A Time For Dragons

Chapter Ten -- Madara

Mold, rot and fetid flesh greeted Madara and Vhaeryn as they entered the apothecary. Much like the rest of the castle the remnants of it's opulence clung to the ruins, each bit of gold and painted glass testifying to all that was lost. She went through the herbs one by one, some were beyond salvaging, but plenty remained good enough to replenish her supplies. Surgical instruments glimmered with newness on a shelf and she took them all, stuffing them into a bag full of texts she up ended on the floor. Vhaeryn stood in the doorway, his attention fixated on the journal.

"This is really good," she said to herself, grabbing scraps of linen along with a thick herbal.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Madara looked up and found Gerath in the doorway stepping around his cousin to stand by Madara's side. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze before returning to go through the stores.

"More than enough. I figure before long you'll have need of my talents." She glanced up at Gerath who leaned over inspecting the rotting body on the cot.

"No, we won't. You're going to stay far away from the fighting," Gerath grumbled.

"She doesn't—" Vhaeryn started.

"Doesn't what?" Gerath snorted. "Know how to take care of herself? Very astute observation and you're not at all thinking with your cock." He turned his back on them and walked along the bookshelf, caressing the spine of the books gathered.

Madara ignored the obvious bait and instead focused on taking all she could. It wasn't like the people of the keep would need it and a handful more months would see the herbs ruined beyond repair and the books gathering more mold and mildew than they already did. Vhaeryn joined her, keeping near enough that she couldn't ignore him, and when she lulled her head back to sigh, her head brushed his chest.

"How's your foot?"

"It hurts a little, but I've had worse." She touched where the arrow pierced her months ago. "Was it your sister who told the guards where we were that night?"

Vhaeryn opened his mouth to speak but never got a chance to respond.

"Yes," Gerath answered for his cousin, pulling a book from the shelf. "The traitorous bitch—"

"Watch your tongue—" Vhaeryn snapped.

"I'm sorry? Did I offend you by insulting your sister? Or was it because I insulted your lover?" Gerath's voice was low and rumbled in his throat. Vhaeryn didn't respond but Madara could feel the tension in his body and she wasn't even touching him.

Madara knew what those with Dragon Blood did, marrying their siblings and laying with their own kin to make certain there were always true dragons. Much as they liked to pretend it set them apart, it didn't. The only difference was they were prettier for it and not hideous misshapen simple wretches. Like most who grew up in the shadow of Black Dragon Keep she had a brief period of fascination with the Vaelian customs. She knew of dragon right and dragon brides, breeding out and breeding in and all myriad of other customs plenty raged over and claimed were distasteful though it had nothing at all to do with them.

"Gerath, stop being a prig." She crossed the room again to the book case, which put her next to Gerath. "You're in rare form today," she whispered.

"Should I be happy that you are willing to move the stars for him? Before long you'll take him to bed, and that warm slickness between your thighs will belong solely to him." Gerath handed her a smaller book, it was about brewing antidotes for poisons, the sort of book that every castle needed.