by an exited shouts as they
realised that it really was a dragon. Alexandra prayed for a sign, anything
that would tell the people that the dragon, a baby though it was, was with them.
Vultonis swooped low over the castle, and for
the first time in his life opened his mouth to spew out a jet of boiling liquid
flame. Sir Robert’s flag with the boar rampant was engulfed in a fire ball, the
roof tiles bursting into flame below it. Alexandra raised her sword high. “For
the Vale.” She shouted, and was relieved to hear it bellowed back as the people
charged the castle.

As Alexandra sprinted for the walls she began to
hear the crossbow bolts whistle around them. Ahead she saw her brother,
desperate to make amends for what she knew he saw as his mistake of trusting
Miranda, running through what looked like a hailstorm of arrows. Some embedded
themselves in the ladder he carried, others thudded into the ground by his fast
moving feet, but he made it to just below the castle walls and managed to plant
one end of the ladder in the ground, momentum carrying the other end up high
against the castle’s defences, and as other ladders sprung up around his, he
began to climb.

In front of her Harper ran to scale the walls and
Alexandra followed him up the ladder, marvelling that he could move at all with
the amount of blood that caked his shirty. On top of the battlements chaos
reigned. Kit, the first man up, was swinging his axe wildly, surrounded by Sir
Robert’s soldiers. She saw Harper pick a man up bodily and throw him screaming
into the courtyard below. The soldiers of Castle Brookmere were being slowly
pushed back under the assault of the furious country-men.

The men of Amvale did not know how to parry or
fence, they wore no armour and thrust only with pitchforks and clubs, but their
numbers and rage were overwhelming. One of the soldiers turned and ran towards
the stairs. For a moment it looked like their line would break, but the fleeing
guard was met by Captain Bates and Matt Tindall coming up the steps. Bates
thrust a sword through his own man’s neck and shouted “Anyone runs and I kill
them myself.” before charging into the fray.

Captain Bates attacked with devastating accuracy,
his whirling blade cutting through villagers as if they were made of straw.
Alexandra watched in horror as he sliced through the brave young Hugh, Lady
Viviana’s favourite page, and stepped over his body towards where Kit and
Harper were struggling with a trio of soldiers. She could see those around her
were beginning to falter, sensing a change in the momentum of the fight. She
held her sword above her head and ran forward, desperately trying to reach
Captain Bates. Her way was blocked by one of Matt Tindall’s sons and she
brought her blade down on him as hard as she could, he fell screaming at her
feet. She felt the men behind her surge forward, pushing captain Bates back
towards the stairs, another of Matt’s sons fell, this time to Kit’s axe, and
soon only Captain Bates and Matt himself remained of the defending troops.

They stood together at the top of the stairs, their
fellow defenders might all have been dead but they held firm,
shoulder-to-shoulder, swords held out towards the villagers. For a moment no
one dared approach them, they had seen the damage Bates’ blade could inflict.
Captain Bates looked at the approaching crowd of peasants, and the bristling
field of weapons they carried. “Well Matt,” he said calmly. “I think it’s
time.” And stepping back he shoved his companion hard into country-men. As the
villagers tore into Matt Tindall Alexandra saw Captain Bates run down the
stairs, disappearing through a door into the castle.