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Rohan finished his tour of the bailey and checkup with the sentinels as the sun was setting. Sybil had already retired to their chambers when he stepped back into the great hall after dinner.
Narrow braziers attached to one side of each of the ten limestone columns lit up the lower levels of the great hall and shrouded it in a dark orange radiance. The tall wooden ceiling was left in darkness except on the side of the staircase that led to the upper floors, on the right side of the rectangular room.
An azure rug ran from the dais on the left side, down through the center and split into two paths, one leading to the entrance, the other to the staircase. Rectangular banners with burnished edges hung from the walls between the narrow windows on the longer sides of the big room that took up most of the lower floor, along with the kitchen and a smaller, private audience or lord's office room on the side of the entrance.
Modest windows were shrouded by veils colored the same azure as the banners. The curtains had been adorned with gold leaves and burnished corners. A few impressively carved teak benches that had faced the dais in a half circle had been moved against the walls to make room in the middle of the great hall.
The hall was full of people settling for the night after the servants had brought food to everyone. The hamlets and farms had been evacuated ahead of the invading army, and now all those peasants, farmers and fishermen were inside the castle.
Not many could fight, and the garrison was badly outnumbered by the army out there. Rohan was still wondering why his mother hadn't surrendered the castle, especially since the leader of the army out there was his uncle.
Then she stepped into the great hall from the staircase, followed by Guibert, and Rohan gasped in surprise. His mother had changed into a warrior's outfit and had a sword by her side!
Her long black hair was unbound and the only pieces of jewelry she had kept were the golden medallion hanging over her forehead and matching earrings. She wore a long-sleeved red tunic, open at the front to show her breeches and knee-high boots. She had sleeveless leather armor covering her torso and hips, over a beige padded tunic with short sleeves slightly longer than the armor. Leather vambraces protected her arms and she had a horn hanging from her belt, next to the scabbard.
"Everybody is at their post," Rohan said, unsure if he should address his mother or the captain of the guard.
"Perfect, my lord. My lady, I bid you good night." Guibert bowed and quickly left to join his own wife in the barracks built against the castle inner walls.
Rohan looked at his mother, still stunned by her transformation.
"Rohan, come with me," she ordered, signaling Rohan to follow her.
They took the staircase to the top of the keep, from which they could see the sea, the shoreline and the army camped outside the castle walls.
The sun had set by now, and she went around the wide, crenelated terrace, checking her troops were at their posts on the battlements. Intimidated by her new warlike look, Rohan just waited for her to finish her inspection and tell him what this was all about.
The sky was dark and starry, and fires and torches lit up the camp and the battlements, but the terrace of the keep was dark. Rohan wondered why his mother hadn't brought a torch, then remembered he could provide light if necessary.
He wasn't sure where his magic came from, but it had developed with puberty, and now, at twenty, he barely managed to control his light spells, which delighted his wife, Sybil, but they weren't very useful except on dark and stormy nights when all the candles blew out.
The salty air whipped his long black hair, so similar to his mother's, and he shivered. He had no cloak, only his leather armor over his tunic. The armor and leather vambraces might protect his body from blows, but not from the biting cold.
"Mother..."
Her obsidian eyes finally settled on him.
"Rohan, I know you're confused. That man out there wants to take the castle from you. But I will not allow it, and I will call upon old friends to help you keep it."
"But why does he want to take the castle from me?" Rohan protested.
"Because he knows his brother isn't your actual father," she answered, serious. "I already had you when I married Bertran. He loved me and considered you his son and heir, hence he'd want you to have Dockerly Castle, or he would have let me know that upon his death the castle should go to his younger brother, Thiebaud."
Rohan gaped. He had heard whispered comments. The lord and lady of the castle both had dark eyes and he had baby blues. Even Guibert said "Lord Bertran", never "Your father" – Rohan had thought it had been out of respect, but clearly the captain of the guard knew the truth.
"You're telling me the man out there wants to take this castle because I'm a bastard?" His voice rose and broke on the last word.
"That's what he thinks, yes," his mother answered with a nod. "And yes, technically you are a bastard, since you're not Bertran's son, but that's what makes you so special. Bertran was human, we are something more."
"Yeah, I can tell you kept something from me for my whole life!" Rohan said, sarcastic, pointing at her warrior-woman garb.
"I had you and gave up that life," she replied. "I didn't want you to grow up in a temple with the risk of losing your mother during some holy mission. Bertran knew I was a member of the Teeth, but Thiebaud doesn't know about my past."
"A member of what?"
"The Teeth of the Dragon, elite warriors who serve the castles and city-states of the humans."
Rohan huffed and looked away. The army camp was a sea of flickering lights on the shoreline, blocking all the ways in by land. They could withstand a siege, but for how long? Could a fleet of reinforcements save them?
"So how do we get help?" he asked, scowling at his mother.
He still had no idea of what she was talking about. He had never gone very far from the castle and the town of Saltmire, and suddenly it appeared the world was much bigger than he thought – and his mother knew a lot about it that she had never shared with him or his siblings.
"You will go to the Temple of the Rainbow with my mount and bring reinforcements," she answered. "But first I need to draw some of your blood to forge the bond."
"What bond?" he asked, stepping back.
"There is no time, Rohan."
She grabbed his wrist and cut the palm of his left hand with her knife. She kissed the bleeding cut and let go. Hissing in pain, Rohan wrapped his wounded hand in a handkerchief. He wanted to protest, but watched his mother, fascinated, instead.
She grabbed her horn. Her still bloody lips touched it, but no sound came out of it. She blew it once and took it off her belt, attaching it to Rohan's. Then she sheathed her knife and wiped her lips clean.
She stepped forward and bandaged his hand, then she turned to look towards the land, beyond the fires of the army.
Rohan wasn't sure what to think, what to do. He had never heard of the Teeth, or the Temple of the Rainbow, although they seemed to be pretty big deals.
"Where was I born?" he asked at last.
"In the Temple of the Rainbow," she answered absentmindedly.
"And how did you end up in a castle on the shoreline of the Land of the White Birches?"
"I told you, I didn't want you to grow up in that temple. My mother had moved to Saltmire where I met Bertran who fell in love with me, and we lived happily ever after. Until he died in that silly hunting accident, that is."
Rohan hesitated.
"Rumors say you bewitched him."
She scoffed. "You heard about that? I'm sure that's what Thiebaud thinks too. That I'm a witch."
"Are you?"
"No." She shot him a half smile. "I'm sorry, Rohan, I really hoped you could live a fully human life and never experience what I went through," she apologized. "I guess I failed you, but I hope to make it up to you." She looked up at the night sky and smiled openly. "Ah, here he is!"
Still puzzled, Rohan looked up and saw a dark shadow glide towards the keep. His mother grabbed his arm and dragged him to the side, towards the crenelations that faced the sea and away from the army camp.
Rohan almost screamed when he realized what was coming, but his mother squeezed his wounded hand and he closed his mouth. The dragon landed on the keep's terrace and folded its wings. The sparse light from the starry sky made it shine silver.
Dark umber eyes sat far within the creature's angular, scaled skull, which gave the creature a very ominous-looking appearance. Two horns sat atop its head, just above its small, angular ears. A row of horns ran down the sides of each of its jawlines. Its nose was thin and had two short, warped nostrils, and there was a tendril on its chin. Four large teeth poked out from the side of its mouth and gave a slight hint at the terror hiding inside.
A strong neck ran down from its head and into a snake-like body. The top was covered in stone-like scales, and a row of tendrils ran down its spine. Its bottom was covered in curved scales and was colored lighter than the rest of its body. Four powerful limbs carried its body and allowed the creature to stand dignified and mighty. Each limb had five digits, each of which ended in huge claws seemingly made of onyx.
Massive wings grew starting from its shoulders and ending at its hips. The wings were angular, the edges of the skin inside the wings were tattered and damaged, and small, sharp tips grew from each ending like massive spears. Its elegant tail ended in a sharp tip and was covered in the same stone-like scales as its body.
"Frugyss-rak, long time no see." The woman stepped forward, unwrapping Rohan's wounded hand and allowing the dragon to smell the blood.
Rohan stiffened, fearing it would bite off his hand. The tendril on its chin tickled him and its muzzle felt cold.
Looking good, Jasmine. I see little Rohan has grown up quite a bit.
Rohan felt the voice of the dragon inside his head. The creature seemed to smile, showing more fangs on its scaly muzzle.
"Yes, he's an adult now," his mother said. "Can you take him to the temple and bring back the Teeth? We need help."
Of course, Jasmine. Jump on my back, Rohan.
"What?" Rohan stared, incredulous, at his mother.
"Do as he says," she said, pushing him around the big body.
The dragon was crouched, but she had to help him climb on its back, where he found a saddle similar to a horse's but bigger.
"Just hold on, you don't need to direct him," his mother said. "Make haste, Thiebaud has enough men and siege engines to take the castle by sunset tomorrow."
Rohan grabbed the pommel of the saddle and gritted his teeth as the beast moved under him, rising on all fours and spreading its bat-like wings.
Don't look down!
Rohan closed his eyes as the night breeze shifted from salty to colder and greener. They were probably already above the mountains from the pine tree scent.
A couple of hours ago he thought he was just a young man with some magic in him. Now he was riding a dragon and...
Relax, everything will be fine.
"Stop reading my thoughts!" he snapped, glaring at the dragon.
He saw the dark ground below, with tiny spots of lights that were probably lone farms or castles. Darkness covered the land, though, there wasn't much to see. If it weren't for the wind of movement, he'd think they were motionless in the cold night air.
He might be a good rider, but it wasn't exactly like riding a horse. The cold, thin air was exhilarating, though, so he soon relaxed. A dragon rider. Even if he lost Dockerly Castle, he might become a dragon rider!