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Chapter Seventeen

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Icarrions had a strange palate. They ate mostly bland foods and seasoning of any kind was rarely introduced into any dish – with the exception of rock salt sprinkled onto any roasted meat. There was no meat offered to Serillia, and the porridge-like splodge in the middle of an overlarge plate, presented ceremoniously to her, was met with extreme displeasure.

‘I’ll accept Platton blood,’ she said, waving the plate away. ‘Have someone fetch me a full goblet.’

Lord Cantor sat silently at Serillia’s side and mulled over how best he could explain to her that the drinking of Platton blood was outlawed. How could he explain that the miraculous blood was only harvested for medicinal reasons and, even then, never actually consumed?

‘You look constipated, my Lord... or is merely that I’ve said something to offend you?’

‘I’m neither constipated nor offended, my lady.’

‘Then, what ails you?’

Cantor’s shrewd eyes took in the haughty expression and the hard lines around Serillia’s mouth and wondered if he’d been mistaken in thinking that she would be a malleable queen. He contemplated his next words carefully before saying, ‘You will need to study our customs and learn to bend to the laws and the will of the people. Beginning your first day here with an order to fetch Platton blood is a mistake.’

Serillia opened her mouth to speak, to insist that she would rule according to her customs and her laws, but Cantor held his hand up and stayed her words.

‘Please remember, nothing is certain, princess. The throne is within your grasp, but you need the support of the masses. Your dragon has swayed things in your favour, but you are, by no means, safe.’

Serillia clamped her mouth shut and nodded. She had forgotten herself for a moment – showed a glimpse of her true self – and that was an error of judgement she swore not to repeat.

She had tried not to appear gauche and uncivilised as she’d rode through the townships on the way to the city. She had never been off world before and she hoped that the people hadn’t noticed how she’d gawped and gaped like a tourist. Since arriving at the royal castle, she’d overcompensated for her fear of appearing less than she was and had taken too high a hand with regards to the food. She knew that Platton blood was a resource highly valued and rarely used and, to ask to drink it instead of accepting the hospitality on offer, had been a grave mistake.

She rectified that mistake now by gesturing for a server to bring her a plate of the slop. She ate it slowly, as if savouring every mouthful, and swallowed back the bile in her throat with a smile.

‘You lost control of your dragon today,’ Cantor said. ‘It was noticed, and a few eyebrows were raised.’

‘Flozanya was excited. She’s never seen another of her kind... not since she was ripped from her mother’s side. I can forgive her this one indiscretion.’

‘You named your dragon?’ He was surprised.

‘Your dragon has not been named?’ She was only mildly curious.

He shook his head.

‘Tell me about him.’

‘What’s to tell? He’s a dragon. He’s been loyal to several queens and he’s the reason that you’re here... him and, of course, Flozanya.’

She knew the truth of that. She was of the bloodline, and her dragon proved it.

‘You took a great risk in bringing me here. I heard tell that Aggerron named someone else as her heir.’ She kept her eyes downcast and avoided showing him the cunning in her eyes. ‘You betrayed your queen for me, Lord Cantor.’

‘The queen wasn’t in her right mind at the end.’ He sounded defensive. ‘It was imperative to confirm a queen with dragon blood, and the Earth girl was unproven. She is blood of Lillyanna, and that swayed the queen’s otherwise good judgement.’

‘Nevertheless...’

‘I didn’t think I would need to defend my decision to you, Serillia,’ he interjected.  ‘Try not to bite the hand that feeds you.’

‘I am your servant, my Lord. Forgive me my naivety. I’m simply trying to understand the politics here.’

‘There’s no need for you to worry your pretty little head about anything other than convincing your subjects that you are fit to rule them. Questioning me on my loyalty to queen Aggerron is stupid, rather than naïve.’ He kept his voice low. There were too many people desperate to hear what he was discussing with the heir apparent. ‘You need to guard your tongue, madam.’

She lifted her eyes and gave him an enigmatic smile. ‘I had no voice on my home planet, Lord Cantor. I thought that I

might be given one here.’

‘You will have a voice, princess, but I’ll be the one putting

words in your mouth. It’s best that you remember that.’

If she had been weaker, she would have cried in frustration at Cantor’s very clear message. But, she was not weak. She was forged from adversity and strengthened by cruelty, and she was more than a match for the likes of the Lord Cantor. At the moment, she was friendless on an alien planet and she knew that she had to bide her time – earn Cantor’s trust and the trust of the people – before taking what was hers and destroying all those who thought they could rule through her.

Despite her little show of character, Cantor was convinced that Serillia had the makings of an excellent puppet. She had grown up obeying her betters without question and – until he appeared on the scene – she had no hope of having anything close to power. He would allow her just enough authority to keep her satisfied, and keep her firmly beholden to him, and, when the time was right, he would bond and mate with her and take the crown and the throne for himself.

A disturbance at the far end of the hall caught his eye and he excused himself and went to investigate.

‘Two ships are in our orbit, Lord. They refuse to answer our hails and their silence seem menacing.’ The young officer was nervous addressing the head of the council. Lord Cantor had a reputation that made anyone bearing bad or worrisome news rather anxious. He had been known to shoot the messenger, but – granted – that rather extreme action hadn’t occurred in a very long time.

‘Have the ships been identified?’ Cantor asked, ignoring the officer’s very obvious discomfort.

‘One is Plutonian, sir, but the other one has no markings.’

‘Plutonian?’ Cantor’s face darkened. ‘Damn him... Damn Damanaclee. Get the fleet on high alert and report back to me

as soon as any contact is made.’

The officer nodded, clicked his heels and marched quickly

away.

Back at Serillia’s side, he feigned nonchalance and invited her to take a tour of the royal castle and its grounds.

‘I think a little history lesson is in order,’ he said, taking her arm.

They made their way across the hall and out through the door to the courtyard.

‘The royal castle has stood for centuries and was built to protect the city beyond. Aggerron was the first queen to set up her home and her court here and she was wise to do so. It has a curtain wall and no less than twelve flanking towers with long parapets and numerous crenels and merlons. No invader has ever penetrated or breached its walls, and I believe it would serve you well to follow Aggerron’s example and make this your home.’

‘Are there no palaces in the city more suited to the delicate needs of a queen?’ she asked. ‘I’ve lived rough all of my life. I had hoped for more comfort than what a royal castle offers.’

‘We live in uncertain times,’ he replied. ‘War with the Plutonian and with the Xanetteian pretender is inevitable. And, then there is the threat of attack from one, or all, of the Asson pretenders. No,’ he shook his head. ‘No palace is safe. You will stay here.’

She had lived in royal castles. She knew how uncomfortable they were. They were often cold and drafty, with rooms too small to be comfortable, and were also dark, dingy and smelly. She refrained from voicing her unhappiness at the thought of living anywhere but in a spacious, airy palace and, instead, smiled and agreed that living in the royal castle was an excellent idea.

‘The royal castle Keep is quite comfortable,’ he said, almost

reading the concern she tried to keep hidden. Aggerron renovated it forty or fifty years ago and, apart from the great hall, there are three kitchens, a chapel and spacious bedchambers. She got rid of the smoky fires in the rooms and replaced them with pipework fuelled by atomfire. Living in the royal castle may not turn out to be as comfortable as living in a palace, but you should find it acceptable.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, my Lord and – as you said – it is safer to be here.’

‘There are dragon quarters below the round tower,’ he went on. ‘The two dragons will be brought here and instructed to remain underground until they are needed. Aggerron gave her dragon far too much freedom and the beast developed a pride that was both unfitting and detrimental to the protection of the realm.’

Serillia nodded, despite having no intention of imprisoning either of the dragons.

They walked around the few market stalls taking centre stage just inside the curtain wall and Serillia was disappointed by the lack of wares on display.

Cantor noticed her look of disillusionment and explained, ‘We are a poor planet, Serillia. Aggerron tried many times to encourage trade with other planets, but struggled to regain our foothold in the Coalition. The ravages of war brought disease and destroyed agriculture and industry, but she introduced many initiatives to improve our lot before she died.’

‘I hear there are diamond and gold mines in the blue mountains, and seams of raw atomfire along the ridges to the north of Kavoss, just waiting to be mined and exploited. Icarrion has no need to go to the Coalition with begging bowl in hand – not if there are such enormous untapped reserves.’

‘You are very well informed.’

‘I made it my business to learn everything I could before I came here. It would have been remiss of me not to become

acquainted with the place I was soon to call home.’

Cantor wasn’t sure if he approved of her industrious learning. He thought he might have preferred her to remain completely ignorant.

They moved away from the market stalls and strolled across to the entrance to the Keep.

‘Aggerron’s body is still in the royal bedchamber. I can show you the kitchens and the chapel, if you want, but it is best we steer clear of the royal apartments until she is removed to the funeral pyre.’

‘As you wish, my Lord.’

They explored the huge kitchens and Serillia wondered why the royal castle needed such elaborate cooking facilities if all that was served was tasteless sludge, but she kept that view to herself. Instead, she asked, ‘Why does a planet the size of Icarrion only have one queen? On Draggoster there are many kings governing many kingdoms.’ Seeing his frown, she added, ‘I apologise if it is a stupid question.’

‘It’s not a stupid question. I was just thinking how best to answer you.’ He thought a moment more, his frown deepening. He wasn’t sure how much to tell her. At last, he said, ‘There may be kings and queens in the provinces known as the Forbidden Territories. There is no way of knowing. Aggerron would have been able to tell you. She was the oldest Icarrion alive and there was nothing she didn’t know.’

‘Have these territories always been forbidden?’

He shook his head. ‘That’s not my understanding. When the skies were filled with dragons, Icarrion’s borders were open and there was no corner where free travel was banned. Since the demise of our dragons, and since the last great war, there were lands and seas that were suddenly and resolutely closed to us. No one has tried to penetrate the territories in over hundred years.’

‘Why?’ Serillia was genuinely puzzled. ‘Is there some danger I should be aware of?’

‘Great danger, my lady. ‘The atmosphere is toxic, and the people are ruthless and barbaric.’

She wanted to ask more, but Cantor seemed impatient to change the subject. He said, ‘The chapel isn’t used, of course. Aggerron wasn’t a great believer in the Sun God. You may open it up and use it, if you wish.’

‘I am no lover of the Sun God,’ she almost spat in return. ‘He abandoned me to a terrible fate when he birthed me on Draggoster.’

‘But, he favours you now, my lady. You are here, are you not? He shines on you with radiance, now.’

‘That remains to be seen,’ she said, turning her back and walking back towards the courtyard. ‘I have to find Flozanya. She’s dallied with your dragon long enough.’

Flozanya’s dalliance with the dragon was far from over. She was mesmerised by the sheer size of the male dragon and, despite him not being at full strength - and in spite of the injuries sustained by the atomfire weapon – he was almost twice her size and twice as strong. His huge, scaly body and magnificent wing-span aroused in her the primal instincts of selection. Female dragons looked to mate with the biggest and the best so that their offspring had the greatest chance of survival. Although there were no other male dragons for her to react to, her instincts screamed that he was a worthy mate.

Flozanya couldn’t remember her mother. Captured directly after birth, she was sold to a Draggosterian merchant and flown from Icarrion in a cage. She had almost died – starved of her mother’s milk and manhandled cruelly – and she fetched a paltry price at the market some weeks later. She was bought by a king as a pet for his son, but the young prince tired of her and she was banished to a dungeon deep in the

royal castle and abandoned to a life of darkness.

When Serillia found her, they were both amazed that they could understand one another. The princess was kind to her and she thrived under her care. When she learned that Serillia had won her freedom, and that they were both to set off on an adventure, she blossomed and became the dragon she was always meant to be.

Her loyalty to the princess was absolute, however her time with the male dragon was too important to allow a little thing such as loyalty to get in the way of the mating ritual. When she heard her mistress’ voice inside her head, she ignored it and, when the voice was heard on the air, she ignored it further.

When the mating was over, Flozanya already felt the quickening in her womb.