I shift on the hard granite, easing a sharp point that is trying to drill its way into my hip bone. I don’t get up and move away, aside from the almost complete sensory overload of heat and scents, the view from this window is so beautiful. The vista calls to me. Calls for another adventure, another trip to the distant, almost visible coast. But that is not an option right now. My sister Alice is to marry Paul, a man of her own choice. What a scandal that caused. Father dotes on her, so when she announced that it was "Paul or No one." he acquiesced. Mind you, Paul is a good guy, good company, a fine soldier, a credit to our family I reckon.
The change in air pressure from inside the citadel indicates that my quiet contemplation is about to be disturbed. I sigh and keep on looking out out across the plains, ignoring the stealthy approach. I grab the outstretched hand that intends to push me off my perch. Gently I pull the hand away and tickle my attacker with the other hand. She jerks away giggling.
"Stop, stop!"
Janey from the Temple has a silly sense of humour but is also considered the best priestess there is, despite her practical jokes. She seems to soften bad prophecies with practical jokes, so this attack has ominous possibilities. She might be just wanting to play, but I am doubtful.
I let go and swivel around so I can see her. Tall willowy, long black hair, now turning iron grey. Lines are becoming evident on her face. Mostly laugh lines I hasten to add. She is ageing, but gracefully. Not surprising I suppose, she must be at least 60 years old. I like her and she views me as a sort of mascot. She quite often delivers omens, prophecies to me and leaves me to do the final delivery. Not a happy situation, but one that I have grown up with.
One prophecy I have not shared was her off hand comment when I was just heading into puberty.
"You will rule one day." she said and burst out laughing. I laughed too because, well I am what can only be called a by blow. One of Fathers "indiscretions". Don’t get me wrong, I am accepted as member of the family, but I have been made to realise I am in no way in line for the throne. That is fine by me. I like the life. I get to do the dirty work which is usually the most interesting, gets me to talk to the most interesting people. Gets me out of the the fortress and down onto the plains amongst the people of the realm.
"Tourism or business?" I ask her.
She hesitates. Bad sign. She doesn't hesitate often.
"Your sister is marrying a dragon. This will change things completely. Dynasties will fall, the found will be lost and the lost found."
She bows once and is gone before I can catch my breath. It is pointless to pursue her. She will be gone. I have tried before and failed dismally despite my speed and youth. I swing myself back onto the window sill lean back against the wall and look out across the distance.
The prophecy is startling, frightening. I curse Janey for not delivering this one in person.
I consider finding Father and delivering the prophecy and decide that maybe the prophecy would best be delivered in a few hours. Alice is after all not marrying Paul for another month. Paul is not a dragon. I know what they look like. There are sufficient paintings and sculptures scattered all over the kingdom to reassure me.
I sigh and settle back into the sunlight. I am just starting to drift off when my favourite brother David arrives in a rush of feet and excitement.
"Look! Look what I made!" David is 10, totally incorrigible and as close to a mechanical genius as I have ever come across. The blacksmiths in the fortress hold him in high regard, as do the jewellers and horologists. He is like a terrier, sniffing into everything, digging up unexpected things. He really is amazing and I am happy to spend time with him especially when faced with the prospect of delivering Janey's latest bombshell.
"What have you made, David?"
"A dart. It flies"
Breathless, excited. "Mrs Jones told me I could only throw it outside and that I should find you and throw it with you."
He waves a piece of paper folded into a dart shape under my nose.
"It flies in the corridors. Far, far. At least 30 paces. Look see."
Saying which he hurled the paper dart out the window just past my nose. The dart did indeed fly. Beautifully, it glided, soared like a tiny bird of prey, circled and then disappeared behind the pinnacle that rises like a fist about 50 paces from my window.
I stare at the pinnacle and soon see the dart still gliding peacefully away until it is too far away to be seen easily.
I am speechless for a long while, then:
"Can you make a couple of those for me?" I ask David.
"Sure. Be right back!" And with that, he disappears.
I look after the rapidly retreating figure and my mind goes into over drive.
Such dart shapes are not unusual but normally they are made of silk, and attached to humans. And those humans hurl themselves out of this very window, get to the pinnacle and fall vertically without going any further. The pilots of such contraptions have then to be scraped off the rocks below. Why do they do it? Simply because there is a reward offered for anyone who could glide safely on a dart to the plains below. Why the reward? A painting in the fortress shows armed men gliding out of my window, past the pinnacle and down to the plains. Such a capability was vastly to be desired. Security, sport and warfare. Hence the reward and all the dead. No one had succeeded. All had died. A simple dart had done it with no trouble.
"I'm back!" David with a hand full of darts and offers me one. As I take it the paper cuts into my finger and I bleed onto the wing of the dart. David looks horrified.
"Sorry!"
"Not your fault. My clumsiness. Lets paint a badge on it." I paint a couple of circles and a bird on the dart with my blood and loft it out of the window.
Like the other it glides perfectly in the up rushing air. Except. Except that it gets to the pinnacle and crashes. Drops like a stone. Like one of the foolish bird men.
David who is unaware of the competition is horrified.
"What went wrong? It was flying perfectly. I made it right. I did. I did."
I stare at the paper dart 100 paces below us and I wonder.
David throws another and this one flies perfectly all the way past the pinnacle. We stare at it disappearing.
"Must have been that blood." mutters David. "Upset the balance or something."
"What blood?" Alice arrives unnoticed.
"I bled on one of David's darts and it made it crash."
"Not surprised. Too much iron in your blood." She smiles away the insult.
"Here, let me try." And before David can stop her she has taken a dart from him. The same paper cut that I got, gets her`
"Ouch!" she says, wipes the blood onto the dart and then throws it.
As before the dart glides beautifully and I wait for it to crash next to the pinnacle. It doesn’t, it goes straight past, gliding beautifully. We stare at the dart until it disappears from view heading peaceably to the plains below.
"Doesn’t make sense." mutters David.
I take another dart and using some of Alice's blood I reproduce as accurately as I can remember the patterns I made on my dart with my blood. I throw it out of the window. It passes the pinnacle without issue.
David shakes his head and then, hearing a clarion call to some other excitement turns and rushes away.
Alice and I sit in silence on the window sill, watching the world go past. She is a peaceable soul and seems quite content to sit with me. She is by far my favourite sister and I am glad she is marrying Paul.
Our quiet contemplation is disturbed by Paul himself. Normally this window is a place where I can get away from it all, but today is an exception. I make space for him. As he sits down a thought strikes me.
"Paul. We trying to prove that some blood is special. I threw one of these darts with some of my blood on it and it crashed. Alice did the same and it didn’t. You reckon it is a womans privilege? Want to help us prove it?"
Paul looks Alice and smiles. "Yeah, sure."
He cuts himself on the paper, draws a badge on the paper and launches the dart. We watch as it glides out of the window and down towards the pinnacle. We hold our breath. The dart circles once before reaching the pinnacle, almost as if it is taunting us and then flies straight on out. Again we watch it disappear into the distance.
"Well, that kills one theory." I say. "I will leave you two together. This is normally a quiet spot for contemplation." and I amble away leaving them to the view.
I go to my rooms, wave everyone away, realise I need to request an interview with Father so I summon my messenger. Aren’t I regal? I have my own personal messenger! And I request some private time with Father.
Then I curl up on my bed and I think, hard.
When the messenger reappears with an appointment for tomorrow morning, I send him off again. I need to speak to Alice urgently, discretely. Instead of the messenger returning, Alice appears.
"What’s up? Requesting an urgent, discreet meeting? You aren’t going to elope with Isadora are you?"
I must look stunned because Alice laughs and collapses in the chair opposite my bed.
"You don’t know that she has wagered good money that she will bed you before Sarah."
Isadora and Sarah are arch enemies. Both are also married. I am confused.
"You are hot property brother. All the ladies of court lust after you."
This is news to me. I shake my head. Alice just laughs.
"You are an innocent aren’t you? Now, what is this urgent, discreet meeting about?"
I blush, stutter. Look for a way out of the corner I have gotten myself into.
"Cummon little brother. It cannot be that serious! Wait. Wait. Janey was seen heading in your direction earlier today. She dump another prophecy on you?"
All I can do is nod.
"Is it really serious? And does it concern me?" Now she starts to look worried.
"It is difficult. Let me ask you a very personal question. Please believe me, I would prefer not to be asking this question, but it seems to be tied into the prophecy. I need an answer from you."
Eyes widening, she only nods.
"Have you slept with Paul yet?" I watch her carefully. She blushes furiously and I hold up my hands. "Enough."
Alice is staring at me with horror. She is supposed not to have slept with Paul until after the nuptials. It would cause even more of a scandal than her marrying Paul.
"Wait. Hear me out." I say as she makes to leave.
She pauses, pale, breathing hard.
"The prophecy in part says "Your sister is marrying a dragon.""
Alice becomes completely still.
"You knew this?"
She nods, makes to speak. I hold up my hand. "Wait. The airborne warriors? They were called dragons."
Alice nods.
"The dragons could fly from the walls of the fortress to the plains. No one has been able to do that for a very long time. Story was that the technique had been forgotten. People have tried and they get brutally stopped at the Pinnacle. Every time. Darts with your blood and Paul’s blood passed right through. Mine didn't. It crashed. You are now part dragon. You could if you were mad enough to try it, glide from here to the plains on a silk wing. The Pinnacle blocks humans that are not dragons from passing. It recognised your blood and allowed the darts through."
"What does the rest of the prophecy say? You owe me that much now."
"Fully: "Your sister is marrying a dragon. This will change things completely. Dynasties will fall, the found will be lost and the lost found."
"Have you told Father yet?"
"No. Tomorrow and I will omit the dragon theory, because that is all it is right now."
She sat there and cried bitter tears. I wished I could hold her, comfort her, tell her it was all nonsense, but it wasn't and I could see far enough into the future to understand that the world we knew and loved was gone and new uncertain one faced us.
She leaves not saying good bye, and I do not try to follow her. I am too heavy hearted to comfort anyone.
I sit as the evening sets in, staring into the distance, not thinking too much. Avoiding the pain.
Isadora storms into my rooms, demanding that I join her and "the rest" to create "an extra special overwhelming tableau to entertain his majesty this evening."
She drags me protesting from my rooms and down into the dining hall where a stage has been set up and a motley bunch of socialites, hangers on and courtiers in varying stages of undress are lolling about.
"The Tableau" Isadora breathlessly tells me "Is to represent the defeat of the dragons."
I am to be the all conquering hero. I need to stand in the midst of the tableau, looking in equal parts ferocious, victorious and compassionate.
I feel none of these things, but propelled by Isadora I take my place and try to look like the legendary hero. As I strike the pose, a hand comes from behind and starts to move slowly and lasciviously up my leg until it reaches my groin. My body starts to react and I grab the offending hand and hold it away.
"Enough!" shouts Isadora and I realise that it is her hand I am holding away from my groin.
"Our hero and I are going to practice together to get his heroic stance just right."
The assembled mass laugh rather coarsely and Isadora starts to drag me away. I am considering the most polite but effective method of stopping her when she comes to an abrupt halt. Janey is standing in her way, looking totally unlike Janey and more like the High Priestess that she is. Standing behind her is Charles, my chamber servant looking triumphant. He prides himself on predicting my needs. This time he has outdone himself. I am not sure how, but he is spot on.
"He is mine.
"What?"
"I said, he is mine. I am entitled to choose any man in the Fortress and I have chosen him."
"But .." Isadora is for once completely at a loss for words.
Janey turns to me. "Come." and walks off as if my acquiescence is a done deal. If I hadn't been threatened with immediately ravishment by Isadora I might have argued the issue, but Janey was a way out of a situation I could seen no escape from.
I bow to to Isadora and the assembled masses, shrug slightly and follow Janey out of the hall.
Janey leads me, not to my chambers but up to the temple, a huge soaring edifice that I have visited only on high days and holidays. I stay clear of the place, so it is not surprising that I am soon lost in a maze of corridors that seem to go on forever.
She opens a nondescript door and ushers me in. It is a simple, sparsely furnished bed chamber.
"Janey? What is going on?"
She smiles and I am pleased to see the Janey I know and love reappear.
"When the high priestess is within two years of her death, she chooses a lover who will sire the a girl child to replace her successor. I have chosen you. Actually I chose you a long time ago and have waited impatiently for this day."
"But," I start out
"Yes, I will die in two years time. You will then go on to marry the woman of your choice and start a family. This is," she says with a naughty twinkle in her eyes "your religious duty" and promptly drops her gown, revealing that she is stark naked underneath.
What could I do? I followed suit.
The next morning I find myself back in my chambers, sleep deprived and anxious because of my appointment with my father the King.
Charles is non committal but I can see amusement in his eyes and followed up by: "Sleep well my Lord?"
I growl at him and he finishes my dressing in silence.
At the appointed time I enter the kings private offices and I am startled to find that the king is not alone. I had asked for a private appointment, but here stands the Chief Librarian, the archivist, the official historian, Master at Arms and a completely out of place David who manages to look smug and overawed all at once.
"My Lord." I start but he holds his hand up.
"Firstly congratulations on being chosen as the high priestesses husband. I am sure that you have and will continue to carry out your duties well." A flicker of laugher enters his eyes.
"Thank you my Lord."
"Now, before you deliver the prophecy that I am sure you are carrying for the high priestess, let me tell you why all these people are here. David started it. After your experiment with blood on those darts of his, he went looking for more information about dragons. Seems he thought that the blood has something to do with dragons. What he didn’t or couldn’t know is that when someone starts asking about less well known books about dragons, the relevant librarian notifies the chief librarian and the chief librarian notifies me and the rest of the people you can see in the chamber. It is an old tradition, rooted in the past but still when the question came up, the notification was carried out. I spoke to David last night and realised that he and you had opened a barrel of potentially lethal hornets. I instructed the archivist and the librarian to search for any forgotten, misfiled, arcane documents relating to the dragons. They invited David to help and again, it was he who found the clue. Dragon books and stories were carefully checked after the elimination of the dragons for any mention that did not fit in with the official version. Such items were destroyed. The check still happens up to this day. What someone forgot to do was to check biographies of soldiers, soldier tales, such things. David, being David decided to look in the biographies and came up trumps."
The king nods to the Librarian and the librarian opens a scruffy, badly preserved object that scarce passes as a book.
"This was written some thirty years after the dragons were exterminated. It was the reminiscences of an old, old soldier and captured by a grandson. The grandson had enjoyed listening to the old man tell his soldiers tales and decided to record them. They tell stories of incidents that happened in the barracks, silly pranks, such things. Old soldiers reminiscences, tall tales, some downright lies. The last chapter of the book." here the librarian shudders at the horror of calling the object a book. "The last chapter is different. The grandchild had collected all the stories the old man had told over the years and decided to push for one more story. Reluctantly the old man told him a story and swore him to secrecy. The grandchild swore and then broke his promise. It is this chapter that is so important. I will read the relevant parts of the story."
The librarian clears his throat, and starts in a surprising clear and strong voice.
"George and I were in the clean up squad. Others had done the awful deed of killing dragons, all we had to do was to collect the bodies from their homes and dump them in the street. Another platoon would come and fetch the bodies. It was horrible in the extreme."
"They kept all the dragons in a separate part of the fortress from the rest of the people so they could catch them easily." David breaking in and getting a fearsome glare from the librarian."
"The dragons had all been killed. Men, women and children. It was horrible to see. After the third house we searched, George and I were nauseated by the job, so we did what all old soldiers did. We carried out the Sarge's orders to the letter. The next house we entered, we removed the bodies, then searched the entire place from top to bottom, slowly, carefully, leaving absolutely no hiding place uncovered. It took a long time. We then moved to the next house, removed the bodies and started our search. We thought we were being careful and missing nothing, but obviously we weren't because just as we were about to leave the house a baby started to cry. I was all for not hearing the baby but George, he had three kids of his own see? He said that he could not leave that baby to cry despite the order to kill any living dragon we came across. We found the child, barely a year old, hidden in the back of a closet. We stared at each other for a long time, the child held between us, then George pulled the child close to his chest and committed us both.
"We can’t!" he said.
I just nodded.
We cleaned the child, found some milk in the cold room and fed her.
She fought against the cold milk at first, but hunger got the better of her and she drank.
George said he knew of a woman who would protect and love the child.
We tied the child onto his back, hooked his tunic over her and he sneaked out of the dragon area.
I was working slowly on the next house when the Sarge asked; "Where is you buddy?" I jumped.
"Well?" The Sarge repeated.
"Gone." Is all I can say, "Gone"
"Where?"
"To the toilet. The bodies make him ill."
The sarge looks sceptical.
"He coming back?"
I find the the sweet spot of any enlisted man. I look over his left shoulder, not looking directly at him. "Yes sarge."
"You not lying to me are you?"
Unexpected. I look at the Sarge. He is crying. Quiet, uncontrolled tears.
"No Sarge!"
He nods, "Well carry on then." and walks away.
George returns and we continue clearing the houses. We find no more living babies. We don’t speak much.
I finish my service and retired. Walking back home one evening from the old serviceman’s club I bump into the Sarge.
He is old and nearing death. We talk of inconsequentialities.
Then: "You lied to me?"
I am unable to defend myself. "Yes."
"Good. The child?" guessing it was a child.
"Married three months ago. Happy, healthy unaware of who she is."
He nods.
I look at the Sarge and see he is once again crying.
"A bad time it was." is all he says."
The librarian stops.
"That is only one story. We do not believe that only one such incident occurred."
The archivist takes over.
"We found three such unexplained family trees in our records. There may be others. The dragons were not exterminated as we believed. They live amongst us. Unacknowledged, but still amongst us. And because we do not believe we are continually on our guard."
The king looks at me. "And your message from the high priestess?"
I hesitate but he waits patiently
"Well?"
I reach into my courage and speak the words that Janey spoke to me.
"Your sister is marrying a dragon. This will change things completely. Dynasties will fall, the found will be lost and the lost found."
Silence rules. I wait.
The king nods.
Silence. No one moves, but David can't sit still.
"Why?"
"Why what?" the king is amused.
"What did the dragons do to deserve such a terrible end?" An adult question from a young boy.
The king stares at him for a long while.
"The Dragons are not people like us. According to legend they are from another world. They are a warrior race who delight in warfare and destruction. They arrived at a time when the kingdom was under deadly threat. They agreed to help defend the kingdom for a fee and then to move on, but they didn’t. They stayed. Started to become part of society. They started to demand power. A pact was agreed that their army should put down a rebellion as a sign of good faith. They were betrayed, their army destroyed and the stragglers killed on the way back. Their families were killed as described in that story. The kingdom was safe. Or so we thought. Seems they left a strain behind."
"There is no way of knowing who bears the strain?" David again.
"Yes, there is. You found it by accident." David looks confused.
"The darts that can pass the Sentinel. Blood is being drawn from everyone right now. Darts are being folded according to your design."
David leaps to his feet, "No! NO!" he screams and runs for the door. A guard catches him and stops him leaving.
"No one leaves until the testing is well under way. It wont take long. It is quite simple and easily applied. Thank you David."
A terrible silence falls. No one speaks. No one looks at anybody else. David has collapsed in on himself. Probably remembering the story of the escaped baby and all those who did not escape.
After what seems like and age, one of the kings advisers arrives and whispers in the kings ear. The message is short and by the reaction of the king it is shocking. He nods and waves the adviser away, then sits staring at the ground.
A short while later, the adviser returns with two very nervous looking people with him, both wearing the gowns of scientists.
"Doctor Shirley Knightly, Mathematician and Doctor Joseph Smythe, Medicine."
They both bow and stand staring at the floor.
"Well?" the king is brusque, impatient.
The doctor coughs and then nervously starts.
"We started taking blood early last night after the Kings command. Because we needed to know who we had tested, we took name, and addresses."
He pauses and the king gestures impatiently
"Yes, yes. Obvious." he snarls "Keep going."
"We had help from the army and the bailiffs. Very efficient they were. We went onto the highways and byways and took anyone we came across and took blood as instructed. We handed the blood over to the guards in batches with an inventory. The inventories came back with either a tick or a cross next to them. And then Doctor Knightly took over and started working out the statistics." He gestured to the mathematician.
She stepped forward and in a calm voice started to speak.
"In the time we have had, we have tested 30% of the population. Three out of ten."
The king nods impatiently, waves her on.
"The people we had inventories for spanned the social strata remarkably well. Out of ever y10 people tested, 5 were working and lower middle class, 3 were middle class and 2 were upper class which is what the last census told us so the scoop of citizens was a good cross section of our population. We found some striking patterns. The proportion of ticks to crosses across the whole population is for every cross there are 4 ticks. In the upper class there are 4 crosses for every tick. Middle class was equal a one to one proportion. The working class was for every cross there were six ticks. Overall over half the population has a tick. If this was a test for an infection, then we have a huge problem."
I get the feeling that the good doctor knows exactly what he had seen, but had been sworn to silence. The look on the mathematicians face merely confirms my suspicion.
The king nods, looks at the guards.
"Take them away. They must talk to no one." The scientists are too overwhelmed to protest and are nearly at the door.
"Stop." The king.
"Did you test yourselves?"
Silence.
"Well?"
The Doctor nods but remains silent.
It is the mathematician who answers.
"He got a cross. I got a tick."
The king nods at the guards and they leave the room. Silence reigns. We wait.
The king sighs and says
"Summon my daughter and her espoused."
The silence holds till the doors open and Alice and Paul enter. They are not alone, Janey the high priestess is behind them.
The king is furious.
"What are you doing here? I did not summon you."
"Your time is over."
The kind looks at Janey then at the guards.
"Kill her."
As he says this, Janey turns to face me. She looks directly at me and raises one eyebrow, challenging. Time slows to a crawl. A guard slowly moves across, grabs her by the hair and pulls her head back, drawing his knife to slit her throat. Something in me clicks and I am moving with a grace and ease I have never felt before. I take the sword from the guard next to me, and while the knife is still rising, I move across the distance between Janey and I, and in a movement of almost balletic grace, slice the head off the still slowly moving guard. Time returns to normal speed. People are shouting, screaming, crying. The king is half out of his seat. To my utter surprise I find the tip of my stolen sword is pressing against the kings throat.
"No one threatens the Queen of Dragons." I know they are my words, because I feel them erupting from me. I just don't recognise anything else. The fury, the command, the calm certainty are all strangers to me.
The king collapses back into his throne and I look around.
Guarding my back and Janey at the same time are Alice and Paul. Swords stolen from the guards.
"Who is next?" snarls Alice. Silence. No one moves.
"Good. Let it known that the king has been thrown down. That Dragon rule is now in force."
"Just four of you? Surrounded by enemies? This is going to last a very short while." the king has found his voice. He sneers. "I will be pleased to see all of your heads on spikes at the gates of the Fortress."
Janey turns to face the king.
"Not just four of us. As your mathematician indicated, 6 out of every 10 of your citizens is a dragon. That includes the army."
"How?" I cannot stop myself. "How did I change?"
Janey laughs, "Before the kingdom tried to exterminate the dragon nation, we created a method of recruitment. Every dragon carries a recruitment gene. Every time a non dragon is intimate with a dragon, they are recruited. I recruited you. Remember our night of passion? It happened then."
Janey looks at the king. Actually the army is rather more than the general general population. All we needed to do was recruit a number of camp followers and the army was recruited pretty thoroughly.
Just then the doors open and contingent of soldiers marches in. The officer in charge nods to the king and the bows to Janey.
"Your orders my lady?"
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