Page 3 of No Ordinary Drakeling
In the low light provided from the glow of the logs in the fireplace, Chrysander watched his brother gain his feet. Chrysander snatched up his weapon and rose just as more thunderous knocking sounded. Damian ripped open the door to reveal Costas holding a bloody pile of linens. There were guardsmen behind him with lit torches and angry faces.
“The healer was killed days after we arrived, and we’ve yet to find one to replace her,” Costas said as he strode into the room with his bundle. “I did not know where else to bring him.”
“Him?” Damian asked.
Costas nodded and gently placed the soaked red sheets onto Chrysander’s bed. “A boy—Bernal’s son. He has many wounds and I do not know if he will live.”
“Where is Bernal that he is not attending to his child?” Damian demanded as he helped Costas unwrap the boy. Chrysander was familiar with Bernal’s son. He was a pleasant enough child—a shy boy of about seven summers who followed his father nearly everywhere. As the dukes peeled away the layers, Chrysander had a perfect view of the deep cuts and bruises covering every inch of the boy. Rage swept over Chrysander at a child so misused.
“Bernal is dead,” Costas flatly informed them. “His body has so many sword holes, it’s impossible to say which one was the mortal one. No one claims to know anything of it. I cannot remember this boy’s name but when I was informed of Bernal’s death and went to investigate, I found him. He’s near-unrecognizable.”
“Zane,” Damian stated as he frowned over the battered child. “The boy’s name is Zane.”
Chrysander turned to the cluster of guards in the doorway. “Bring rags and plenty of fresh water. We will attend to the child ourselves.”
“Aye, Your Majesty,” one replied, and the men hurried away.
“Thank Fate he breathes still,” Costas said. “I feared moving him would further wound him, but I could not leave him.”
“Let the castle know Zane is now under my protection,” Chrysander ordered, still seething over the pain the child had endured. “We will see that he survives. I want to know more of Bernal’s death.”
“Me too, though I shall not mourn him,” Damian grumbled.
Water and rags were soon located and brought to Chrysander’s chamber. The three men cleansed Zane’s wounds and breathed easier when he started to mend. Young though he may be, there was dragon blood in his veins which allowed him to heal quickly. When they were finished, Costas took his leave so he could bring them more details of Bernal’s death.
“There is a chamber attached to this one. He shall sleep there,” Damian said. “His father was a horrid man, but I will not see Zane punished for it.”
“Aye, we shall treat him as a brother.”
“I hate this castle,” Damian muttered.
“With Bernal dead, order should be restored soon. There is no doubt in my mind he was the leader of the treachery.”
“Chrys, I trust no one here but you and Costas.”
“A sad state for an emperor, but I must confess the same,” Chrysander said. “Burn these sheets and see if we can find some fresh linens. Zane shall have my bed until he is healed.”
Chrysander watched over the maltreated Zane as his twin hollered down the hallway for new bedding and made a vow that the child would not be hurt again. He wouldn’t have him suffer for the sins of his father, but he could not protect him from the truth. The former Imperial Duke orchestrated the murders of Emperors Drystan and Conley just as if he’d wielded the weapons of death himself. Only one question now remained in Chrysander’s mind: How many more men contributed their black hand to the plot?
