The Sorceress of Belmair Read Free Page B

gathered them all up, placed them into a bubble and sent them to the world of Hetar.
    She had never bothered to consider exactly what had happened to them because it didn’t matter as long as they were no longer able to cause trouble for Belmair; Kaliq had given her that knowledge when he had touched her forehead. For centuries in their arrogance and pride, the Hetarians had existed in another bubble of sorts, believing themselves the only denizens of their world but for a people they called Outlanders.
    The Outlanders and the Terahns were Hetar’s original inhabitants. Like the Hetarians, the lord of the Dark Lands had come later. But now all knew that the other existed. The women of Hetar were in revolt against the government that kept them subjugated because of their sex, as their ancestors had once been in revolt against the ruler of Belmair for wanting change. And from this madness the next king would come.
    Nidhug shook her head. She had to trust the great Shadow Prince, for of all the creatures in the Cosmos he was the one who stood highest in the Originator’s favor. If he said Dillon of Hetar was to be Belmair’s next king, then it must be so. The dragon unfolded her golden wings again and rose into the night sky to fly back to her castle. The dawn was just beginning to pull at the edges of the sky when she gained her own battlements. As her large, clawed feet touched the stone roof she shrank down to a more manageable and less frightening size.
    Watching her come, Tavey marveled at the beauty and the magnificence of his mistress. He stepped forward immediately as she landed, bowing. “Your oil bath is ready, mistress. And Sarabeth has prepared a small breakfast for you,” he told her.
    “I will soak my scales first,” Nidhug told him. “Will there be cinnamon rolls?”
    “Only three trays, mistress. The cook thought that while you would be hungry this morning, you would not want to feel too full. She’s done a nice kettle of porridge, two hams and four dozen boiled eggs for you, as well.”
    “How well you all care for me,” Nidhug said, feeling a bit sentimental. “Aye, I will need to be on my toes this morning, given what I must tell Fflergant and his daughter. Send for the dukes. They must be here tomorrow morning to be told the name of the next king. Now, I must have my soak. My scales are dry from the wind.” She hurried off.
    When she had soaked for an hour up to her jowls in the warm oil, Nidhug felt refreshed. Arising from the large oval marble tub the dragon let her serving women gently rub the oil into her skin and blot away the excess. Then she repaired to her dining room for her morning meal, and having finished it she prepared to depart for the king’s castle. She would walk across the gardens that separated the two castles, giving her time to consider exactly how she would approach the matter of succession. By the time she had reached Fflergant’s castle and the throne room, she knew exactly what she must say.
    “I called for you almost a full week ago,” the old king said by way of greeting.
    “And good morrow to you, Your Majesty,” the dragon replied. She glanced at the hourglass and caught her breath. He was almost gone.
    “Who will follow me?” Fflergant demanded to know. “Cinnia tells me that the dukes have no sons but one. What of grandsons? The dukes must have grandsons.”
    “They do,” the dragon said, “but none are suitable. Several are already wed, and the rest too young to be either king of Belmair, or a husband.”
    “How young?” the king wanted to know.
    “The oldest of them is eleven, Your Majesty,” the dragon answered.
    “Eleven. In three years he would be mature enough to be a husband,” Fflergant said. “And in the meantime there could be a regency to rule for him.”
    “I will turn him into a toad,” Cinnia said darkly. “You will not wed me to a child, Father. It is past time for the tradition of kings only rule Belmair to change. You have no