Blood of Dragons

‘I’m not your “boy”, Hest.’ The words were spoken so quietly.



Hest shifted his tactics slightly. ‘How well I know that. Ah, well, we’ve both changed, haven’t we? Sweet Sa, if you knew the half of what I’ve gone through to find you and bring you home! Well, some day we’ll share that tale with the fellows, won’t we? And have a good laugh about your sojourn in the wilderness. I’ll wager you’re more than ready for a comfortable home and a glass of good wine. And an evening alone with me.’ He smiled at him, an inviting smile that Sedric would well recall. He licked his lips.



Sedric was meeting his gaze steadily. His mouth was flat, unsmiling, his eyes unreadable. ‘No, Hest. No to all of it.’



‘No?’ His grin grew wider. ‘Ah, you’ve always begun by saying “no” to me, haven’t you? Sedric, you want me to make you change your mind, don’t you? Well, I don’t mind that. I don’t mind that at all.’



Hest swayed slightly as he advanced. Sedric watched him come and felt almost preoccupied with trying to decide what it reminded him of. And then he knew. A snake. A snake stalking a mouse.



Except that he wasn’t a mouse any more. As Hest reached for him, Sedric shot his fist out, pivoting to put his weight into it. He felt it connect solidly, saw the other man stumble back against the wall. ‘No,’ he said again as Hest lifted both hands to his bleeding mouth. ‘No to all of it.’



He turned and went down the stairs. He didn’t look back. He went out of the baths and spotted Carson at the bottom of the steps, deep in conversation with Davvie. He was listening while Davvie gesticulated, and then threw a punch at the air. Then the youngster looked up at his uncle earnestly. Sedric couldn’t hear what was said, but at the end of it, he saw the hunter nod gravely. He reached out to tousle the boy’s hair. In mid-reach, he suddenly changed the gesture to a clap on the shoulder. Davvie gave him a nod and a half-smile before turning away from him. So. It wasn’t all right, not completely, but in time, it would be.



Sedric increased the length of his stride and caught up with Carson as he started to walk away. He linked arms with him and then flinched when Carson covered his hand with his own.



Carson looked down and then glanced up at him in surprise. ‘Your knuckles are bleeding.’



‘Are they?’ Sedric held his hand up for his own inspection. ‘No.’ He wiped the blood off on his cloak. ‘They’re just bruised.’



‘Let me see.’ He took Sedric’s hand, studied the puffing knuckles, then lifted it to his mouth. He kissed them gently, gravely. ‘All better,’ he told him.



Sedric bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling, but didn’t try to hide the tears that rose in his eyes at Carson’s tenderness. ‘I think you’re right,’ he agreed huskily.



They both startled as dragons trumpeted, a peculiar note in their cries. The sound was passed from one creature to the next, until it filled the sky over the city and echoed back from the hills. ‘What are they going on about?’ Sedric wondered.



‘It’s an alarm. A stranger approaches.’ Carson was already studying the air above them.



Sedric lifted his eyes to the sky. He didn’t ask Carson how he knew these things. The hunter just did. After a scan, Sedric pointed. ‘There. Right at the horizon, very low. Black dragon. Kalo?’



Carson squeezed his shoulder. ‘You’ve a good eye, Bingtown boy. But that’s not Kalo. He’s bigger than Kalo. And Kalo was soaking in the baths.’ He squinted. ‘No. That’s not one of our dragons.’



The dragons shrieked again, more urgently, and began to converge, coming from all corners of the world to spiral above Kelsingra.



‘IceFyre.’ Sedric spoke the name aloud. ‘It has to be the drake that Tintaglia spoke of. But why does he come here?’



Damn, but it hurt. Hest took his hand away from his mouth, looked at the blood running down his wrist and grimaced. This sort of play had rules, as he had so clearly established with Sedric years ago! What was Sedric learning among these brutes? There was a limit and Sedric had just found it. Play was play, but marring Hest’s face was never on the menu. He’d pay for it, now.



His fingers found the split in his lower lip. The taste of blood was all through his mouth; his own teeth had cut into his cheek. He blotted his lip on his cuff and scowled at the spreading stain as he walked to the top of the steps. ‘Sedric!’ he barked, and then winced at the pain of shouting. ‘You’ve gone too far, Sedric! You know that.’