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One of those days

Chapter 5

I woke up refreshed from one of the best sleeps I’d had in years.

Most of the time, I sleep on the edge, the slightest noise waking me to full alertness. Good from a survival point of view, but a real bitch in keeping your body clock regulated. Nothing more exciting than leaping from bed, butt naked, dagger at the ready and pressed against the throat of a startled maid who thought it’d be a good idea to open the windows and let some fresh air in for me to wake to.

We went through a lot of staff that way, unfortunately. Most couldn’t handle the excitement that came with the position.

I was also warm and comfortable, so the thought of getting up and facing an increasingly bleak reality wasn’t overly attractive. Instead, I snuggled back into the covers bunched at my back, which continued radiating an unusual warmth more than welcome on such a chill morning.

I think I must have drunk enough to have killed a mule the previous night, however, as regardless of my refreshing sleep and comfortable setting, I still felt as though a dozen burly knights were battling to the death in my skull. Groaning and with eyes still firmly shut, I reached up a hand, only to strike it against a heavy drape covering my face.

Curiousity overcoming misery, I cautiously cracked open an eyelid to blink back grainy tears, mind having issues placing the muted dull red glow before me, inches from my face. Running fingers across the heavy surface, I froze as it twitched away, as a heavier weight squeezed my waist a moment, before releasing.

What the…

Oh shit…

What I had assumed were the bunched sheets against my back stirred further, as the dragon shifted, warm fragrant breath ruffling my hair as he let out a soft sigh. Wide eyed, I struggled to recall what the hell had landed me in this position, vague memories surfacing of my inebriated entry into his room during the night, and I cringed inwardly in embarrassment at my lapse of judgement.

Perhaps it was the change in my breathing or lack of movement that alerted Argy to my wakeful state. I felt the muscles against my back tighten momentarily, then my face was flooded with light as his wing lifted to refold behind his bulk.

The arm around my waist took longer to leave, and he sighed again before releasing me, allowing me the opportunity to rise and sit beside him, gazing down at his face as it rested on the floor beside me. He didn’t meet my eyes, which had me quirk my lips in amusement, the thought of an embarrassed dragon rather endearing. So, I thought what the hell, it probably couldn’t get any worse, and reached down to rub him behind the ears, a gesture that startled him, although it only took a moment before he closed his eyes, thrumming in pleasure.

“Sleep well?” I finally asked, and he finally opened thick lids to return my gaze, nodding.

“Thank you.” He murmured finally, ears dropping as he muttered “I didn’t expect….”

Shrugging, I avoided replying and returned to scratching him again, hoping I wasn’t breaking any particular dragon taboos, but he didn’t seem to mind, leaning his neck back to give better access to an itchy spot.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you make a comfortable bed. I haven’t slept that well in a while” I replied eventually, receiving a very dry look in return, before it turned thoughtful.

“You don’t normally sleep soundly, do you?” he asked, and it was my turn to look away.

“No, not normally. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”

Sighing, he rolled onto his stomach, thrusting his paws forward to stretch like a feline, claws retracted to avoid scoring the floor. When his neck followed, head arched as he pulled his body into shape, I snorted and muttered “I wasn’t the only one who slept well, I think.”

He froze, turning his face to me indecipherably, and then shrugged. “Yes. It has… been a while. I slept well, without the dreams that lately… Well, it was a nice change.”

Flushing again, I rose, realising with a start I was quite naked. It hadn’t dawned on me given I was distracted elsewhere until then, not to mention terminally hung over, but the more pragmatic part of me shrugged off the thought. Hell, wasn’t the first time I’d woken somewhere surprising butt naked, and likely not the last, although my choice of bed fellows wasn’t normally this exotic. More embarrassing was the fact I then caught him looking at me curiously, quickly turning away when he realised I’d noticed his stare, to find intent fascination with the fabric of the nearby curtain drapes.

Teach me to sleep with a voyeur dragon, I snorted to myself dryly, getting up to stretch, then stepping towards my room to find some clothes. “Better get up, it’s later than it looks. Dad will be expecting a report of what happened last night.”

I didn’t turn to see him nod, as he clambered to his feet and heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

I was an early riser, usually. Whether it was the sun coming in the window, or those damned sex-starved pigeon’s making a ruckus on the sill outside, either way the crack of dawn was my normal morning chorus. On this day, it was late morning before I finally left my room, a long, hot bath having relieved the worse of my aches, although my pounding head still left a lot to be desired.

I found the dragon waiting patiently in the informal living area in my bedroom, head low over a book he’d taken from my bookcase library. He didn’t look up as I stepped into the chamber, intent on the pages, and I watched him absently lick a dextrous claw to flick to the next page before clearing my throat.

Slamming the book shut he looked a bit guilty as he made to return it to its place on the shelf.

“I didn’t know you could read human books!” I blurted out a bit inappropriately, a thought he obviously shared as his brow rise wryly.

“I can read your language, Camilla. It was one reason I was chosen to come to these lands. While many of my kind can speak your language, few bother to learn to read it.”

Curious, I asked “Do you speak many other languages?” and he nodded, sitting back to tick off a few on his paw.

“Human, elvish, a bit of dwarf, and a few words in troll, although they’re somewhat useless in general conversation, even with other trolls. It’s hard to hold a dialogue when your vocabulary consists of ‘rock, fire and smash!’”

“You do amazingly well with human, though.” I offered, and he shrugged. “My tutor was human, so he had a bit of an advantage.”

Incredulous, I leaned against the back of a chair and asked “You have humans there? Why do none of us here know about your kind then?”

Grinning toothily, he shrugged. “Because we prefer it that way. The few humans who have been welcome in the kingdom do so on the understanding that we want such contact to be limited.”

I was going to ask why, but the question didn’t need it. Had the dragon kingdom been general knowledge, they wouldn’t have been left in peace for very long. If not merchants trying to score a quick buck, it’d be the religious nutters ready to crusade to exorcise the demon dragons from their own lands.

“I can understand that. Sort of suggests you’re pretty damn desperate to ask for our aide now, Argy. I wouldn’t trust most humans to save myself.”

Cocking his head, he met my eyes as he replied. “We do not have a choice. Besides, I do not make the mistake of trusting humans. I trust you. That is enough.”

Speechless, I didn’t know how to reply to that, wondering if the dragon’s faith was really well placed, but at that moment, a maid entered, startled to see the dragon crouched on the rug near the fireplace, to ask us if we wanted to join Dad for an early lunch. Good timing, I thought, not willing to consider the dragon’s response any deeper than I needed to, right at that moment.

The overnight weather had cleared, sunlight warm but not overly hot as we passed through the bustling kitchen outside to the garden. While never the one to care about most people’s opinion, Dad did have the dubious honour of being the source of several popular trends circulating over the years, the latest the most copied. “Outdoor dining” they called it in the wider circles, although its origin in our household was less flamboyant. Eating out in the weather, be it sunny or pissing rain, was par and part of a thief’s lifestyle, and Dad had simply made it more “upmarket” in introducing it into the keep. Plus, while he’d never admit it, he found all that closed, indoor living claustrophobic, much preferring to eat and do business out in the open.

We found him underneath a small arboretum he’d had constructed overlooking the keep’s lake, expansive views rather pretty, with the swans swimming, and the ducks, and long reeds and such. Personally, it didn’t do much for me, as I’d much rather hunker down in a crooked bar, drinking rat-tainted beer and winning a rigged card game, but each to their own. I guess Dad just had more of that than I had over the years, and had expanded his views some in a way I had yet to yearn for.

The table had been set for the three of us, he and I reclining in comfortable high back chairs, although he’d had a padded quilt brought out for Argy, who nodded in appreciation at the courtesy. We exchanged a little small talk for a few minutes as we polished off the light lunch, nothing fatty thankfully as my queasy stomach wasn’t up for anything too robust. Sandwiches, and some diced fruit with chilled sorbet settled me significantly, and I took a few sips of my wine to calm my nerves, deciding that what had caused my gastric discomfort might as well have a go at removing it.

Dad still did that to me, unfortunately. Any debriefing left me sweating, as he always questioned the finest details, looking for anything that could have been done better. Given no one could match his skills in the area, there was always something, and occasionally the dressing down over stupid technicalities left me fuming.

The fact that those small technicalities could be the difference between life and death didn’t help any.

Argy didn’t speak during the meal, avoiding eye contact with my father who pretended not to notice. I had absolutely no delusion he knew exactly where I had spent the night, as there was little that he missed here in the keep or elsewhere. Given it was none of his damned bloody business, I hope he’d keep his mouth shut and, thankfully, he did, not mentioning it during the subsequent conversation, although I did catch him shooting me an appraising eye when he thought I was distracted eating.

Once the meal finished and the plates were removed, we didn’t have the luxury of further distraction, and I decided to just get it over with, filling Dad in on our evening’s experience, although glossing over the more sordid details of my extended discussion with the dickhead young noble I’d flattened.

He caught my hedging, though, lips tightening when I failed to mention the incident, and I winced again, knowing it’d come back to bite my arse at some stage in the future. Still, with company present, I was spared such excitement, and the conversation turned instead to what the King might do to handle Argy’s problem.

Turning to the till-now silent dragon, Dad pursed his lip and asked “What do you make of the King’s response, Argyros?”

Startled at his sudden inclusion in the conversation, the dragon spluttered into his drink, eventually recovering his aplomb enough to reply “I think he will defer the situation to you, Sir. I had the impression he was reluctant to involve himself in the situation, but would still do what he could to aid my people even if it meant doing so indirectly.”

Nodding, Dad raised his glass and said “A good assessment, I’d day. I would expect to hear from his royalness within the next few days, directing us to raise a pledge of men at arms and enough equipment to return with you to aide your people’s predicament. The question remains, however, who will lead them, Cam?”

Spluttering into my own drink in turn once his words sunk in, I gave my father an aghast look! “Oh no! Come on, Dad! I don’t know the first thing about leading soldiers!”

“You won’t need to, Cam.” He said patiently, although his eyes tensed in that way where I knew he was a little annoyed at my reply. “You would be there to ensure those who are leading the soldiers do what they’re supposed to do, and nothing more. You keep them in line, so they don’t make an embarrassment of the throne. I know how you hate these sort of assignments, Cam, but my answer remains the same. Can you name someone else who could do a better job of that?”

Angry, I pointed at him. “You, for starters! You have the experience, and they wouldn’t dare contradict you!”

Shrugging, Dad leaned back and replied “Sure, I could. That would leave our holdings here at the mercy of everyone who decided a little retaliatory response while our backs were turned would be worthwhile, as well as bump us even further away from the neutral position I try and keep with his highness. Both would leave us screwed, Cam, as you well know. So again, who else should I send?”

Speechless, I glared at him, ignoring the reproachful gaze from the dragon. When no relief was forthcoming, I threw my glass down to the ground in a shattered spectacle and stormed off to lose myself in the garden, ignoring for the present the pair of them.

It took a while, but I finally found an isolated spot, somewhere I knew well and a long way from the lake side. I dropped to a bench seat in a small oubliette I’d haunted as a child, knowing I’d cop an earful when I returned, which made my ill temper even worse. The real shitter was that he was right, of course. There probably wasn’t anyone else, and he really wasn’t in a position to leave, now or in the immediate future. Even the King would be unlikely to attempt to change his mind, knowing it’d destabilise the kingdom unwisely.

I dropped my head into my hands, ignoring my real desire to curse loudly to the Gods at the injustice of it all, and instead worked through it in stages. I hated dealing with this sort of shit outside my comfort zone, which was in a civilised society, surrounded by the thieves and pimps and gutter trash I’d been brought up with. Even the thought of being thrown into the deep end, associating with creatures in a society I had no real understanding of, and leading a group of male chauvinist troglodyte soldiers whose idea of chivalry was wiping up with the bed sheets after laying a prostitute, was most unappealing.

Of course, there was Argy, the thought crept into the mix, and I sighed again, reluctant to admit I actually liked the dragon. Still, ambassador or not, I needed to consider if I could rely on a creature I barely knew, who was about as alien to my experience as I could imagine, to cover my back in such a dangerous situation.

I’m not sure exactly when I decided I could, but I didn’t feel any better for the revelation.

A good half hour must have passed before a dark shadow blocked my morning sun and I glanced up, startled, as the dragon dropped with a loud flap of wings to the grass beside me with an audible thump.

“That’s cheating, you know?” I muttered darkly, and he shrugged, flapping his limbs before settling the large wings against his back.

“These aren’t just decorations, and you did leave in a bit of a hurry.”

Grumpy, I argued “Dad sent you after me?”

Shaking his head, Argy denied the accusation. “No. I sent me to follow you. He went inside saying he was going to send a message to the King to confirm you had agreed to accompany me home.”

Pissed off now, I turned my head to spit into the grass, the bad taste in my mouth failing to leave. “Bastard!” I muttered again, getting a concerned look from the dragon, who stepped closer and bent down as I dropped to the seat again. After a moment, he said softly “You do not have to accompany me, if you do not want to.”

Staring him full in the face, I stated “Do you want me to?”

It didn’t take a magician to read the expression on his face, which was more reply than I needed.

“Shit!” I said quietly, not happy at all. But I was cornered on every front, as Dad more than knew, so I scratched short fingernails through my hair and gave up.

“Alright, I’ll go. I don’t have a choice, and I know it. But I expect you to pull your own weight, Argy. I can’t do this alone. If you’re not backing me, I’m screwed. More to the point, we’re all screwed. I’m relying on you!”

Nodding sombrely, he agreed. “Of course.” And I knew he meant it, mores the pity.

I just hope he truly understood the true depth of the shit we were getting ourselves into.

If the dragon had a thought that everything would be pulled together in a couple of weeks and we’d be packed up and on our way in double time, he soon enough got over it.

There were a million different challenges to overcome, and every arsehole in the kingdom seemed to be getting their jollies throwing hurdles at our plans. In the end, after I resorted to punching out a few of the more obstinate, laying them out cold before their contemporaries, the hassles began to decline somewhat, and we started making leeway.

First, we had to wait for the King’s formal approval. Not that it stopped Dad from commencing the preparations. He had a “do it now, ask for forgiveness later” relationship with his Majesty, who thankfully trusted Dad enough to look the other way or plead ignorance when howls of complaint began pouring in from those Dad was grinding beneath his heel.

The Nobles were the worst, with the fingers not already shoved up their arses thoroughly involved with every aspect of the local market. Dad knew the King would supply the men themselves. What we needed was equipment, weapons, food, transport and a dozen other categories of items. Not the sort of thing the keep’s quartermaster was used to procuring at the drop of a hat, so a lot of pull was needed to make these items begin to appear in a timely manner.

Dad had the pull. He also had the threat backing it up. Most people weren’t stupid enough to openly confront him, but their clandestine interference was still difficult enough. That’s where I, unfortunately, came in.

Putting out spot fires with merchants and tradesfolk became my new specialty, after thieving and killing, of course. Sometimes it was as simple as lining a few pockets with some silver. At other times, it was a dark alley and a sharpened blade, not always wet in flesh, but so long as the threat was present, it did wonders for many people’s obstinacy.

My silver shadow accompanied me, of course. We argued about it at times, as while he could move surprisingly quietly for such a large creature, it was a little hard to sneak around in the dark with a big silver shiny-scaled lizard tagging along. One beam of moonlight, and his hide shone up like a torch. Eventually, he took the hint and agreed to stay close, but out of sight, during my more sneakier endeavours. But I had to admit, when confronting some obstinate arsehole who refused to accept my authority, having him shove his snarling visage into the picture sure did a good job of changing their minds. The fact that he and I both knew he wasn’t that serious about being threatening didn’t need mentioning.

The other delay was that winter had definitely set in the kingdom with a vengeance. Snow flurries made progress through the town increasingly difficult, and while I had the luxury of rugging up with heavy clothing, Argy wasn’t so fortunate. We tried a few different things on him, most of which looked ludicrous and were ineffective, and in the end the best we could come up with was a heavy woollen cape-like thing my Dad’s tailor made out of oilcloth that at least kept the worst of the weather off him. It hindered his wings, tended to get caught on everything, and looked ridiculous, but it was still better than freezing to death.

Besides, seeing him flourish the thing before a large mirror, neck raised and stretched to catch his own reflection in the best light, while raising an eye ridge suggestively to me reflecting my own humour, had me in stitches.

The first day ended an onerous afternoon, which had seen us secreted with some of the leaders of the King’s own guards, determining a plan for moving forward. It was stupid, boring, but essential work, and I loathed it totally. Argy fared better, at least keeping busy supplying the group with information about what we’d face during our travels and when we arrived. I wasn’t really much help, and I hated feeling useless. The thought of overdoing the wine again was tempting, but knowing the repercussions I’d receive from Dad later wasn’t worth it. So, we sat, and talked, and talked some more, and even more, but by the time the evening was winding down, we had formulated some ideas that might eventuate into actual plans, eventually.

Once the men had left, I found myself accompanying a tired looking dragon back upstairs, whose limp wings matched my own shoulders. Having earlier eaten my fill from the trays of food supplied by the kitchen staff, I just wanted to crash and sleep off the stress.

Perhaps it was my mood that stifled conversation between us, but we didn’t exchange any small talk as we made our way upstairs to the living quarters, until Argy paused before his own room, paw on the door handle as he gave me an uncertain look.

We hadn’t spoken about the previous evening. We simply hadn’t the time. But I found myself loitering in the hall, avoiding the curious look he gave, until I turned back, catching him staring in return, and a snigger crept from my lips.

He returned it, lip curled and sharp teeth flashing, before cocking his head questioningly and opening the door wide.

I paused a moment, undecided, and then caved in, pressing past his bulk to enter his room as he closed the door behind us.

There was nothing sexual about it. Not then. We shared the bed, our warmth, and each other’s company, and I woke refreshed as I never had previously. No nightmares, no cold sweats. Just a deep, restful sleep.

I tried not to analyse it any further than I needed to. Perhaps even then, my subconscious was messing with me.

It wasn’t the last time, either. Over the following weeks, as we worked together, I found myself forgetting that he was what he really was. Not just some guy who was working with me to complete a big project. Not a colleague bent on competing for a job.

He was a dragon, for Pete’s sake! He was big, and scaly, and breathed fire, God damn it! He was an alien creature, and we should have had nothing in common apart from working together.

But the longer we did, the less I began noticing those things, and eventually I had to admit to myself, he was fast becoming something I had never had, and had always feared finding.

He was becoming a friend.

Fuck, people in my line of work didn’t make “friends”! Friends got you in trouble. They distracted you from the job at hand. They pretended to watch your back, but stabbed you when you weren’t looking. Dad had always warned me of them, and I’d never saw reason to consider otherwise.

You couldn’t trust them. Not if you wanted to keep living.

It was a rule I had never broken, for anyone. Never.

I pretended the loneliness was nothing more than a weakness, to be avoided.

I was twenty six. I had many lovers over the years, and knew countless people.

I just never had a friend. Hell, I never even truly knew I wanted one!

Shit.

But it never stopped me from accepting his unvoiced invitation of an evening, without hesitation.

I suppose lying to myself had just become second nature to one who spent so much time lying to others.

Weeks dragged into months, and the weather grew worse, inclement as had not been experienced for years. “Once in a generation” the old timers called it, as howling winds blew flurries of sleet and snow in blizzard-like proportions to coat the keep in a blanket of white and ice.

If it hadn’t been so dangerous, I might have considered it beautiful. In any other circumstance, anyway.

But too many died that winter; the poor, the old and the infirm; to consider it such a blessing.

It was only as the weather finally broke, and all our planning went from ideas to actuality, that I realised the time to leave was drawing near.

We had the men, and the equipment. We just had to wait for the opportunity to leave.

Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to it.

Perhaps that was the cause of the distraction which led to such a disaster.

But I guess there are some things in life you simply cannot avoid, which were destined to be.

Even when you wanted to.

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Authors note:

So, a cliff hanger. Not like I've ever done that before.

The next chapter things happen. Very violently.

Probably more violently than I have ever written, actually.

Story is getting a little too sugar coated. It needs a reality check

As we know, reality is a bitch.

Gonna make it my bitch!