Dragon Eyes

Chapter 16.

Royal Secrets.

King Farran marched back into the palace, tired and filled with rage. His wife, Queen Rohesia met him in the hall. Her blue eyes were drowsy and her brown hair was still tied up in a braid, with her night camp resting elegantly on her head. The long, silk dressing gown swished gracefully as she walked up to greet her husband.

“What is all the commotion about?” Rohesia demanded of her husband, her voice filled with sleep. “It is five in the morning for heaven’s sake and the entire palace is in an uproar.”

“Wilheard!” Farran snapped at her. “He found out.”

The queen gave a quiet gasp, and looked around. Taking her husband by the arm she led him out of the hall and into her private chamber. It was a neatly furnished room, with paintings and carpets on the walls that gave it a cozy atmosphere and kept the ceiling from seeming too high and the windows from seeming too large. An enormous bed stood unmade in the corner, showing how the queen had only moments ago risen from it. A large fire roared in the fire place, and Rohesia had her husband sit down next to it. From her dressing table Rohesia retrieved a bell and summoned a servant.

“The king has been out in the rain, fetch him some dry clothing and be quick about it!”

The servant nodded his head and scurried off.

Shutting the door securely, Rohesia turned to her husband. “How?”

Farran lifted his eyes from the fire to gaze at his wife. “He got the letter. I have no idea how it weaseled his way into the palace and how it got into his hands, but he got it, and after reading it he marches up to me at this ungodly hour and completely loses it. He was fortunate I was held up with business and did not retire this night. What a sight it would have been indeed if he had burst into my bedchambers and wake me up with his demands and shouts. Insolent boy, he knows nothing of manners.”

Rohesia shook her head and took seat in a small but comfortable divan that stood not far from the fireplace. “What did you do with him?”

“What do you think I did?” The king raised his voice at her, he was in a terrible temper and made no effort to try and calm it. “I put him in the dungeon for now. Would you have done something different? Perhaps sent him off to bed with a cup of warm milk and honey to help him sleep.”

Rohesia kept her cool, despite her husband’s short tongue. “So what was the commotion in the garden then?”

“Collyn!” Farran spat the name out in disgust. “I almost had her, there was nowhere for her to run and then...”

“Then?” Rohesia raised her eyebrow.

“Some boy on a dragon appeared and swept her out of the garden.”

Rohesia’s dark blue eyes widened at her husband. “I beg your pardon?” She coughed, blinking several times in confusion.

“Which part of my last sentence did you not understand?” Farran shouted at her, leaping from his seat. “A boy, on a dragon, flew down from the sky, and swept her out of the garden!”

Gritting his teeth in an attempt to control his rage, Farran marched out of his wife’s chamber. Rohesia tapped her fingers on the arm of the divan, deep in thought. Reaching for the bell, she rang it and waited impatiently for her maid to appear.

“You called, my lady?” A timid voice said. Raising her head, Rohesia glared at the trembling, sleepy maid.

“Bella,” she coldly addressed the servant. “His majesty is in a terrible humor and as such I find it necessary to rise early today. Fetch me my morning dress, the violet one, and have a bath drawn for me and be quick about it. We’ve already lost the summer villa due to that man’s uncontrollable temper, the last thing I need is for him to burn the palace down as well.”

The maid nodded her head and scurried off. When the king’s temper went off, everyone, save the queen trembled, because there was no telling what he would do.

***

Farran had taken the liberty of changing from his wet tunic and now paced the throne room. It was a grand hall, with a high ceiling and artful, stained glass windows. Tapestries covered the stone walls, telling in their bright and colored pictures tales and legends of Northurst. The marble floor was laid out in a pattern, with a long red carpet leading from the main doors all the way up to the three majestic thrones that stood at the far end of the hall. The two larger ones were built a good five steps from the floor, while the third was situated between them and was three steps lower. Pausing for a second, Farran gazed at wooden thrones, covered with gold and precious stones.

“I work too hard for this throne,” he grumbled. “I schemed, I planned, I fought, and I will not give it up. I thought I stamped the plot out, Coldbert is banished, the rest of the men are tucked away in the dungeon for now, but no, Wilheard has to get involved, and then a dragon appears. Right when we were sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there were none left, for over two hundred years there hasn’t been one single spotting and then, bam, he shows in my garden and saves my stupid, good for nothing niece!”

“Tsk, tsk, Father, talking to yourself yet again? I hope this is not a sign that you are completely losing your mind. It is known to happen to people at your age.”

Farran spun around to face the youth who had spoken so rudely to him.

“Oliver, when will you ever learn to control that tongue?” He shouted at his son. “Can you not see I am in a foul disposition and your foolish words are only making it worse?”

The young prince laughed and went to take his place in the chair situated between the thrones of his mother and father. Oliver was the only son of the king and queen, and heir to the throne of Northhurst. He had the black hair and fair brow of his father, but the deep blue eyes and sharp nose and chin of his mother. Standing as tall as his father, his build was lean but strong, and he had the bearing of a prince and of royalty.

“What happened this time to get you so upset?” Oliver questioned once he had settled comfortably.

“Wilheard is plotting against me,” Farran snapped, resuming his pacing. “He would take my crown if I but gave him the chance.”

“Wilheard?” Oliver burst out laughing. “Father, you know better than I that Wilheard never once showed the slightest regard for you crown or your kingdom, all my cousin wants is to be popular and have a good time.”

“Times are changing, Oliver, and you would have noticed by now if you bothered to even take a glance into the realm of politics. But no, all you can do is run around chasing boars and women. Your cousin has had a terrible effect on you, but now that I have gotten him out of the way perhaps there is hope to turn you into some kind of a monarch. Our only real threat is the dragon.”

“Dragon!” Oliver’s eyes lit up. “What dargon?”

“Don’t you know, haven’t your heard?” Farran’s pacing ceased and he glared at his son.

“I just got home this night,” Oliver backfired, “and I had hoped to sleep in, but all the commotion woke me up and I decided to find out what was wrong. Where is Wilheard? He wasn’t in his room.”

Farran rolled his eyes. “Some boy on a dragon flew down from the sky and kidnapped Collyn.”

“What did the dragon look like?” Oliver’s eyes were getting more and more exciting.

“Red, I think,” Farran snapped. “Ask Malcom or one of the other guards, they had a better view of it.”

Oliver rose from his chair, his whole body shaking with agitation. “It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t! I must find Wilheard, he will be so shocked to hear the news.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Wilheard and myself just returned from the Northern Mountain Range,” Oliver began.

“I know that,” Farran cut him off. “I told you not to take him there, but you didn’t listen to me.”

“Rumors of a dragon reached us, Father, it would have been a crime to stay at home. If we ride out now, we may be able to track him down.”

“You aren’t going anywhere!” Farran ordered. “Your little adventure in the Northern Mountain Range nearly lost me the crown! I told you to stay away, I warned you; you nearly played Wilheard right into the hands of the plotters. Don’t you realize your cousin is out to rob you of the kingdom?”

Now it was Oliver’s turn to roll his eyes. “As I have said before, my forgetful Father, Wilheard never has cared two gold coins for the crown, and even if madness did suddenly strike at him in the dark, he would never rob me of the kingdom. Sure, he may want to get rid of you, he doesn’t like you very much, but even if he did decide overthrow you, he would not be king. Rather he would place me on the throne. I am the rightful heir after all, and Wilheard respects the traditions of our land with great reverence. It is one of the many things we share in common. So if you fear for your crown, then be my guest, I am quite safe from my cousin and so will seek him out and recruit him to help me find the dragon, it will be the hunt of the century!”

Oliver’s careless attitude towards something so serious was more than Farran could handle. He marched up to the boy and grabbed him roughly by the collar.

“Sometimes I wonder,” he hissed into his son’s face. “How a man as successful as myself could have fathered such a fool! You are not the rightful heir, and Wilheard has only recently been made known of this fact. He is now your enemy and if you don’t plan your actions right, you will never be king!”

“Farran!” The stern voice of Queen Rohesia sounded out. “Let Oliver go.”

Farran growled but obeyed his wife and released his grip on his son. Oliver straightened out his collar, his eyes fixed on his father in confusion. He wasn’t the rightful heir? Where did that unexpected information come from?

Rohesia walked up to her husband and son, her gaze stern and reproachful. The violet color of her gown accented out the blue in her eyes, and the braided bun on her head brought out the sharp features of her nose and chin. “Oliver, how many times have I told you that when you see your father is angry you should stop talking? Remember what happened last time the two of you had a conversation? Now we have had to raise the taxes in order to repair the summer villa and what is worse, I am forced to spend the summer here in Arrol. You know I despise the city in summer. And you,” she turned to Farran, “sit down before you destroy something again.”

Farran breathed angrily and walking up to his throne slumped into it.

“Can someone tell me what on earth is going?” Oliver glanced at his parents in confusion. “Just last night Wilheard was my friend and companion, what would have suddenly made him hate me so?”

“Wilheard and Collyn both come before you,” Faran stated, resting his head in his hand. “I’ve got Wilheard in the dungeon and can dispose of him, but while the little tramp is free, you have a rival for the throne.”

Oliver still couldn’t understand where all this was coming from, “but on his deathbed Uncle Elhon said...”

“Forget what Elhon said,” Farran thundered at him. “You weren’t even around when he died! You know nothing, Oliver, because you care for nothing!”

Rohesia shook her head, “I told you to dispose of those two long ago, but you kept them anyway. This is what happens when men don’t listen to their wives.”

“I couldn’t get rid of them, Rohesia, it would cause too much suspiscion,” Farran reminded his wife. “After Katherine died everyone was whispering how I had done it. I had to show some kind of compassion towards my brother’s children or you would not be queen of Northurst, but languishing away in exile. And we were safe as long as the truth remained hidden. Wilheard never cared for the throne; Collyn never cared for anything at all, so there was no threat. I was sure I had buried the evidence, but no, it resurfaced from somewhere.” Farran let out a frustrated sigh. Rohesia walked up, and sitting down in her throne, placed her hand over her husband’s.

“All is not lost, Farran,” she whispered to him. “Where there is a will there is a way and we have enough will between us to carve a way straight through the mountain if we have too.”

Oliver realized that there was a lot more involved than he had ever realized. The young prince had never really bothered with his father’s world of politics; he was still young and wanted to enjoy his carefree years before becoming burdened with the bothersome cares of ruling. Now suddenly everything was changing. Wilheard was in prison, Collyn had been kidnapped by a dragon, and his parents were speaking of how they should have killed both his cousins a long time ago. Something was definitely afoot, and Oliver was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Father, Mother, what is going on?” He cautiously asked.

Farran and Rohesia exchanged glances. “Have a seat, Oliver,” Rohesia said, “there is a story your father needs to tell you, and I’m thinking now is the time for you to hear it. Only beware, whatever your father discloses must never go outside this little circle; it is our family secret, and none but our family is to ever find out. Farran,” she turned towards her husband. “Tell the boy, he needs to know if he wishes to be king.”