---Chapter 10

Ah, loss is a bitter thorn, pricking no matter how you try to grasp the bush. But worse is the fruit of betrayal that often hangs on the same stems. --

Anton Minestrone, Chronicler of Shard

I stepped up beside the gruesome head and gazed across the room. In the center of the space stood a black throne, intricately carved with vines and leaves on its legs and back. A fair, slim body dressed in black lay sprawled beside it, a fine silver sword still clutched in one hand. Above the corpse stood Shyven, his clothes cut about with minor wounds and a smug expression on his face. He was carefully running a handkerchief down the blade of his own sword, wiping a dark residue away.

He saw me and looked up with a tight smile. “Ah, Gray One. You came. As you can see, my mission has been completed.”

I looked at him flatly. “So you are the assassin, Bladehunt.”

“That’s what they call me, in my Assassin’s guild.” He shrugged, twirling his blade over to wipe the other side. “But my birth name is Shyven.”

“You are the chief of the Assassin’s guild?”

He nodded. “Yes. Melleus overstepped his bounds, pursuing you when I had ordered him not to. He was always a rebel, jealous of my position. But, as you can see--”

He pointed his blade at the body of the Ebony Queen. “The prophecy cannot come true now.”

“Prophecy?”

The smile widened on Shyven’s face. “You never heard it? Well, it is very recent. One of the king’s favorite oracles prophesied that a Dragonbound man would put a queen on the throne to rule. Afraid this meant that his runaway wife would depose or murder him, he sent an assassin to stop the prophecy from ever coming true. His own stupid pet assassins failed years ago, when he sent them to find her in Daggasta. She had already fled. So he dropped it for the time. But when the prophecy of a Dragonbound man putting her on the throne came about...well, he decided to choose the best, no matter the price.”

I felt my jaw tighten in anger, looking at his smug expression. He had hid so much from me, making me think that we were going to save the Ebony Queen. But now I knew why I had dreamed of her and seen her in visions for so long. She had been calling me to her aid. Instead, I had brought her destruction.

“Why didn’t you just kill me when you could? I am the Dragonbound man in the prophecy.”

“But not the only one available.” Shyven stepped over to pick up a ring of fire, which lay glistening on the floor. The Queen’s crown, made of a mystical shard. Holding it in his hand, he added, “a new Dragonbound could be exiled at any time. There is no proof that the prophecy meant you. Safer to destroy the source itself. Kill the queen before she can take the throne. Besides...it is what I was hired to do. The king never said anything about fighting Dragonbound men on my way.”

As he was talking, I noticed a faint movement from a table at the back of the room. It was draped in a black cloth with silverware laid out on it as if for breakfast. Something had just twitched the cloth, moving it as if to peer out from behind.

Shyven followed my gaze but appeared not to notice as the cloth fell back into place. Turning back to me, he added, “the crown shall be proof that she is dead. But you have helped me greatly on my quest, Gray One. We have been partners in everything. Just because the result differs from what you expected does not mean you can not share in the rewards. Come with me. The king need not know that you are Dragonbound.”

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I looked slowly up at him and shook my head. I had not come to destroy. Though I did not know her, my whole heart had called out to help the queen. Ever since I had first seen her. Now she was dead.

“No.”

“Very well. Then stay here and take what you wish as a reward. The house is open to you.” Shyven started to walk past me, carrying the crown with him. “I must thank you for your company, Gray One. I truly enjoyed it. But now I must hurry back and tell the king the good news before anyone else reaches him. Farewell.”

“Farewell, Shyven.”

The chief assassin strolled away, heedless of his own cuts and scrapes as he stepped over the bodies of the many guards he had killed. I watched him go, hearing the sound of his footsteps recede down the hall, up the carpeted steps and away. Once he was gone, I walked over and crouched beside the cloth-draped table with a sigh.

“You can come out now. The assassin is gone.”

“What about you?”

“I never wanted to harm the queen. I will not hurt you.”

My words must have carried the conviction I felt. The cloth was pulled aside by a small, delicate hand and a girl of about nine years crawled out from under the table. Tears streaked down her fine face. Her long red-gold hair was in a tangle.

“He killed my mother. I hate him.”

“I know.” Gently, as if she were a wild animal I had found injured in the woods, I held out an arm to her. The princess fell forward against my shoulder and burst into tears. I ran an awkward hand through her gleaming hair, thinking that she took after the king in that feature rather than her mother. When she was through sobbing, I picked her up and started to walk across the room.

“we must leave now.”

She slid her hand around my neck and I tensed for a moment as it touched the dragon’s mark, but then relaxed and let her. It did not matter what she saw. We were both dead, or worse, if the king heard that we were in his realm.

She turned her head and looked at the back of my neck for a long moment, then swung her glistening eyes to look into mine. “You came. Mommy always said you would come to help us. She said that you were coming soon...now I know I can trust you.”

And she leaned her head back on my shoulder with a trust so touching that it brought tears to my own eyes.

I found my way out of the house carrying her. The princess was so light and slim that I hardly felt the extra weight. After crossing the courtyard, I stepped through the little door onto the path, then walked around towards the drive. We would have to get away from here, far away, before anyone came looking. The princess was in grave danger, but she was also young. I worried about how we would travel until we could reach my gypsy wagon.

I came around the corner of the castle wall and stopped, staring at the drive in astonishment. Sitting in the middle of it was the wagon, Dee whinnying gladly to see me. My gaze shifted from him up to the driver on the seat.

It was Anna.

Her impish face turned to me with a patient expression. “Are you coming?”

“How do you always do that?”

She leaned down to help me put the princess up onto the seat, careful not to jerk on the reins. “Have you ever heard of the Esmarald Robbery?”

“Where half the crown jewels went missing without a clue? Yes.”

“I did that. My adopted parents were deep in debt and Lord Delascar was considering suicide as the only honorable way out. Before being adopted, I grew up on the street as the head of a pickpocket gang of youngsters. It only takes good planning to do the impossible.”

I climbed up beside her and took the reins. “For some people, maybe.”

“Now will you tell me how to become a dragon?”

“No.”

And we drove away, headed for the Dardec woods.

—

And that was how the Dragonbound man rescued the princess. Who grew up in hiding, before taking the throne from her mentally unstable father and being crowned as the Bronze Queen. Fulfilling the prophecy spoken before her mother was slain. —

Anton Minestrone, Chronicler of Shard: ‘Later Tales’.