Читать книгу Tamlane – Prisoner of the Queen of the Fairies – 2. Release - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 6

The past came back in dreams, like a magic mirror. Tamlane would fall asleep or stare into the mirrored glass, surrounded like a frame by enchanted black roses, and see everything that had happened to them years before. If it weren’t for the mirror and the dream realm, he would have forgotten all about it long ago. Before he was captured by the fairies’ queen, he was young and naïve. His father was a duke. And Tamlane was his only son and heir to all his possessions. All the girls in the area knew this and were crazy about him. Because besides being rich and noble, he was also good-looking. It was a rare combination. Beauty as an elf, not as a mortal, many whispered. At that time Tamlane did not know that in time some evil force in the person of Medea Shai would try to make him a real elf. In those days he had lived a carefree life, learning the art of warfare, spending his days at the hunt and the roustabout, flirting with the ladies, listening to his old uncle’s tales of the great ancestors of their kind who had faced danger and magic.

His uncle was an alchemist. He knew all about rare metals and alloys. But even he didn’t know what the armor, which was shaped like a human-sized dragon’s body, was made of. They were so skillfully made that one could mistake whoever wore them for a steel dragon. Legend has it that they were made using both real magic steel and scales taken from the body of a dragon slain by his ancestor. Tamlein believed in these legends, but his uncle did not. He would sit up nights in his workshop, surrounded by ancient scrolls, strange implements, and retorts, trying to determine the nature of the metal’s origin. Tamlane’s father would not allow him to borrow the armor for experiments, but his uncle got hold of a glowing piece of scales from a helmet that resembled a severed dragon’s head. He’d stolen it one night from the armory. He joked that he’d met a beautiful fairy who’d flown through the keyhole in the moonlight and helped him get what he wanted. Of course, the love story between the now-aged uncle and the enchanting fairy seemed like a joke to Tamlane. But only until under the door of the armory he heard a maiden’s musical laughter and a melodious voice saying:

«I will fly to you with the moonlight and the next night. I will fly here as long as you wait for me. And if you want to leave with me, we’ll disappear from here together.»

«No, until I finish my experiments, I can’t leave. Understand, Mirabel, my brother, my nephew is in danger… unless I’m right. I must find confirmation of my hunch.»

A sad sigh sounded in reply, also reminiscent of music.

«So you will grow old and die before I have time to take you away. I can rejuvenate an old man, but I can’t bring a corpse back to life. Even the powers of a fairy aren’t enough to do that.

Intrigued, Tamlane looked out the ajar door. His uncle was sitting on the floor in front of his dragon armor shimmering in the darkness, and the translucent winged silhouette glowing softly beside him looked more like a disembodied ghost. Tamlein held his breath. Surely this must be some other experience. Uncle had only created an illusion! But that illusion moved, danced in the moonlight, and even kissed his uncle on the lips.

«You had better get rid of your armor,» warned the one whom Uncle called Mirabelle. «The spirit of a slain dragon still lives in it. He doesn’t realize he’s dead. And he is furious. He thinks you are holding him prisoner. As soon as he arrives at whatever body he sees fit, he merges with it. And trouble for the man who puts them on. The dragon will want to make him his own. And then he will wish to incinerate our magical realm as well, for we did not prevent his murder, and you people, for killing him. He doesn’t remember exactly what happened, but he wants revenge on the world. I can feel the flames about to erupt from this armor.»

She held up her transparent hand as if to catch the moon’s rays, and in her fingers a thin stream of flame shot from the dragon’s helmet, but it didn’t burn her, didn’t burn anything. It, too, seemed ghostly.

«These armors are about to summon someone,» Mirabel continued. «I sense that their chosen one is near. They all tremble at the prospect of merging with his living body. Dead dragon scales and enchanted steel in fusion with a human body will be the union that will destroy the world.».

That’s the common name for the evil ones. Tamlane tensed. And the fairy slid a glowing hand across the breastplate of her cloak, and the scales glittered as if she were reflecting a nonexistent flame. It must have lurked within the armor itself, for all the torches in the armory were out. If the moonlight didn’t shine unnaturally brightly into the room, you wouldn’t be able to see anything.

«I’ve got a present for you,» his uncle took out a necklace of seashells. He must have made it himself, and collected the shells near the castle on the seashore. They were amazingly embossed and the same size. Those are hard to match. And the necklace chain was made through his alchemical experiments. The thing came out amazing. But Mirabelle shook her head sadly.

«I can’t take it. You know I can’t. It’s material. And I am the Moonlight Fairy. I am made of ether. Material jewelry is not for me.»

As if to prove her point, she held out her hand to take the necklace, and her fingers slid right through it.

«Do you see?»

Mirabelle was so sad and lovely, but Tamlane was already focused on the armor. The metal dragon seemed to call to him, and the call burned his mind like fire. The armor demanded that he take it and put it on, that he wield it. But, after all, according to Mirabel, they would be the ones to own him.

Mirabel, however, is only a fairy. She is immaterial. Her presence here may turn out to be nothing more than an illusion or a dream. Why listen to her warnings.

«You and I were made for each other,» the metal dragon whispered. Its fiery whisper haunted Tamlane even as he stepped away from the armory door. The whisper was tempting. The young man only fought the temptation until word spread through the country that war had broken out in the kingdom. The old duke wanted Tamlane to gather a troop of his vassals and join the king in battle. After all, they, too, were only vassals of the king. If a threat was imminent, it was their duty to support their suzerain. So Tamlane decided it was time to take up his armor.

«You will be a young hero,» the steel dragon whispered in his sleep, enveloping him as if in metallic flame. In the dream, the dragon’s body was as illusory as Mirabel’s. But the dragon armor proved more desirable than even the fairy. Tamlane wanted it by all means. He longed for it like a lover. And the door of the armory was locked at all times, with sentries standing beside it.

«This armor cannot be taken without a special blessing,» his uncle explained to him. «Once upon a time, saints from Roshen were invited here to give their opinion on how dangerous this thing was. Somehow they got burned by the armor and forbade anyone to go near it. They could not take them with them, nor destroy them, nor remove the spell from them. All the people get burned by that armor.»

«Do you think this is magic?»

«I’m an alchemist, not a magician.»

«But they say it’s one and the same.»

«Not exactly,» his uncle countered. «I believe there is an intelligent explanation for everything, and there is no such thing as a logical interpretation of magic.»

«Maybe we don’t know it, but we’re looking for it.»

«That’s right,» the uncle squeezed the stolen scales from his armor and went to do experiments on them again. Not long after one such experiment he was found dead. Something in the workshop exploded. His uncle’s face was burned, as if a dragon had breathed on him. Tamlane saw the burned corpse and the inscription carved in relief on the table, «all my experiments I dedicate to the moonlight fairy Mirabella.» The uncle was a romantic, but he died by fire. Tamlane aspired to fire and glory.

The next night, when the armor called to him, the sentries at the door were asleep for some reason, and there was a key in the door. It was an unusual key with an image of a dragon’s head instead of the usual relief on the head. Tamlane turned it and entered. The armor shimmered and cast flames in the darkness. The helmet seemed to bring the dragon’s head to life. A hissing voice called out:

«Put it on! It’s yours! My hero! The second part of the dragon is you! Put on your armor and go into battle to crush the world!»

He was able to put on the armor himself without the help of a squire, though for other knights this was impossible. But the armor itself helped him. The metal clasps opened and closed by themselves. All he had to do was pick up his helmet. In these armor he felt as if his body had become fiery.

He left the castle without even saying goodbye to his father, lest he notice he was wearing forbidden armor. His detachment took banners and torches and rode out into the dead of night. They reached the battlefield in the midst of the battle. And it was Tamlane who proved to be the decisive force that helped the king to win. He was honored as if he was the king himself. Everyone thought he fought like a dragon. The young hero was praised. No one noticed the creepy black creatures that flew high above the battlefield, both in the midst of the battle and now.

«You are intervened! You stopped our queen from seizing another country in addition to Corund!»

Tamlane looked around, trying to figure out where the voices were coming from, but they reached his ears as if from heaven. He looked up and spotted the foul creatures, as if no one had ever seen them before.

«Our queen will burn you for this!» They hissed.

He must be imagining it. They couldn’t really talk like humans. Their hissing voices suddenly hit him in the head as if he’d been stabbed in the head with a dagger. And his armor felt like it was on fire. He felt a fever throughout his body, as if he was burning alive.

The dragon’s armor! It was enchanted. He shouldn’t have put them on. But without them he would not have won the battle. And their country would have been destroyed or overrun by an unknown enemy who attacked without warning.

They praised him loudly, and Tamlane walked away on trembling legs. He felt sick to his stomach. He burned like hell. And a black bird with a red stone in its forehead was flying quite low over the corpses of fallen warriors. Its luxuriant tail resembled a black fan. It made the bird seem like it was bringing a whole swath of night with it.

The strange creature, hunched and lanky, wandered across the field, leaning over the corpses of fallen knights and sniffing at them as if they were food. It flashed bright red eyes at Tamlane.

«You are no hero and no dragon!» It hissed. «You’re just a petty thief who stole the power that belongs to a dragon. Did you know that the dragon whose remains you carry was the lover of my queen? She will punish you! You interfere with her plans, and she will interfere with yours.»

They should have had soldiers capture and punish the tramp, but Tamlane was lenient. That cripple will not live long enough as it is. Even his skin was blackened by the sun, and his clothes were crumbling like ashes. He did not know then that his clothes were tattered wings, and that such limbs were well proportioned for Duergar, Finodirri, and other creatures whose mere name was difficult for a human to pronounce.

After his victory, Tamlane decided to take a shortcut home through the woods. He let the bulk of his party go so they could rest after the battle and travel more slowly along the wide road. He himself, with a small retinue of his best warriors, took the narrow forest path. The knights had to ride alone.

«The woods are dangerous!» Some hag that had met them at the edge of the forest warned them, he believe some of the locals called her Belladonna. «There are beings there, they’ll make a beast of you, winners.»

Tamlane merely grinned, but his warriors were grimly silent. Many believe in the lore of the forest dwellers and the existence of magic in the thicket.

«The fairies’ queen will not forgive you for using magic on her lands,» the old woman shouted after Tamlane, who had already passed.

«Was it magic?» He turned back in surprise as he held his steed.

«It is a dragon magic,» she pointed to his armor. «And you emptied the field of its leprechauns during the battle. Now they can steal only corpses, and if you had not intervened, they would have taken all this land for themselves. Like the land of that kingdom you were now fighting against.»

«Is she out of her mind?» Tamlane said to his knights when the old woman could no longer hear him. But it felt as if she could hear, even despite the distance that separated them, and condemned him for his carelessness.

He was tired. He held the helmet in his hands, and it felt as if the dragon-head that now merely slept in his hands was about to come to life and demanded from him some payment that he owed it for his grand victory over his foe.

Tamlane even had the compulsive urge to throw the helmet away. It seemed to move in his hands, and flames glittered in the narrow eyeholes.

«It is a danger!»

Was that voice coming from the armor? Is it from the helmet or from the trees? Tamlane looked around. His troop was moving slowly through the forest. The path was narrow. The knights had to go one at a time. They were pulled forward in a line. Everyone was tired. Tamlein thought it selfish of him not to let them rest after the battle, but he was in such a hurry to tell his father of his first great victory that he could not wait long. Would the old duke praise him? Or would he reprimand him for taking the wonderful armor without asking?

High above the woods there was a measured clapping, as if a huge bird were flying by. That must be how a dragon’s wings flapped in flight.

«There’s the one with hair that shines like the sun!» A voice said in the air. It felt as if someone had pointed a finger at Tamlane.

The young man froze! The dragon-head helmet really came to life in his hands. The horns and spurs of the steel snout were moving, the dragon ears of metal strongly resembled wings that were now moving, orange fire running through the scales. Tamlane almost dropped his helmet, and at that moment they were attacked.

«It is ambush!» It shouted one of his warriors. Tamlane had not even had time to draw his sword before they dragged him off his horse. They were clawing at him with agonizing force, as if they were going to rip him apart. He looked up and saw a hideous snout in front of him. It was neither beast nor devil. He had heard that this was what the creatures of the fae nation looked like. Trolls, goblins, harpies, whatever else they were called. They were winged, clawed, with horns and tails and fangs and tentacles and spiky growths on their backs. They swooped down on his warriors as if they were devils from hell. They stung with venom and fire. Yet he managed to draw his sword and cut off the hand of the one who had grabbed it. The creature howled and recoiled. Black blood gushed from its severed limb. Black, not red! Tamlane couldn’t believe it. He thought the mangled creature would have crawled away into the thicket, but it didn’t. The arm itself suddenly crawled back to him, like a living snake, it glued itself to the stump and reattached itself to his shoulder in an instant. All of his other enemies were just as easily restored. Their severed tails, hooves, spines, and even heads immediately crawled back. Tamlane himself was already holding the severed goblin’s head in his hands, the goblin screaming and making faces as it struggled back toward its decapitated body, which flailed about blindly bumping into trees in search of its lost body part.

Other warriors tried to carve out fire and burn the ghastly foes, but nothing worked. They also rose from their own ashes. No matter how many you chop them down, there are more and more of them. The dead come back to life, and new enemies jump out from everywhere: from behind bushes, from the tops of trees, from shallow forest creeks, and even from holes in the ground. There’s a whole army of them, and his warriors are few. The dragon’s armor had somehow lost its power in an instant. Tamlane could no longer feel the fire in him. Either magic had no effect against the foul folk, or the dragon armor had no desire to mess with them for some reason. That reason floated in the clouds. Tamlane could hear the armor on him whispering something about a woman against whom their fire was powerless. But it was just the woman that Tamlane did not see here. There were only monsters. They had already killed most of his warriors and were now tearing at their corpses with their fangs, like a wolf’s prey. Toward the end of the battle, beautiful creatures also appeared. They were elves with white hair and unusual weapons. They fired not arrows from their crossbows, but live snakes. Tamlane barely had time to fight them off with his sword, cutting the snake bodies on the fly. Someone wounded the young man with a claw in a place on his neck that was not protected by armor. The young man’s helmet was gone before the battle, and now he was reeling like a dragon’s head in the grass, seemingly devoid of magic.

Tamlane was losing his strength. A claw smeared with venom must have run down his neck, but the young man continued to stand up for himself. He noticed that the creepy creatures were beginning to fear him and were in no hurry to lunge at him again. He struck them too often and too hard with his sword, and they cooled their ardor. And so he was the last of the mortal knights left alive. And all around him the fiends were gathering. They surrounded him on all sides. The most beautiful elf moved toward him, grinning crookedly. He looked as if he wanted to seduce rather than kill, but the stiletto in his hand suddenly hissed in a human voice.

«I want his blood! His blood is sweet! Not exactly human blood! It is blood with the flame of a dragon!»

Tamlane couldn’t even believe it. Could it be that the blade itself spoke. It reflected some face that was not there, as if it existed inside the stiletto itself.

«You are the finest knight I will ever kill,» said the beautiful white-haired elf the others called Thierry. «You are a most worthy opponent.»

They fought a duel. The others watched. They believed in Thierry’s victory. But it was Tamlane who won. He threw his opponent to the ground, grabbed his white hair, and prepared to cut off his head. It might grow back, but how nice it would be to chop it off. This elf, by all appearances, is in charge here. If he could be overpowered, he could terrify them all.

«Halt!» the imperious voice came again from the heavens. «A mortal knight cannot do in my woods what I do not, nor can a dead dragon.»

She descended from the heavens, just slipped from the black dragon’s wing, and floated forward through the air, supported by a scarlet cloud. Her long curls resembled a train of black snakes, her dress itself was like a scarlet cloud with a black web of lace.

«Your Majesty!» The elves knelt before her, but Tamlane was not impressed by her beauty. The gloom emanated from the lady. The young man was disgusted to be near her.

She instantly understood and frowned, whispering something to a black bird that had landed on her shoulder. Tamlane did not take his sword away from Thierry’s throat, and the dark-haired beauty looked at the helmet lying in the grass with a sneer.

«You can’t throw a dragon’s head like that, or its power will leave you,» she scolded, and then she put her empty palm forward and blew on it, turning the air above her hand into a handful of glowing charms. The queen blew them right into Tamlane’s face. He was suddenly out of control. Darkness fell over his head.

He awoke in the queen’s chambers, gloomy and luxurious. In the magical fireplace danced multicolored spirits, from a distance seemed like a blaze of colored flames. Black flowers were singing from the ceiling, and their voices were whispering and alive.

«He is the mistress’ new captive,» they whispered. «What a handsome fellow!»

The queen shared their opinions. She ran her black fingernails over his skin, leaving witch-like patterns, and hummed something. Tamlane found himself chained to the wall by his wrists. He couldn’t feel his lower body, as if it didn’t exist. In fact, his legs had merely turned into the scaly tail of a turquoise lizard.

«Green would have suited you better,» the queen of the fairies, as the spirits and flowers called her, smiled. «But you’re not a very pretty lizard, are you? I think it’s time to change my passion for dragon limbs for something more romantic. What do you think?»

Tamlane didn’t know what to say, but she wasn’t addressing him. As it turned out, the darkness around him concealed an entire enormous black dragon, which hissed jealously at his mistress’ words.

«Jealousy is unnecessary,» the queen reprimanded him. «Jealousy is punishable, as is infidelity.»

She clawed Tamlane’s chin with her black claws and peered into his eyes. Her hypnotic gaze should have robbed him of his sanity, but it didn’t. The queen was furious. Her fingernails raked into the enchanted scales on his body, and he could barely contain his scream. The lizard’s tail was sensitive to pain. It felt like it was being skinned every time he touched it.

She wanted to kiss him, but she couldn’t. For some reason she stepped away. «You’re a mystery, though. At first I thought my dragon had come to life, but all you did was made armor out of it.»

«Not me,» Tamlane protested. «It was another mortal hero.»

«It is of no importance! You will be my hero and my guest in my bed for now. You should be glad you fought to win the sympathy of the fairies’ queen. My favor is not easy to gain. All magical warriors are at my service, and I wanted you. You are grateful to me.»

He only laughed, muffled and doomed. And the flames in the fireplace hissed, emitting colored sparks that were actually tiny creatures that sympathized with him.

«I’ll wake soon, and you’ll be gone,» Tamlane whispered. «I want you to be just a dream.»

«I am better as a dream,» she gently caressed his cheek.

«You are a night mosquito,» he corrected her.

«So I’m a nightmare to you?»

She didn’t even flinch when he nodded, and wrapped her supernatural arms around his head.

«I’ll still teach you to love me, make you love me if you have to, and in time you’ll learn that nightmares can be sweet.»

Her kiss tasted like poison. There was nothing heavenly about it. Unable to tear himself away from her lips and sigh, Tamlane realized he was in hell. Henceforth he was a prisoner of the fairies’ queen. There was no way to call this captivity sweet.