“She mentioned she had a deep secret she was willing to share, so I refused to allow her to tell it to me and place me under her obligation.”
“Naturally.”
“During our benign conversation, she did mention all the people leaving her wing of the palace.”
“More of them than we suspected. The same information came from another’s loose lips, so she confirms the rumor.”
I then told her about the wife of the fur trader in the window observing Tam and me.
“A common gossip,” Elizabeth muttered as I was speaking. “Someone should take the time to shut that woman up before she hurts Tam or you.”
I filled her in on changes to the note, and of the conversation with the fur trader and his wife in case Elizabeth was ever asked about the mythical investigation. Elizabeth’s response was that such an investigation should be undertaken, and she would mention it to her father if the king became well. That way, if it ever came up, he would be aware of it and slough off any suspicion. In addition, if the rumor of Lady Tam and myself was ever circulated, Elizabeth would go directly to the fur trader and his wife and remove their royal commission.
I sat back and waited. A lot had occurred in a single day. A certain dread told me that there was more was to come. Both Elizabeth and Kendra had a glint in their eyes that concerned me. Not a concern of fear, but that they knew something else. Neither had reacted to the information in the way I expected, and that said there were things afoot.
Kendra’s two extended fingers were again held at her side, our signal for a private meeting, and she used them as she pointed to the alcove by the door. A stack of traveling bags and hard-sided luggage was piled there. My leather case was there, and Kendra’s three were piled with Elizabeth’s ten.
On the small table beside the luggage sat a hard-leather case made especially for me. Well, not for me, but for my deadly toys. A few generations ago, crossbows had been introduced to the kingdom, but they were crude and inaccurate. Still, a soldier-recruit could use one with almost no training, and they were more effective than bows in some situations.
They were also large, cumbersome, and ugly. Real warriors hated them because the unskilled could win battles with them. I’d become fascinated with their possibilities a few years earlier. I surreptitiously gathered the various parts from castoffs and broken crossbows, and eventually assembled them into a working weapon. The three of us spent an afternoon mastering its use until we’d either broken or lost the five bolts I’d stolen from the armory. We were interested because there seemed to be a future with a smaller, modified weapon. She allowed me time from my duties to build another.
After adjustments, refinements, and additions, we had one that satisfied our needs. Emeril, the blacksmith who fashioned the king’s weapons, was commissioned with a few of Elizabeth’s coins. He created parts made to my specifications, without knowing their eventual use, but he probably guessed despite our attempt at secrecy. My biggest complaints about crossbows were the weight and size, built for bulky soldiers with little fighting skill. The lack of mobility and the crudeness of construction didn’t help either. A military crossbow could barely be lifted into firing position by a woman. However, when fired, the bolt could penetrate and kill three men before stopping. I questioned why one needed that much power.
Sparing the details of my hundreds of failures, I constructed a smaller weapon, a quarter the size of the military issue. The result was a one-handed weapon with the power to penetrate one man instead of three. It could be cocked quickly; extra bolts hung in small quivers from the waist within easy reach. The tiny crossbows were accurate within twenty paces, no more. Ten paces away were perfect. Kendra had a feel for the new weapon from the first. Elizabeth and I practiced until we equaled her speed reloading and her accuracy.
Returning to the initial subject, I nodded my understanding to Kendra. The leather case meant peril. It contained our three crossbows.
Elizabeth had more maps unrolled on her desk, and I knew at a glance we were traveling west, to the city and province of the same name. Mercia. As if the seven gods of knowledge read my mind, a frightened shout followed by a scream from outside in the courtyard aroused us. I turned to open the door to the terrace as other frightened shouts rang out.
The three of us crowded against each other on the small terrace for a better view of the sky while people outside stopped whatever they were doing to watch. Some pointed upward. A few puffy clouds in that direction drew my attention first, then, off to one side, my eyes spotted movement.
A dragon.
I’d never seen one and wasn’t personally certain they really existed until that moment. However, there was no doubt of what it was. It flew high and far away, the wings pumping up and down in an almost lazy motion despite the immense size of the creature. The body hung low between the massive wings, and as it turned slightly, we saw two legs, no more. A barbed tail swung from side to side. A wyvern. However, to me, it was a dragon and would remain so.
It flew northward, the serpentine neck twisting and turning slowly as it watched the ground below. It never once looked in the direction of the palace. That was until it did.
The head suddenly turned on the end of the long neck and peered directly at the palace. The body shifted until the creature flew directly at us. I had the feeling it looked at me, and probably everyone else in the palace with his or her head tilted to the sky felt the same. The people outside panicked and ran in terror. Within a few heartbeats, the streets were empty. We remained on the terrace, transfixed.
Kendra poked me in my ribs with her elbow and whispered in awe, “A dragon.” She said it as if it was somehow my fault for the thing being there, or at least, that’s the way I interpreted her tone. We had been too stunned to speak. Her poke brought me back to reality.
“Wyvern,” my loose lips automatically corrected her and earned me another jab.
Elizabeth said, “He’s right. Only two legs. And smaller than real dragons.”
“Smaller?” Kendra squealed, her hands raised to cover her mouth in wonder. “That thing is as big as a house.”
“A small house,” Elizabeth answered slyly, just as the beast opened its mouth and roared so loud every bird within half a day’s walk took flight as one. Most people covered their ears and cowered as they watched from the protection of windows set into the stone walls. The dragon searched the ground, then its attention turned back to our terrace.
It shrieked, then turned abruptly away and increased the pumping rate of the wings, looking like a scared small dog when it unexpectedly came up against a larger dog. The dragon turned to look at us a few times while it flew away as if ensuring we were not flying after it. It disappeared from sight after a few moments. The people emerged into the courtyard below, almost shyly. It seemed every person in this wing of the palace had managed to catch at least a glimpse of it, the first wyvern to fly over in memory, and possibly ever.
Kendra said in a wondrous voice, “Princess Anna claims the sky is often blackened with them where she lives. It was beautiful.”
It was not beautiful, but I held my tongue, so I didn’t get jabbed with an elbow again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As if hearing her name mentioned, Princess Anna chose that moment to tap lightly on the door. Kendra’s duty was to greet and announce all visitors, and she stalked to the door, her mind and actions were obviously still centered on the dragon that had flown past. It was a sight to remember, both majestic and fearsome at the same time. As everyone else did, I wondered at the sighting and the timing. Princess Anna arrived for a secret state visit, and the first wyvern in memory flew past as she knocked at our door.