6.6

Jewel did not want to admit that the food was incredible. She had started eating only because it would be unacceptable to refuse the hospitality of the Countess. But it was at odds with her leaden mood.

They were going to war.

They were going to war with The Realm!

With the High King himself and all the armies he commanded!

Depending on who rallied with the King, Rochford could be on the very front of it. Just as it had been in the war with the Tyrant Wyrm.

War with over a dozen other Counts and Countesses potentially and even somethings called Dukes and Duchesses?!

What even were those?!

Were they like Wizards?

Abbots apparently could talk to Gods!

Would Jewel have to fight a God?!

There was a chance there would be armies marching along the great canyon road that moved so close to the sky that the air went thin!

There might be armies ten, twenty, even forty thousand strong!

And they were all counting on her to turn the tide!

Because she was a Dragon!

But Jewel had not even managed to defeat an oversized PIG on her own!

She desperately had wanted the dinner to be ash and dust in her mouth to match her mood but it was delicious, the wine was incredible and although she still had yet to find the limit on how far she could drink into her cups she had made a sound and mighty effort tonight!

If ever there was a time to try and get as drunk as Mother did on the regular, tonight was the night!

Also, Jewel decreed that Saffron was the most wondrous substance within all the world and that she adored everything it's delicious orange colour graced!

A pity that it was worth more than ten times its weight in gold!

So despite her wishes, the meal and drink was wonderful.

But now she and Father had been summoned to meet with the Countess.

And it was a bit of a surprise that Father’s study was actually larger than the Countess’.

Jewel had to coil over on top of herself a few times in the corner to not overcrowd anyone else.

Even with only Father, the man in Black robes and Countess Bathory to take up the rest of the chamber.

As soon as Jewel was settled and the door closed Father turned on the Countess with a fury tightly restrained.

“She is not ready for war.”

To which the Countess smiled back at him and gently clasped her hands one over another at her stomach.

Standing imperiously and unbowed despite him being nearly two heads taller than her.

“And whose fault is that, Jonathan? I will have bought you ten years to train your daughter by the time we muster. I have pleaded excuse after excuse to King Matthias and his sycophant Thurzó. Do you think either of them would have even let you keep the wyrmling once she hatched? Despite what every gryphon lord and rider would say about your bond and the damage it would do to break it?”

She smiled at Father but it was fierce around her eyes. But he did not bend to her gaze despite the pain in his face, ache and worry that was overpowering his fury.

“No, they would not, Jonathan. They are fools, and most of all greedy cowards. Even with every Rider and Lord of the wing screaming the foolishness of it, if you had stood alone against them? They would have taken her.”

Jewel shifted uneasily, feeling somewhat lethargic from dinner. Was that the wine finally getting to her? That seemed strange.

“The King would not have allowed you to adopt her either. Without me Jewel would already be a caged warbeast in the Capital’s menagerie across three sky routes on the Canyon road from here. Clear on the other side of the world. You are nothing to the king, a mere provincial baron and an oversized Gryphon Rider who can’t fly more than half as far as his peerage because he’s twice again too heavy for his steed.”

The Countess never raised her voice but Jewel could see how she knew just how to whip Father with every word. They landed like a lash made of steel chains.

She wanted to be angry, but still felt slow and sleepy.

In spite of her lethargy, this was not fair to Father! It had to be lies, Father was a great Gryphon Lord!

He had proven himself first amongst their number!

But Countess Bathory kept talking.

“The King does not care about the title of Lord Rochford, he only cares that you managed to hatch a dragon. And without my protection he will take her and both of you will never see each other again.”

Jewel felt her blood trembling in a sluggish tired way despite the thought that, wait... No it wasn't...

It wasn't her blood, or the wine or the food. She was fine.

Not tired at all.

But something was itching at her as if asking if she would just grasp herself with her Wyrmfire and slow herself down.

Father’s tone perked her ears with his anger and even a hint of fear.

“Elizabeth, this is madness, we can’t hope to stand against the entire Realm! Jewel is only going to see her tenth winter this year! All the armies of Viznove are at best maybe fifteen thousand strong! Twenty thousand if we draw past sanity in the levy and leave only the too old and too young to bring in the harvest!”

It was kind of peculiar, almost like a whisper, but if no one was saying a word.

The Countess seemed unmoved by his anger.

“I have read your reports Jonathan. With the element of surprise and her flames we could wipe out a force three times greater than our own in a single battle!”

Jewel gave a shake of her head and tried to tilt her ears to listen better but her ears were not what was hearing the strange insistent little whisper. It was something else entirely, almost felt.

Father continued to give a spirited rebuttal.

“They will know we will use her Elizibeth! They will expect this, the capital has Wizards they will-”

The Countess’ and Father’s words grew indistinct as Jewel turned her attention from her ears to this something else.

Then she found it.

It was in her Wyrmfire, tones and little twisting requests and something else?

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She felt around in herself, and paid attention to the strange twisting requests. It was familiar after a fashion. She had felt hints of this before, never in her own Wyrmfire but out in the world around her.

It felt a lot like-

There!

Jewel snapped her head to stare at the strange man with his straight black hair that hugged to his head down straight all around like some strange helm.

With his short beard all straight and smoothly held together in one piece narrowing to a point.

Hair that she had thought was black out in the evening sun but now could see was just an incredibly dark red.

Black robes with a filigree of branching patterns almost like tree branches all done in crimson red embroidery at the edges of the sleeves, collar and where the cloth folded over in front cinched by a belt..

Whose lips were not moving and yet was politely and insistently asking her to move her own blood, to slow it down as she would when calm and sleepy.

The man that had an expression of intense concentration while he was staring at her.

Somehow trying to tell Her Wyrmfire to do things to her?

To command her?!

“Excuse me?”

Jewel took a few moments to notice the silence between Bathory and Father before she realized she had growled that out aloud.

In fact, not only had she said that out loud, she had moved considerably from her polite and un-intrusive pile on one side of the room.

She had in truth moved to take up considerably more space then she normally would want and now was looming over the man in black and red as high as the ceiling would allow her to, wings splayed wide.

Jewel found that, in addition to that change of posture, she was also staring down at his wide eyes as he now held his hands up, empty of anything and yet flexing fingers in a way that twinged off of her Wyrmfire annoyingly.

The unvoiced silent pleas became so much more desperate. A begging not-voice whispering in near hissing urgency to Jewel to please stop her heart until she passed out if she would so kindly.

Which was quite silly to ask.

Silly and annoying.

Why would Jewel ever DO that?

She began to call up her Wyrmfire into her throat.

More twinges and infuriating requests rippled over her. Driving clarity to her thoughts on just what she needed to do.

It was clearly time to dismiss this irritating gnat that kept poking and prodding at what was hers.

A moment more and it would be over.

Jewel’s throat was ready to open and her jaw was flexing to part-

But suddenly there was a sound like a particularly hearty belch and a wet slap of muddy roots all over Countess Bathory’s nice cut wooden floor and fine carpet.

Shocked out of her focus Jewel found the Weird of the Uloghai Bog had arrived and was sporting a deeply disapproving monocular glare on the now nearly bone white faced man flailing his fingers and arms and screaming in that not-voice at Jewel to lock her muscles tight and hold still and also please die.

Jewel shook herself in annoyance and snarled at him but her friend interrupted before she could start rallying her Wyrmfire again.

“Wizard Jaksa the Red. I am extremely disappointed, the circles speak very highly of your aptitude and even your sharp wit but this leaves me suspecting they have greatly over embellished your accomplishments and abilities! Cease immediately! You cannot ensorcell a Tyrant Wyrm!”

The now named Jaksa the Red finally stopped his voiceless nattering at Jewel and turned on Tsulogothulan and puffed himself out, the color of his skin returning to a more healthy hue as his face contorted in fury!

“Weird of Bogs or not, Tsulogothulan! I will have you know by my workings I have subdued and slain seven wyrm! Including a lupine, two belaros and a full grown mountain drake!”

Which just made Tsulogothulan laugh like a crow drowning in pond scum.

“How!? By catching them unawares? You idiot! She’s not just some feral beast you can trick into your bidding if her mood and the stars align! She is a fully cognizant and aware Wyrm. She can Tell! What did you THINK was going to happen? Have you not read what happens to those that attempt sorcery upon the Tyrants?!”

Father stared at each of the Wizards then suspiciously back at the Countess who seemed intrigued but not concerned or surprised.

Jewel herself was completely confused, sure she was a dragon but that did not make her anything like the Tyrant Wyrm!

But then Countess Bathory spoke her voice low with breathy reverence.

“So it is true then? She is Immune to sorcery?”

Jaksa glared at Jewel. The silent not voice tried to tell her Wyrmfire to blink her eyes. She of course refused it and rumbled again in warning.

Then watched Jaksa the Red as his expression turned from consternation to confusion and then slowly to disbelief.

“B-but It was a myth! The misunderstanding of god botherers, hedge practitioners and primitive wizards! I PROVED that! The Wyrm are not immune to sorcery of the right sort”

Jewel looked between the Supposed Wizard and Tsulogothulan.

Honestly, Jaksa did not seem anything like a wizard. He was ultimately just a man in a robe with peculiar hair that could tell her to do things without speaking.

He was nothing like what Jewel had come to understand Wizards to be. She had not even seen him disappear or reappear once! He walked to dinner with the Countess!

He lacked all the proper strangeness befitting what Jewel understood to be the domain of Wizards.

Oh wait, is THAT what being a Weird meant?!

Well, now she was feeling a bit embarrassed it took this long.

The Weird of Bogs however had far more to say to what she was now considering some kind of junior or squire equivalent to wizardom.

In contrast to the Knight or lord-like rank held by Weirds.

“Really!? What are you fledglings learning these days? That you're dismissing one of the Truths!? primitive wizards?! Pfah! Idjit needs reminding of the words of the world.”

Tsulogothulan then proceeded to intone in the roundest and most common sounding drawl Jewel had ever heard the Bog Weird speak.

It felt like it was laced thick as peat with insults to everyone who heard it for daring to be something that thought themselves made of something better than the good mud and muck amidst the reeds.

And yet it resonated, in a way that ran along Jewels scales and ever so delicately brushed her fire in a friendly tingle.

It landed like a question that felt quite amiable to Jewel and thrummed where she agreed with it.

It flowed and shook off more than just Jewel. And a presence rose in answer with her to the unsaid question. It rode into the room from the waters outside and the loam around the foundations of the keep.

From the stones in the floor and the wall. In the tapestries and the wood of the furniture.

All pooling together in their own subtle and soft agreement that yes indeed these were very agreeable things being said.

Words spoken aloud as statements but gently pleading for acknowledgement in the silences of Wyrmfire around them.

And in the echoing answer from all around them and everything the statement was made ever more solid and true.

Taking on a foundation in that confirmation of the world as something that had always been there which the Bog Weird was just reminding everyone of the facts on.

Drawing attention to it in the speaking.

By Mortal Hand, By Divine’s Art.

From Tyrant’s Flesh All Spells Depart.

Should Fools attempt, And Sense Rebel.

The Dragon’s Wrath Your Life Dispel.

And there was a palpable stillness and a deeply satisfying approval welling up from not just Jewel and her own indignation at the previous attempt to dare to command her but also the very air, stone and wood around them.

Each in their own sleepy way agreeing with it like amiable puppies nodding along.

It was the single most united act of will by the world around her that Jewel had ever witnessed!

So distracting it all was She nearly missed the best part!

For Tsulogothulan had appeared (like a proper Wizard!) directly behind Jaksa the Red and hit him hard upside the back of the head with a wet slap of the palm.

“So no ensorcelling the dragon, Ya Idjit!”