dragon’s fiery blood drew her like a magnet. Its distant scent served as a stimulant. Not because the dragon was hurt, but because everything in Graymore flashed at the feeling of having a dragon near. And its veins flowed with spontaneous blood.
There was a prophecy that the mountain dragon would be her destiny. Probably it was because from its scales she would make a perfect chain-mail for herself and become a great knight. Everyone knows that armor made of dragon scales cannot be penetrated by arrows or blades and does not burn. She needs such armor, which means she must capture the dragon. With dragon armor, she will become a great knight who can fight not only dragons but armies of men alone, and only such a knight can rule a kingdom.
That is how Graymore interpreted the prophecy. She would have to marry one of her cousins who would become king. And she wanted to rule herself. She didn’t want a husband who would limit her power at all. To be an autocrat-that is the main goal! And for that she would have to try and prove herself a true heroine.
It was a pity that not all dragons were suited to be skinned and fitted with ideal armor. She needed a special dragon whose scales would not fade after they were flayed from the skin. Graymore had already checked all the dragons she had captured. Once she peeled back the colorful scales, they faded and became colorless. So these dragons are no good. She would have to look for a special one. She wondered if there was a dragon like that nestled on the fringes of her domain. He was in a province somewhere, just outside the southern ridge of the mountains. Graymore was trying to pinpoint its exact location when heralds announced an urgent messenger.
It is a dragon! It is on the southern border of Livellin! It has burned the vineyards and wineries of your subjects, dried with its breath several rivers, destroyed the frontier fort, and neighbors say that before it flew to us, it incinerated a small country by the sea.»
Graymore wondered:
«Did the dragon make demands? Had he bewitched someone to deliver an ultimatum through his lips? Did he demand that cattle or innocent girls be sacrificed to him?»
Usually dragons demanded a dozen sheep a week and a few virgins for a snack. The scholars were certain that dragons needed virgins to perform witchcraft rituals.
Whether dragons knew how to conjure by performing rituals, Graymore did not know. But they did possess a certain ability to perform enchantments. Usually all of their witchcraft talents were limited to suggestion. They could hypnotize a man with one look. But when Graymore looked the dragons in the eye, they had no power over her. It was the further proof that she was bewitched.
«The dragon has not yet made any demands, Your Highness… I mean, majesty,» the messenger did not know how to address her. The formalities were of no concern to Graymore. She will be crowned in due course. She will prove to all that she is capable of reigning alone.
But why did the boundary dragon have power over her? She burned with the feeling that he was close. She was drawn to him as if he was a lover, and yet he was a rival. With every dragon Graymore fought as if she were fighting for power. If she lost once, she would lose her chance to rule the kingdom. But she cannot lose, for she is enchanted.
«I promise to solve the dragon problem,» she waved graciously at the messenger. «Go back to your own land, and tell the people have nothing to fear.»
«But there are none left, my lady. They are all burnt!»
So they are! Graymore tapped the armrests of the throne with annoyance.
The mesmerizing voice in her brain sounded more insistent.
«Come to me!»
Graymore felt her body being caressed by streams of flame. They were no longer burning, but pleasurable. She basked in them as in a warm, fragrant bath.
The fire around her body was invisible, or the messenger and the ambassador, whose report had been indelicately interrupted, would have run away screaming.
«It’s dangerous, my lady!» muttered the messenger. «All those who went to scout have not returned. Many of the glorious knights were left with only burned armor.»
«Mountain dragons are usually full of treasure,» said Graymore dreamily. She was not afraid of being burned. When has a single dragon ever been able to fight her? She alone is stronger than all of them.
«There was probably an exception waiting ahead.»
There was that intrusive voice in her brain again!
Graymore focused her attention on the messenger. He was shabby and frightened.
«Have you come to ask for help?»
«Yes, my lady!»
«Well, I assure you of it.»
«But you’re not going to fight him yourself, are you, my lady?» The messenger blushed to his ears and shrank back. «I hear you are a great champion of dragons.»
«And you doubt I can defeat a dragon?»
«Well,» the messenger blushed even more. «You are not the giantess I was told you were. You’re just a pretty lady.»
«Go on, scram!» Graymore was furious. «You’ll find out how fearsome pretty ladies can be!»
The ambassador thought it best to go away. Immediately Graymore regretted her overreaction. She should have had the poor man fed in the palace kitchen and given him a bed for the night. It was clear from his emaciated appearance that he had been running for days.
And why did one dragon seem more dangerous to him than a pack? He should have seen the recent dragon raid on the capital of Livellin! He must have slept through every dragon attack. There’d been a few in recent years. If this was the first dragon he’d ever seen in his life, then no wonder he’d be so startled.
She’d seen enough dragons herself. They don’t scare her. Though there was something peculiar about this dragon. Graymore could feel him at a distance, and fire coursed through her veins.
«Come to me, Princess!»
The voice was in her mind’s throat, sticky as honey. It made it impossible to think of anything else but one dragon in particular. Graymore did not hear the ambassador’s speech continue. She dreamed of the monster in scales waiting for her in the mountains. Their battle would probably resemble a love match. This dragon smells her at a distance, as she does him.
So why has he not come to attack the capital if he needs her so much?
Skeleton Advisor
The skeleton was waiting for her in the tower. It was dressed in a sumptuous purple robe and crown, as if it were the ruler of a kingdom. The great wizard’s body had long since rotted away, but the skeleton remained. Sometimes he came back to life and even spoke, but no one knew about it except Graymore.
If she needed advice, she went to the skeleton. So today she went up to the tower for advice. The skeleton, which had been sitting motionless, immediately came to life as soon as Graymore crossed the threshold of the old tower. The jewels glittered enticingly in his bony hands, as if beckoning: try to rip them off me, and then the skeleton’s hand will strangle you.
Graymore had no use for the dead wizard’s jewels. But a footman who once tried quietly to remove a heavy gold chain with a medal from the skeleton’s neck was found strangled. No one had cleaned the tower since. Cobwebs stretched across the walls in festoons. Even the murky gold-framed mirror, thought to be magical, was covered in a thick layer of dust and draped in cobwebs.
The magician’s skeleton itself, barely alive and moving, began hastily shaking the cobwebs from his hands and crushing the spiders. Graymore turned away. The sight of a living skeleton catching the insects that crawled into the tower was not pleasant.
The skeleton already knew why she had come, and smirked defiantly with a lipless mouth. How not to gloat! The ruler of Livellin could not do without his advice. Graymore