Snippet #2194485

Contalabutte surveyed the courtyard outside of Castle Spindewas, pleased that it looked so miserable. The servants were stressed, unhappy, losing their hair and aging before his eyes. Even the prickly roses seem to wilt in despair. Briarose should be glad to leave her castle of 120 years for a bit.

He watched the dragons land, which was very much routine for him. Bujinnor, his dragon, was a familiar sight. Like Bujinnor, Contalabutte ignored Vrael’s spiteful muttering. He listened closely to the message from Bujinnor, delivered in the privacy of his mind. Contalabutte did not like servants that were repetitive about their messages, but Bujinnor was the exception. He appreciated his dragon and the adoration he showed.

‘You will be coming with us, Bujinnor. My trust in the Darahurne is lessening every moment I spend with them. But we can not forget their value as allies. We must humor them,’ Contalabutte returned a telepathic message to Bujinnor. He was not so skilled as the dragon in doing so, and so his mental speech was simple and halting.

After a bout of commentary, Vrael gave Contalabutte a slick and gooey badge. Contalabutte’s face torqued in disgust as he held the thing. It was worth an examination, though, as he saw that it was Fey-made and originated from Effledus’s royal palace.

“That is most interesting, Vrael, about your trip to Effledus. I look forward to finding out just what you mean,” the Emperor replied duly, handing the wet badge back to the Darahurne. When Vrael addressed Briarose, Contalabutte noticed that his wife stepped closer to him. He surmised that the Darahurne, ugly creatures that they were, must frighten her a bit.

“You may address my wife as Empress Briarose,” Contalabutte snapped at Vrael. Then he cleared his throat and tenderly touched Briarose’s arm. “Bujinnor and I will keep them in line, my love.”

With that said, he gestured towards Bujinnor’s middle, where a team of servants awaited to help them aboard the elaborate saddle, which was built up with a canopy to provide shelter to the riders. It was similar in structure to a litter, except it was powered by a dragon and not humans. It was very secure as well, with armored walls like the dragon, and there could be seen inside the windows many silken cushions to recline on.

“Ladies first,” Contalabutte insisted to Briarose, handing her off to the servants to be lifted into the saddle. Another dragon was being boarded with Briarose’s ladies in waiting. The third was being loaded with their luggage.
---
Briarose wasn't even aware that she had stepped away from the Darahurne. Contalabutte's hand on her arm made her turn. Empress. The word sounded forgein to her ears. She was Princess and then Queen. It didn't matter what she thought, Contalabutte wanted an Empress and so he had taken another one.

She looked almost blankly to where he gestured. The dragon it seemed was her transportation to the mountains. This one seemed to be under Contalabutte's control. This one she knew for it had helped him win against her husband, it had helped Contalabutte kill him and take his kingdom. Now she was expected to ride on him. Her hand was passed to a servant's who began to help her into the structure on the dragon. Compliant, Briarose let both her husband and the servant move her as they would.

"I am sorry Ruffdor."

Briarose's eyes moved back to the darahurne. She watched them through the window as she manouvered her dress. It was tucked to one side and Briarose sat on the cushions.

It was warm and comfortable and in different circumstances she might have dozed off. Briarose was far too conscious of how small the space was, how close Contalabutte would be to her once he joined her inside.

Her eyes closed and the image of the pixie messenger in its cage came forth in her mind's eye. The thing sitting behind the bars, just as she sat now.

A shiver overtook her. The pixie, her message. Briarose had no way of knowing if and when Day would get the pixie or what his reaction might be.

"Mortimus protect them...please." She wished the dragon could hear her.

Her hand clenched as she heard what sounded like another person climbing into the litter with her. Briarose turned her head, her eyes looking towards a window. Under her she could feel a faint movement as the dragon shuffled his feet and took his breaths.

It was not at all like being on horse back or in a carriage but an odd mix of the two. Briarose blinked. "Must not sleep." She wondered if the tea she had drunk had more than herbs to stimulate her appetite in it. It wouldn't be the first time that the kitchen had tried to ensure her rest.

"Little flower..." She gagged a little. Briarose could still hear the darahurne's voice in her head.

--

As Briarose was settled into the litter, Contalabutte thought back on what Bujinnor had told him, speaking that he feared for his life. The Darahurne were not creatures worthy of trust, as powerful as they were. And Contalabutte knew that he would not feel secure unless he had his most trusted General along with him.

“Franste,” Contalabutte turned to his chief advisor. “Has General Alcide received my summons?”

“Yes, Emperor. I sent a message to him the moment you mentioned it,” Franste replied dutifully.

“Good. We will not leave without him,” Contalabutte said, throwing his lavish cape to the side with a flourish. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the horizon. He often thought of General Alcide, wondered about him. The man held the title of the Greatest Swordsman of the Empire--everyone spoke of how he was impossible to beat, how he wielded the sword of an ancient king. His name was always on someone’s lips. He was so good--too good. Contalabutte couldn’t help but wonder how Alcide would fare in a fight with the Darahurne.