Phoenix Gift

Chapter Twelve

A guard stepped forward at the castle gate as they approached and demanded, “What business do you have here?”

“A dinner, I imagine,” Xavier answered. The guard did not seem amused by the casual retort. “I am Xavier Keldon-Zephros, King of Milagros.”

“Your Majesty,” the guard dropped to one knee. “You are expected.”

“As I imagined. Are we to enter the castle grounds or camp outside its gates?” Xavier demanded, unimpressed by the guard’s reaction.

“Raise the portcullis! Inform his Majesty his guests have arrived,” the guard stood as the creaky iron gate slowly rose, allowing them admittance to the castle.

Unlike Castle Zephros, with its light walls, large windows and gold trim, Castle Culan was dark and oppressive. It was a fortress for wartime. Alexis huddled close to her father with unknown apprehension. Cadmus rode in her lap, growling at everything and nothing, irritated by the fear of the people inside and the maligned thoughts he sensed.

A servant met and escorted them to their chambers while Xavier’s servants tended the horses. Like the outside, the interior was dark and gray. Though tapestries hung on several walls, their color was faded and sickly. Alexis clung to Xavier’s side, not knowing why she felt uncomfortable.

Cadmus crept along beside her, sniffing and growling at everything he passed. The servant led them to a tower before nervously gesturing for the wizards to follow him to other accommodations. A Milagrian knight followed at Xavier’s nod. He did not want to leave anything to chance. Picking Alexis up, he led the others up the tower to the prepared rooms. When their trunks arrived, he left Alexis in the ladies’ care to prepare for the formal dinner to come as he went to change himself.

Xavier emerged from his quarters in formal attire. It was rich in color and finely sewn. Park and Sir Evan were also nobly attired, though they looked uncomfortable in formal dress.

“I haven’t dressed like this in a long time,” Park sighed.

Xavier nodded, his gaze drifting to the past, and said, “The last ball I attended was before Alexis was born and that was in this very castle.”

Park grimaced. It had been a ball to celebrate Harrod’s marriage. Though Akina had attended as Xavier’s partner, that didn’t stop several ladies from trying to catch his attention. All were summarily dismissed, but it left a sour memory. Afterward, Xavier was reluctant to attend such gatherings, not wanting to subject Akina to such blatant disrespect even though she was his wife and queen.

“What of M’zuzi and Tavel?” Xavier asked, changing the subject.

“Servants are terrified of them. They thought it was best to avoid attention. I’m keeping at least one knight stationed there in case there is trouble. They are rotating shifts so that they can rest, but I told them to remain on alert.”

“Abu!” Alexis called, diverting any further thought to the wizards’ situation.

“There’s my Princess,” he smiled and hugged her. “Let me see you.”

Alexis twirled, giggling. Her fitted, lavender dress was more formal than she was used to and bounced as she fidgeted. She wore a silver circlet as a symbol of her station. Cadmus proudly sat beside his young mistress; his bell appeared newly polished. Xavier had reservations about letting the dragon accompany them, but Alexis would be happier and more comfortable with the dragon close by.

“Ready?” Xavier took Alexis’s hand and led the way to the reception hall.

He did not fear King Harrod Culan. Though no treaty existed between the two kingdoms, Milagros and Harleigh enjoyed a long friendship. Still, he hoped their stay would be short. Their mission was urgent. A servant arrived to escort them to dinner. They walked down the stairs to the banquet hall where Harrod and his family waited.

“Xavier,” Harrod greeted, “it has been a long time. I apologize for not meeting you myself, but we weren‘t expecting you for several more days.”

Xavier smiled as he embraced his friend and said, “There is no need for apologies among old friends.”

“You know my wife, Eugenia,” Harrod stepped back, one hand still on Xavier’s shoulder. The King gestured to a woman in a sparkling gown.

Xavier nodded to her and received a nervous laugh in return.

“And my children,” Harrod proudly introduced, “Prince Briceton and Princess Hara.”

According to Southern custom, Harrod’s family wore extravagant attire. Although neutral in color, the cloth was embroidered with gems and golden thread. It was billowy, especially at the arms and seat. Xavier’s fitted attire, rich in color, was consistent with Western Continent style, a great contrast to his host. He nodded to the children. The prince bowed. Only seven, he was well versed in court airs. Little Hara was only two and managed a respectable, if unsteady curtsy.

“And my daughter,” Xavier presented Alexis, who stood beside him, “Alexis.”

“Hello little one,” Harrod smiled as she tried her own unbalanced curtsy. “By the Phoenix, she looks just like her mother. Speaking of whom, I do not see her.”

“No, she could not come. She—” Xavier broke off, unable to finish.

“Say no more. Traveling by sea was always difficult for her,” Harrod nodded. “Give her our best, won’t you?”

Xavier bowed his head, wishing he could. Traveling through the barrier was difficult for Akina, but never once did she avoid it when it was necessary. She would not have stayed behind this time either. Alexis retreated to stand beside Lady Whitney. More versed in courtly behavior, Whitney had chosen a suitably neutral gown. It lacked the decoration of the Royal, as was expected of her lower rank. Even the soft lavender of Alexis’s dress stood in sharp contrast.

“She truly is a vision, Xavier. You must be very proud,” Harrod complimented, “though, she is not a son.”

“I have told you before, Harrod,” Xavier shook his head, but smiled. “Milagros governs under different laws. The oldest, whether son or daughter, is entitled to their parents’ lands and titles.”

“Yes,” the other King nodded. “Strange customs of the West, eh?”

“What’s that?” Briceton exclaimed and pointed to the long dining table.

Eugenia screamed and clutched her daughter, who was already drowning in fabric. On the table, Cadmus busily nosed the covered silver trays.

“Deesa arsen, Cadmus!” Alexis exclaimed. “You’re not supposed to be on the table! Where are your manners?” [1]

Cadmus squeaked and hopped off the table. Looking decently admonished, the dragon sat in front of her, head bowed.

“What is that thing?” Briceton demanded, hesitantly looking over Alexis’s shoulder and eyeing the lithe reptile.

“Cadmus isn’t a thing,” Alexis answered. “He is a dragon.”

“It’s awful small to be a dragon,” Briceton sneered.

“He is my friend,” Alexis said, not liking the boy’s glare.

“I remember Akina having a little dragon,” Harrod said, trying to overcome his surprise.

“Cadmus would be that dragon,” Xavier nodded, “he’s as loyal to Alexis as he was to her mother.”

“Eugenia, this is the little beastie I told you about,” Harrod laughed. “A real clever thing. Helped us a few times during the War. Do you remember?”

Eugenia nodded, still holding her daughter close.

“Want to see a trick?” Alexis asked.

Briceton only stared at the diminutive reptile. His eye held a certain gleam, like a cat watching a mouse. Alexis turned and grabbed a silver fork from the table and said, “Here Cadmus, fetch!”

Alexis threw the fork as high and far as she could. Without hesitation, Cadmus took wing and flew after it. Briceton ducked, assuming an attack. Eugenia screamed in surprise but quickly silenced herself. Cadmus swooped, caught the fork in midair and landed in the middle of the wide Hall. The dragon ran back to Alexis with a comical, bobbing gait not unlike a ferret. Cadmus set the fork at Alexis’s feet, backed a step and excitedly barked for the next throw.

“Should I throw it again, abu?” Alexis asked.

“Once is enough, Alexis,” Xavier shook his head. “You shouldn’t throw things indoors.”

“I’m sorry,” Alexis picked up the fork and placed it back on the table. “I won’t do it again until we’re outside.”

“Good girl,” Xavier nodded and turned to his host with a wry smile.

“Some energy she has and the dragon too, given its age,” Harrod struggled to regain his composure, reminding Xavier they were on uncertain ground.

“I know you are wondering why we came.”

“Now, now,” Harrod warned, more relaxed, “tonight is for pleasure. I’ll not hear a word about duty and quests. It can wait until tomorrow.”

They sat down for, as Xavier expected, an extravagant meal. Cadmus sat at Alexis’s feet as she secretly fed him morsels from her plate. Harrod encouraged Xavier to tell tales of their youth when both were princes and war raged across the lands of Nuwa. It seemed long ago, though it was barely twenty years past.

“There was a wizard, you know,” Harrod told the children. “He was blacker than evil itself.”

“A wizard, like the ones his Majesty Xavier brought?” Briceton asked.

“No, young Prince,” Xavier answered. “The wizards traveling with me are good. One of them helped to defeat the Dark One.”

Harrod seemed a bit taken back, but didn’t say anything about Xavier’s traveling companions as a bard entered the room and, hearing their conversation, sang songs of war and knightly valor. He sang how the kingdoms of Nuwa united against the evil wizard and his dark legions of goblins, stressing the valor of the men who fought the dark power. Xavier wondered why the bard didn’t mention the griffins and dwarfs of the West, or the dragons of the South that also fought. It was odd to hear such songs with the absence of their powerful allies.