Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

K ormac couldn't believe it when he saw the first dragon soaring above his city. Shock turned to dismay as it breathed—literally opened its mouth and breathed—and turned his soldiers into ice statues.

How was he supposed to fight an enemy so high above his head? An enemy that could kill from afar?

He tried, throwing his spear with all his strength, but the dragon easily avoided it. It might have been utter frozen carnage if it hadn't been distracted by something.

Someone.

Fionna.

The sight of a woman standing at the top of his tower had him gaping.

He wasn't the only one.

"What's the envoy doing?" a soldier exclaimed.

Magic, apparently. No hiding or denying it. Her hands moved and a fireball formed. With it, she took down a dragon.

"She killed it!" someone yelled, which led to cheering.

He might have celebrated with his men only it seemed that beast was only the first. Three more came wheeling in and Kormac didn't know what to do other than advise the people in the open to hide.

While he remained powerless, Fionna acted. The woman stood there, a tiny figure at the highest point of his citadel, waving her hands around, dauntlessly taking on dragons.

"The envoy's a witch," someone yelled, finally realizing what should have been obvious.

"Maybe the dragon will eat her," suggested another.

To which Kormac turned and snarled, "You better hope not because she's the only one capable of taking those monsters down."

And the dragons knew it. After she took down the second, the remaining pair went after her, two against one. Kormac ran even as he didn't know how he could help. That didn't stop him from bolting for the citadel. Leaving his soldiers behind, he raced up the steps two at a time, ignoring the burn in his legs and lungs.

It took forever when counted in battle seconds, and by the time he reached his room, she'd vanquished another beast, or so he assumed by the hunks of flesh raining down outside his window.

He strode to it and glanced out, wondering how she'd managed to climb because the lip of the roof would have been too high for her to grab. Yelling from below drew his attention and he noticed his army craned to look upward, their attention fixated on what happened above his tower.

Instinct had him thrusting his arms out in time to catch a plummeting witch.

Kormac's heart pounded as he dragged Fionna into his bedroom and yelled at her for being foolish.

And what did she reply?

"You're welcome."

He blinked at her. "You almost died," he pointed out.

"Not really. I would have been fine."

"You would have been a stain on the cobbles," he growled.

"Can we argue later? There's still a dragon out there."

As if the words conjured it, the beast breathed on the tower.

Kormac reacted by throwing Fionna to the floor and covering her with his body as the frost entered the open window and limned the area around it in ice.

"Get off me," she grunted from under him.

"No, because you'll probably do something insanely stupid again."

"You mean like stopping it?" she retorted.

She had a point, but he struggled with his pride and an emotion that suspiciously felt like fear, not for himself but for her.

She shoved, and with more strength than should have been possible, heaved him aside.

Kormac sprang to his feet, but she'd already reached the window where she muttered, "It's heading for the city again. Bloody pest." She climbed onto the sill.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting back on the roof for a better angle." And then she was gone, floating upwards as if carried by an invisible hand.

He raced to look out in time to see her land on the roof. He heard the light tap of her feet as she moved higher up its peak. A glance toward his city showed the beast winging its way, spewing frost, coating buildings in ice.

Lances of light began firing from over his head, starting out fat but dwindling in size as they reached the dragon. Still, they packed enough punch to make it jerk and squeal. It veered from its frosting of the city to hiss in the direction of his tower.

Fionna kept lobbing magical lances one after another, but he noticed them fading in brilliance, shrinking in girth, as if she ran out of energy.

He couldn't let her face it alone. He climbed out the window and gripped the edge of the roof. Years of sword training had left his upper body strong, and so pulling himself up to the tiled surface where Fionna stood took little effort.

His lady witch stood grim-faced and paler than before. Her hands churned in constant motion. The missiles of light kept shooting but noticeably weaker.

Kormac planted himself in front of her but ended up slightly below given the pitch of the roof. He drew the sword he'd gotten earlier that day and waited.

As the screeching dragon came wheeling in and Fionna's magic fizzled, he did the only thing he could think of. He pulled back his arm and threw his new sword. It flew, straight and true, the blade suddenly glowing. The dragon, its vile gaze fixated on Fionna, never saw it coming.

The blade entered through the neck and sank to the hilt. It buried deep enough the dragon stopped moving. Its wings went limp and it fell to the courtyard with a thump he'd have sworn he felt.

It thrashed weakly, unable to stand. Dead, or it soon would be given the soldiers converging. He turned to find Fionna swaying on her feet.

"I might have used a little too much," she whispered before her eyes rolled back and she slumped.

This time she didn't shove Kormac away when he caught her. She remained unconscious which posed an interesting dilemma. How to get back in the tower?

It took some help—a.k.a. him bellowing for someone to get their ass in his room. The first soldier didn't look sturdy enough for his liking so he had another take his place. He carefully handed her down before following, swinging into his room and taking in the sight of two soldiers murmuring by his bed where they'd lain Fionna. Their chatter stopped the moment he entered.

It led to him growling, "What are you whispering about?"

"She killed those dragons with magic," stated Peter, the smaller of the pair.

"Aye, she did." Kormac braced himself to harangue the fellow if he turned it into an insult, only Peter smiled.

"That was amazing. I thought for sure those beasts were gonna freeze us in place and then she was like pow, pow." He mimed tossing lightning and Bruun, the bigger fellow, nodded.

"Ma and Pa always said the only good witch was a dead witch but if it wasn't for her, we would be dead." Bruun's lowly delivered praise.

Perhaps his people were capable of accepting Fionna as she was. Not just an envoy, but a magic tossing, too brave for her own good witch.

Of course, Peter and Bruun weren't all his men, but he didn't hear that grumbling until later.

For the moment, he had an unconscious lady in his bed. Someone fetched the doctor, the old one who'd been the first to suggest he ask the witch queen for aid. The only one he trusted with Fionna.

Doctor Keen examined her under Kormac's watchful eye, not a long process, before declaring, "She's fine, just tired. Let her sleep."

"How can you be sure?"

The doctor raised a bushy brow. "I heard what she did. Single-handedly took down four dragons."

"Three. I killed the fourth." He couldn't have said why he felt a need to point that out, especially since she'd been fighting it up until that moment.

"She used an intense amount of magic which took a toll on her body. A bit of rest is all she needs."

The verdict pleased and didn't. He wanted her awake now.

So he could yell at her for being insane.

And brave.

And foolish.

And incredible.

Rather than do any of those things, he headed down to check on his people. The bodies of the dragons had not yet been removed. He emerged to find the one that he'd killed lying limp on the cobblestones, leaking blood, surrounded by soldiers, some staring shell-shocked, others pointing and talking excitedly.

As he headed over to look at it more closely, he overheard conversations. No surprise much of it centered on Fionna.

"We didn't have dragons until she came here," several people muttered.

Another observation was, "I thought witches only hexed men's dicks. No one ever said they could fight."

But the most chilling… "Airiok was right to ban witches. They're trouble."

A ban long since repealed as too often those accused had nothing to do with magic. Still, centuries of mistrust remained. He'd have to address it. The sooner the better.

He climbed atop the carcass of the dragon he'd killed and pulled his sword free. It felt right in his grip and, even better, when he needed it, had flown farther and truer than he could have hoped.

As he held it aloft, one of his men shouted, "Hail the warlord, the mighty dragon slayer."

The soldiers below cheered for him who'd killed one and yet spoke poorly of the one who took down three. Never mind a few weeks ago he might have muttered with them. He'd seen things to make him realize the world was more complex than all witches were bad. Today, a witch had done something incredible, and it was time people recognized action versus ingrained hatred.

"Today we were lucky. Lucky to have the envoy of Acca with us. Without her, this battle with these monsters of legends would have ended poorly." He waved the tip of his sword in the direction of the soldiers frozen in place. "We owe our thanks to the envoy and her magic. Thanks, not misguided hatred. Respect, not rude commentary." He let his gaze slide over the men present listening. "I will not tolerate anything less. Understood?"

"Yes, Warlord," they shouted while thumping their chests.

There would still be some who would complain and spout, but he couldn't expect ingrained attitudes to change with one battle. Maybe once a few lost their heads, though…

Orders were given to dispose of the dragons, which included giving some of the meat to the chefs who wanted to see if it was palatable. Kormac agreed but only after getting them to promise to test the meat first. The last thing he needed was for people to get sick as food poisoning would most likely be blamed on Fionna.

With his men all busy with tasks, he headed into the citadel to check on Fionna. She remained asleep in his bed, a tiny figure with so much might. Knowing witches could fight and seeing it? Two different things. What other surprises did she have hidden within?

And why did he want to explore them all?

Since pacing didn't wake her, he headed down to visit Lomar, the man he would usually go to when agitated. Despite the commotion outside, his guards had remembered to put Lomar in chains when night fell. Kormac entered to find his friend standing, looking out the window.

Only when he turned to face Kormac, it wasn't his friend looking out of the eyes. "What a pity you survived my surprise."

"You sent the dragons?" Kormac barked.

"Hardly sent. Those wild things tend to do what they want, but they are open to suggestions, especially when it involves food."

"Your attack failed." Kormac offered a flat reply.

"Did it? Where is the witch? Did the dragons eat her?" Asked with a malicious grin.

"She's resting after killing three by herself. I see why you're scared of her. She's quite powerful."

The thing hissed. "She is nothing. A weak weaver of threads, nothing more."

"Yet you want her dead."

"As should you. Airiok was right, you know. The only good witch is a dead one." It cackled, repeating what his men had said earlier.

It led to him frowning. "What do you know of Airiok?"

"The stable boy turned warlord. The shit shoveler turned killer." It giggled.

"He's the one who had you locked away."

"Not he, but his wife. She was magnificent and could have been so much more had she ditched her husband. Do your histories tell how she was the one to push him to take control of the territories?"

"Airiok's wife Elaine didn't marry him until he'd been established for more than a decade," Kormac corrected the entity.

"Not that milksop. His first wife. Laurella."

Kormac frowned. "I've never heard her mentioned."

"Because Airiok didn't want anyone to know what she'd done. If they knew the truth, they would have strung him up by the heels." The thing in Lomar's body chuckled.

"What did his first wife do?"

"What didn't she do? Pity you lost his journal. It would have answered all your questions."

A rigid Kormac growled, "What do you know of the journal? Who took it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Tell me." Kormac stood nose to nose with Lomar. His arms tingled at being so close.

"Going to beat me? Go ahead. I won't feel a thing, but your friend will."

"Argh." Kormac stalked off as the thing laughed and laughed.

He exited the dungeon and debated checking on Fionna, but he heard raised voices. One sounded suspiciously like his mother. It shouldn't have surprised she'd rushed back given the attack.

He entered the dining hall to hear his mother holding court. "…shall demand she be removed immediately. There is no place for witches and their wicked magic in our territory," his mother yelled, and while many chose to not react, some cheered and slammed their tankards in agreement.

Before he could rebuke his mother, Lady Frieda—who rarely came to the citadel—swept into view of the head table, spitting, "That witch saved the city and its citizens."

"She's the reason why the dragons are here," his mother rebutted.

"No, she isn't," Kormac stated loud enough for everyone to hear. He stalked toward his mother, a glower on his face. "We spotted a dragon when I visited Risead Pass, weeks before her arrival."

"And it most likely came to Wexkord because of her," his mother argued.

"Now you just sound foolish," he harshly stated. "It is a wild animal, most likely drawn by the herds that have been travelling for the yearly trading festival." The farmers ran the flocks to the border of Ulkruuba where merchants bought them en masse.

"She doesn't belong here!" his mother insisted.

"That's where you're wrong," Lady Frieda announced. "My granddaughter has every right to be here."

A dead silence fell before his mother sputtered, "You have no grandchildren. Your only daughter fled with that merchant."

"She left, yes, and had a child. Pretty sure you know how that happens, seeing as how you birthed one. Then again, given your mouth, it could be Gurlok chose to do his duty while you were asleep," Lady Frieda stated with a curled lip.

His mother huffed. "Even if she is your granddaughter, she's still only a half-blood."

"So what? It's not like she's the only one. Why, I do believe your own sister married an Ulkruuban."

His mother's face turned red. "That's different. They're our closest neighbors."

Lady Frieda laughed. "Just like my daughter's husband. Also, when you speak of my granddaughter, you will do so with respect as she is a lady of this territory."

"A witch can't be?—"

Kormac cut off his mother. "The title of lady is Fionna's right by birth, and she will be treated with respect not only because of her blood, which I will remind comes from a noble family that's been around for generations, but because today she showed a bravery rarely seen. She didn't cower and hide when the dragons attacked. She climbed atop the highest tower where she expended herself in defense of this city and everyone living in it. The only words I should be hearing from anyone are thanks. Thanks that she did have magic and we are not all frozen outside like those poor soldiers caught by the dragon's breath. Or are you so caught in a hatred with no basis other than habit to recognize that without her, we'd most likely all have perished?"

His mother's mouth opened and shut, but she didn't speak, his father did. "Well said, my son. I've long been bothered by this hatred of the witches of Acca. They're actually quite a nice bunch."

"What would you know of them?" his mother hissed.

"Did I not mention my meetings with their queen? Lovely woman. I hear Fionna is not only the queen's adjutant and envoy, but her personal ward. A lady twice over."

With that announcement, his mother stalked off, and Lady Frieda beamed at Kormac. "Thank you for your words."

"Don't thank me for the truth. Fionna saved us today and it's long past due we rid ourselves of baseless prejudice."

"Such a good man you raised," Lady Frieda said to his father.

"He is. Since I appear to have lost my dinner companion will you join me for a meal?"

"I actually came to check on my granddaughter."

"She's resting," Kormac informed her. "The doctor says she overtaxed herself."

"She must be feeling better. I went to her room, but she wasn't there."

Kormac felt heat in his cheeks as he mumbled, "She's in my bed."

The Lady Frieda lifted a brow.

"Because it was closest," he hastened to explain. "She fainted and we lay her down after bringing her in from the rooftop."

"Highly improper," Lady Frieda sniffed.

"I assure you, nothing untoward has happened, and the door is being guarded by two of my most trusted men." Peter and Bruun who'd shown they admired Fionna and wouldn't be likely to kill her in her sleep.

"I'd like to see her."

"Here I am." Fionna's sudden arrival choked all conversation in the room.

The dead silence also came with stares.

His father broke it by slamming down a tankard and shouting, "Long live the lady witch dragon slayer!"

Fionna's eyes went wide as the room erupted in cheers and more slamming of mugs.

Lady Frieda hastened to Fionna's side and led her to a seat, the one beside Kormac's. He leaned over to murmur, "How do you feel?"

"Better. Although I fear I won't be able to work on Lomar's curse until tomorrow at least."

"He can wait a day."

Only it turned out that was one day too long, because in the wee hours of the morning, just before dawn, a pounding at Kormac's bed chamber door led to a grim announcement. "Lomar escaped."