Chapter 2
992 Words
The cave had a smell, not unpleasant like the corpses on the path, but something that reminded me of the temples of Seigradh, the smoky tones of dracaena and cinnabar, mixed with something that I could not put a name to. It surprised me that a dragon’s cave would smell of incense. But then, what had I expected it to smell like? Sulphur, char and burnt corpses? I imagined that the stench was as offensive to dragon’s noses as it was to mankind’s.
Several meters in, there were smaller caves to either side. One contained an upholstered chair and table, and shelves of leatherbound books, another held chests and bolts of luxurious fabrics, many with gold or silver thread, and the finest muslin. A bed was within another, nearer to the main cavern, decadently dressed in furs and silks. What use did a dragon have for a man-sized bed? I wondered.
My eyesight was adjusting to the dark as I drew closer to the main cave. The amount of gold underfoot was increasing, interspersed with both cut and uncut gemstones, their colours lost to the monochrome of the darkness. I crunched one under my foot and froze. Hopefully it was not priceless, I thought ruefully as I scuffed the stone fragments to the side. But then, the dragon must damage quite a few of the stones himself, coming and going, and would not be angered by my accidental crushing of one… Two, I amended as another c***k occurred underfoot.
The scent of incense was gradually growing stronger.
The tunnel opened into a massive chamber, darkness and shadows in greys and blacks indicating its vastness. In the centre, the treasure pile was of bewildering scale. I could build a small castle from the gold, with windows made of gemstones, furnished with gold and silver plates, cups, and utensils.
There were several thrones around the chamber, wine bottles and books at their sides, as if the dragon regularly had visitors to join him around the treasure pile, for book discussions over wine.
Another small cave towards the rear of the cavern held signs of being used as a kitchen, with a fireplace venting up into a natural opening in the rock, a table and two chairs, shelves on the walls containing crockery, and several chests pushed up against the wall. Did his book and wine visitors stay for dinner? What did a dragon serve?
One chamber had pierced through to a natural spring, and claw marks showed that the dragon had gouged out a bowl for it to collect in. Did he drink from it? Or, perhaps, his book and wine visitors bathed in it, I thought facetiously, as it would make a generously sized bath.
The one thing the dragon cave lacked, and the one thing I had come for, was a dragon.
Where was he?
I had not imagined it this way and was unsure of how to proceed in his absence. In my mind, there would be fire, and roaring, and I would valiantly yell my needs at him, moving him with the plight of the brethren of my kingdom, and hopefully saving my life just as he was about to turn me to ash. I would mount his back and we would immediately fly to the Fae Court, and by midday tomorrow, the Fae would march to war saving Uyan Taesil and my brother…
Perhaps not the most realistic of imaginings.
I decided the best thing to do was take one of the thrones and wait for him. I would be in the open, not hiding, and therefore he would not mistake me for a thief. I sat to wait. The arms of the throne were smooth beneath my hands, as if from frequent use, and there was a bottle of wine by the chair that still contained liquid. It had been an exhausting climb, so I poured the wine into one of golden goblets and drank it cautiously. It was a good wine, well-aged, and with the heat of potency behind its smooth berry accents. I poured myself another.
The night aged slowly. I wandered the caves, investigating the contents as much as the poor light would let me. The kitchen smelled of drying herbs, but the fireplace was cold to the touch. A fire had not been lit there today.
I washed my hands and face in the pool of water and tried to tidy my dress. It was a hopeless effort however, it was unsalvageable. There were clean dresses in the chests in the cave where fabrics were kept, beautiful dresses in expensive fabric, cut in styles of eras past, but I would not steal, even with the temptation of a bath and clean clothing.
I lay down on the bed. The incense scent originated from the cushions. It was caught in the fabric, not overwhelming, just pleasantly present as I lay my head down on the down-filled pillows. It smelled, I thought, quite wonderful actually. Masculine.
I would not sleep, I told myself. It would be a very bad idea to fall asleep. But then, I did not think a sleeping woman would present him much of a threat. Still, not a good…
I screamed as I was hauled to my feet before my mind had fully awoken or my eyes adjusted from sleep to wake. A very big man with violet eyes, a wild tangle of golden hair, and a lot of naked flesh, dragged me through the tunnel and onto the ledge. He was growling as he did so, and his grip communicated his strength and his anger.
The muscles in his arms stood out against his skin as he held me out over the edge by my throat. I felt the wind grab my skirts, and saw it lift the golden strands of his hair. My feet frantically sought purchase and I managed to plant my tiptoes on the very lip of stone.
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