The Fire Dragon Read Free Page B

“But mayhap you'll think up another one. About the Holy City itself, say.”
    “It's the oldest place in all Deverry, after all,” Degwa put in. “There must be splendid tales about it.”
    “And all the legends, too,” Elyssa went on. “About King Bran and how he saw the white sow and all of that. It would make a lovely beginning.”
    “Now there's a good idea!” Bellyra suddenly smiled. She could just see how to do the opening pages. “My thanks.”
    Elyssa and Degwa glanced at each other, then away, as if perhaps they had planned this suggestion together. She should be grateful to them, Bellyra supposed. Yet she felt like snarling because they had reminded her of the birthing madness, prowling at the edge of her mind just as Braemys's army prowled at the borders of her husband's lands. It will be different this time, she told herself. She wished she could believe it.
    The silence grew heavy around them. With a littleshake of her head, Degwa stood up, stepping toward the hearth. In the firelight a silver brooch pinned to the left shoulder of her dress sparkled with a long glint of light.
    “There's not a lot of firewood left, Your Highness. Shall I send one of the servants for more?”
    “Please do,” Bellyra said. “Or wait! What's that on your dress, Decci?”
    “A little gift.” Degwa smiled, glancing away. “From an admirer.”
    “Not Councillor Oggyn?” Bellyra clapped her hands together. “It's quite pretty.”
    “So it is,” Elyssa put in. “Is that real glass set in it?”
    “It is.” Degwa's face had turned a pleasant shade of pink.
    Elyssa and Bellyra exchanged a pointed glance that made Degwa giggle.
    “If only he were noble-born!” Degwa said. “As it is, I can hardly count him a true suitor.”
    “Oh, now here!” Bellyra said briskly. “After all the fine service he's paid our prince, who would scorn you if you should marry him?”
    Degwa blushed again. She was no longer a lass, but certainly not an old woman, though she'd been widowed for many years now. With her dark curly hair and fine dark eyes, she was attractive, as well, despite her weak mouth and weaker chin.
    “I'll take pity on you, Decci,” Elyssa said smiling, “and talk of somewhat else. Speaking of jewelry reminds me, Your Highness. I met Otho the smith down in the great hall this morning, after you'd left. He asked for news of you and sends his humble greetings.”
    “How kind of him. I hope you told him I was well.”
    “I did.”
    “Good. I've always had an easy time of it with the babies. Until afterwards.”
    “Oh, don't!” Elyssa leaned over and laid her hand on Bellyra's arm. “Don't think about it. Just don't.”
    “You're right. I'll try not to.”
    Bellyra wasn't able to say why this mention of Othogave her the idea, but it occurred to her that afternoon to give Maddyn a token of some sort, a little trinket such as queens often bestowed upon favored courtiers, to take to the wars and bring him luck. That evening, she had Otho summoned and met him outside the door to the women's hall, while her serving women stood with her for propriety's sake.
    “I want to give my bard a pin to match that silver ring,” Bellyra told the smith. “One with a rose design.”
    “Easy enough to do, Your Highness,” Otho said. “I've still got a bit of silver left over from the—er well, let's just say I found it, like, after your husband took Dun Deverry.”
    “I don't want to know any details.”
    “Just as well, Your Highness. I'll get right to work on that.”
    “My thanks, good smith.”
    All smiles, Otho bowed, then stumped down the corridor to the stairway. Degwa waited till he was well out of earshot.
    “Your bard, Your Highness?” Degwa raised an eyebrow.
    “Well, my husband's, truly, but then, my husband was the one who set him guarding me.”
    “Of course.” All at once Degwa blushed. “Er, ah, I'll just see if the servant girls have swept out your chamber. I asked them rather a long while