“Let our enemies beware! We will rain fire down upon them. We will execute all traitors, just as we are executing the one you see before you!"
Rumbling growls echoed from Elouan’s chest. He’d gladly slay the traitor before him without a trace of remorse.
Once Urien nearly glowed from all the praise heaped upon him, he traipsed through the admiring throng, Gwythyr at his side, whispering into the fake king’s ear.
Urien paused and focused his gaze on Sakaris. "I have decided. Break his wings and throw him off a cliff.”
Far too many of the assembled dragons chanted,“Long live King Urien, long live King Urien!”
What? Forcing a shift, only to break Elouan's wings… Killing him outright would be more merciful. Urien didn't believe in mercy. Not to his brother, nor to his brother's sons.
If the Goddess granted Elouan his fondest wish, he’d show no mercy to Urien when they next met, be it in this life or the next.
Breaking wings was horrifying enough, the doomed knowing they would never fly again. In ancient times, the king's enforcers would’ve left a broken dragon chained for days in agony before finally sending the poor creature to its death.
Soon Elouan would be airborne for the last time, even if only for a few brief seconds. Many dragon bones littered the cliff's base, from murderers to other criminals to enemies. Elouan had done nothing wrong but be his father's son.
Urien addressed the crowd in a booming voice. "I, Urien Thorne, am your rightful king. Bow and pledge to me now, suffer the same fate as the usurper, or face banishment."
Usurper? Elouan hadn't tried to take the throne. He’d been the heir. Too many of the court wanted Father’s leadership. Toomany for Urien to allow Elouan to live and perhaps return one day.
One by one, the crowd followed their self-proclaimed king from the bowl, many taking a torch with them. Gwythyr cast a haughty glare as he passed.
Elouan glanced up. The removal of most torches allowed him a view of the sky. Beautiful night tonight, the perfect chance for flying. He noted the positions of the stars. If he must die, may his gaze remain fixed on the heavens when he drew his last breath.
Sakaris said he wouldn’t abandon Elouan. Did he mean a merciful death? Elouan stood, shaking off the humiliation of being made to kneel before his uncle.
Finally, only he and Sakaris remained in the bowl, along with a few guards who stood around the exits. Sakaris gave Elouan a weary smile, sorrow filling his soulful brown eyes. “I cannot tell you how this pains my heart to see my good friend’s son falsely condemned as a traitor.”
Was Sakaris still loyal? Could Elouan hope?
Elouan lifted his hand to rest on Sakaris's shoulders. His shackles held him back. "Sakaris, for love and loyalty to my father, please spare my brothers."
Keeping his normally booming voice low, the old dragon replied, “I suggested banishment for them, as they’re not alphas and can’t take the throne, but he’ll never find them. I’ve already seen to their safekeeping.”
“They’re still alive?” Despite the circumstances, hope flared in Elouan’s heart. Please let his brothers be alive. Deep inside, in the place where a sibling connection formed seasons ago, he concentrated on his brothers now that he was free of the dampening effect of the dungeons.
“Yes, Your Highness.” A not-quite-smile lifted one side of Sakaris’s mouth.
Alive! They were alive! Elouan delved deeper than usual inside himself, searching for the connection. If they were alive, he’d have to feel them. Deeper and deeper he went until a tiny spark grew into a flame. Daire! He’d found Daire!
“What of Anrai? He’s so young to be alone in the world.” Why couldn’t Elouan sense him? Wait! There! Not a spark, but more like a vibration. Music? No denying Anrai.
Flame and music. His brothers.
Sakaris gave a bit more of a smile. “He’s not alone. I assure you. You yourself tasked an honorable man with his well-being. Teron would give his own life before he allowed any harm to come to Anrai.”
Teron. So he’d survived, too. Elouan nearly groaned in relief. He met Sakaris's eyes. "I hate putting this burden on your soul. You have been my father’s lifelong friend. It shouldn’t fall to you to kill me, or do you delight in doing Urien’s bidding?"
"It's no burden at all, Prince Elouan." Sakaris spoke softly, kindness in his dark eyes.
What? "You want me dead?"
"Nay. I’m wanting you in your rightful place, king of High Reaches, and producing young to play pranks on a tired old dragon like you and your brothers did."
Another bit of hope flared to life in Elouan’s heart, gone in an instant. "I can’t be king. I have no mate."
Sakaris rolled his narrow shoulders. "A simple enough problem to remedy, I think."
