The Azure Rider Ch. 01

Agatha had been so busy racking her brains, trying to remember whether she had heard anyone talk about the Rider that she did not notice Orion standing on the doorway of his bedchamber, holding the door open for her.

"Agatha," he prompted in a low voice, staring at her blankly with those unnerving blue eyes.

"Sorry, General," Agatha ducked inside the chamber, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.

The Dragon Rider's bedchamber was spacious and minimally furnished with pinewood furniture. A large four-poster bed stood in the middle, cleanly made. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their candles freshly replaced. A roaring fire crackled in the fireplace and a burnished desk stood in one corner, with a straight backed chair in front of it. Scrolls were piled atop the work surface of the desk, and an ink pot and a battered eagle feather quill lay waiting on one side. Agatha jumped as the bolt on the door behind her was drawn. She whirled around to find herself staring at the Rider leaning against it, effectively trapping her inside. His impassive countenance offered no information on his thoughts, and Agatha found herself shivering uncontrollably, whether from fear or from cold she could not tell.

"What do you want?" Her voice sounded unnaturally high to her own ears.

Orion beckoned her closer with two of his fingers.

Agatha thought quickly. Even if she put a curse on the Rider and managed to escape, somehow, past the portcullis and past the guards, she had already informed him that she lived at the Keep. Multiple men had seen her come in here. She would be hunted down and executed if she so much as hurt a hair on the head of the only Dragon Rider Lohenstraad had ever seen. So, she kept her mouth shut and stepped forward. There was nothing he could do to her, short of taking her life that she could not heal afterwards. In the end, women like her or Lyla never really had a choice.

She was shaking badly by the time she reached close to him. He pulled out a dagger from the sheath on his belt and caught Agatha when her knees gave way. He held her close to his chest and Agatha felt the touch of cold steel on her bare back.

"Stay still," he commanded in a low voice. Agatha squeezed her eyes shut and thought of Siegel, and the last time they had made love, deep inside the Old Forest, the day before she had some to the Castle of Rubenstraad. There was no going back to him again, no getting married by the South Sea, and bearing his children and living a life that she had known sounded too good to be true when Siegel had promised it to her.

There was a ripping sound and the comforting pressure across her torso disappeared. In one swift movement, Orion removed the breast band from around her. The thick material chafed her nipples as he pulled it out from underneath her dress. Orion pushed her away from him and pulled the tattered halves of her dress down her shoulders and arms and left it hanging around her waist. Then he sheathed his dagger, knelt down in front of her so that his eyes were level with her breasts and lifted her right arm to inspect the hideous birthmark splashed across the right side of her body. Agatha peeked at him despite the fear and revulsion that clawed up her throat and felt disconcerted. He was not even looking at her breasts, laid bare in front of him. He was staring at her birthmark with a slight crease between his eyebrows. His eyes looked troubled as he turned her slightly to get a better view of her side body.

"How long have you had this?" he asked, raising a calloused finger to touch the skin on her side. Agatha shuddered visibly as his fingers touched her, and she found that she could no longer make sense of what was happening. His touch felt oddly soothing, though, and she wanted him to increase the point of contact. Why was he so interested in her birthmark? Logic seemed to be cutting through the haze of panic that clouded Agatha's brain and she realized deep down in the recesses of her mind that he must have noticed her birthmark when Rhynster's men had ripped her dress apart in the tavern. That was why he must have saved her. He had her confused with something or someone else.

"It's a birthmark, Azure Rider."

"What's your full name?" he asked absent-mindely as his calloused fingers continued to probe her side with an inexplicable detachment.

"Agatha Hartelle."

Orion's eyes flashed up to meet hers. "Do you know the identity of your parents?"

"No, your Honor." The surname Hartelle was for the orphans and the destitutes in Lohenstraad. Agatha had been at the Academy ever since she could remember, serving as a maid to Siegel's father, and then, when she was of twelve, she had caught the eye of Head Mage Walter Abelardo, who had taken her as his mistress to replace his aging wife. After the Head Mage's death, she had been enrolled into the Academy by Siegel's father, and over the last few years, her friendship with Siegel had blossomed into something else.

Orion stood up, apparently unaffected by her nakedness. There was a knock on the door. Orion stepped towards her, causing her to step further backwards. Before she could put a respectable distance between them, he trapped her right wrist in his hand. The door swung open and Jonathan handed out a bundle of dark fabric towards Orion.

"A dress for the lady."

The Rider accepted it without comment and closed the door behind him.

"Get dressed," he said, shoving the bundle towards Agatha.

"Here?" Agatha started to feel bewildered. A minute ago, she had been convinced the Rider had brought her to his tower to ravage her. Now, she had no idea what was happening. He hadn't so much as glanced at her bare chest.

"You can change in the hallway outside if you wish," the Rider smirked sardonically and made his way towards his desk, relinquishing his hold on Agatha's arm. "Or in the visitor's hall."

He busied himself with organising the scrolls on his desk to clear a workspace.

Agatha was temporarily rendered speechless with confusion. She stumbled over to the other side of the bed, pulled down the drapes and spent a minute inspecting the General from behind them to make sure he wasn't looking. When she was convinced that he had no ulterior motive, she set to changing into the dress in her hand. She had been provided with a chemise in addition to the dress, which, in Agatha's opinion, was absolutely useless as far as undergarments were considered. It provided no support if she were to ride a horse or work in the garden, but for now, it would do. With fumbling fingers, she pulled the dress onto herself, noticing fleetingly that it was made of expensive silk, suitable for garbing a noble lady and not a commoner like her. When she was sure that she was properly covered, Agatha made her way towards the Rider, treading cautiously now that she could no longer make sense of his intentions.

"What were you doing in the Central Market?" he enquired courteously, writing on a blank scroll with a fairly illegible handwriting. Agatha inched closer subconsciously to read the name of the addressee. Orion seemed to sense her movements rather than see them, for he flipped the scroll over on the table so that the contents of the missive was hidden from her. He turned towards her and dipped the quill back into the pot, lavishing his full attention onto her.

"I ... I went to visit a friend."

The General raised an eyebrow.

"Lyla is ... well, she used to be a scullery maid, but Lord Archibald Mannering took a fancy to her and took her as his bed slave. He tired of her after a month and she had no place to go except the whorehouse and she needed a womanly medicine so ..." Agatha fumbled, trailing awkwardly into silence as the General's impassive face offered no response. She did not know why she needed to explain that Lyla's current occupation was not her choice, but it probably did not matter anyway, because the General was still staring up at her silently.

"What do you want?" Agatha asked again, now feeling anguished. She was not known for speaking out of turn, but at the moment, she felt helplessly ill-equipped to contribute to this strange conversation. The silence stretched on between them and what was worse, the Rider seemed to revel at her palpable discomfort.

"You have killed before," the Rider said, his intense gaze never wavering. It wasn't a question. Agatha pressed her lips into a thin line, reluctant to volunteer any information which might upset the precarious offer of safety made by the Dragon Rider. Belatedly, she realized that she may have underestimated his intelligence. There was silence except for the gentle hiss of the sand trickling through the hourglass on the desk. This time, the Rider broke the silence. "What did he do, Agatha?"

Again, Agatha stayed stubbornly silent. The Rider slid out of his chair and walked towards her, his giant form towering over her. Agatha stepped backwards until the wall at her back stopped her retreat. The Rider crouched down, putting both hands on either side of her face. "That's probably not the important question," he murmured softly. "He was probably guilty of the same transgression as Castor. The important question is, how did you do it?"

The Rider cupped her neck with one hand. His calloused thumb caressed her jawline, and Agatha was again horrified to realize that her skin tingled after his touch, yearning for more. The Rider moved his hand downwards, stroking the soft skin over her clavicle.

"Please don't," Agatha pleaded, "I am neither experienced nor innocent and you could find anyone else. Please."

"You'll have to construct a better excuse, Agatha," he murmured, then leaned down to brush her cheek lightly with his lips.

"I-I'm betrothed," Agatha said, now frozen with fear again.

"Not good enough," he whispered against her cheek, then proceeded to kiss her lips. His fingers moved down to the edge of her dress and then dipped beyond the neckline, gentle but probing. Unbidden, the carefully concealed magic in her found release in the form of a flashing red light through the ends of her fingertips. It encased the Rider in a shimmery, vibrant shield, but then flickered into nothingness like a fire quenched by a bucket.

The Rider withdrew and grinned at her, his eyes shining triumphantly. "A witch. I thought so," he said, then left her to resume his seat at the table. Agatha stared at her hands in horror. Humiliation, then fear, then distress washed through her in quick succession as realization crashed on to her in merciless waves. The Rider had tricked her into showing her magic. The Rider was not affected by the spell that would have surely killed a regular human. And while she would have been spared for taking Castor's life, an assassination attempt on the Dragon Rider would surely earn her a one-way visit to the gallows. Not only that, she had just admitted that she was capable of harnessing magic in herself, not just manipulating it into inanimate objects like ordinary mages, and it was a crime punishable by death in Lohenstraad. Hours of rigorous training by Siegel to assume unbreakable control over her magic, those long nights of lying passively under Walter as he pushed his shrivelled cock inside her, had failed her at this crucial moment and she had ended up exposing herself to the Azure Rider.

"You can't be the only witch at the Academy," Orion said conversationally, flipping the scroll over and continuing to write. "When young people work that closely with magic, sooner or later, they are bound to expose themselves, accidentally channeling magic through themselves instead of wards. As far as I am aware, the Academy hands over the witches and wizards over to the Guards quite faithfully. In fact, the Academy is the most dangerous place that you could be at if you can possess magic. So... how did you avoid detection, Agatha?"

Agatha did not answer. She would not mention Siegel's name under any circumstances. They would have to kill her before that happened.

"Did your betrothed teach you how to control it?" Orion asked idly, dipping his quill into the pot. "I must say that he did not do a very good job."

"I taught myself," Agatha said harshly, carefully re-arranging her features so that she did not betray Siegel. She was beginning to realize that she must have grossly underestimated Orion's intelligence.

"I think we both know that it is impossible to exercise control over your magic without outside help. Who helped you, Agatha?"

Agatha sealed her lips tightly. She was a fair judge of human character, and she sensed that the Dragon Rider was interested in her capabilities only inasmuch it served his purpose. He wanted to know about her mentor because he rightly suspected that there were others like her, others who had avoided detection. But no matter what his motives were, Agatha would not betray Siegel or the rest of her friends to him.

"I'll do whatever you want," she said. "Please, leave the others out of it."

Orion raised an eyebrow again. "So there's more than one," he whispered.

Agatha could have smacked herself at that point.

"What makes you think you have anything that I may want?" Orion continued, his lips pulling up in one corner.

Agatha knelt down on the ground in a gesture of capitulation and bowed her head. "You may be surprised, Azure Rider."

***

Orion took in the girl sitting submissively in front of his door. He had not given too much of a thought to her as she had hurtled herself under the table beside him in the tavern and then scrambled to hide behind the wine barrels. However, she had captured his attention the moment she had plunged Castor's own knife into his liver and then twisted it remorselessly. He had been interested to see how the tussle would unfold, in fact, he had been sure he would enjoy it, until one of Rhynster's lackeys tore open her dress at the back and revealed what was unmistakably a half-formed dragon's mark. No one knew it was that except him; he was the only Dragon Rider Lohenstraad had seen in more than a thousand years, and he took care to keep his mark hidden with a ward tied around his wrist. He had been forced to intervene after that. He had also been partly worried that she would end up killing Rhynster if she was left to her own devices, and it would have become difficult to extricate her out of the trouble that would have inevitably followed.

The girl was very beautiful in an unconventional way. Her arms and torso spoke of long days of hard toil and a smattering of freckles over her nose and rosy cheeks provided testament that the nature of the work she did was outdoors. He had felt his cock stir in his pants when she clung to the front of his robes unconsciously as he tore off her breast band, and he had not been able to resist having a little of his way with her in order to get her to confess the status of her magical abilities. So far, she lined up exactly with the description of the prophecy, and that worried Orion.

And now, she was kneeling down in front of him, looking devastatingly alluring in a green dress that brought out the colour in her eyes and was offering herself up to her. A part inside Orion, the part that was closer to the beast he was bonded with and didn't care so much about social constructs and morality, instigated him to seize the chance. But there was another part in him, the part that had been able to see the distress in her eyes as he had made the leap that her loved one was like her too, and that part did not want to see the broken woman kneeling supplicatingly in front of him, did not want to give her a reason to detest him. Above all, he felt an irrational jealousy, an emotion that he had been sure was beneath him all these years.

Orion rubbed his eyes. He had work to do besides obsessing over a prophecy. Sir Blaxton had not returned a response to his last missive and he was two days late in his return from the lands of the Luteri. Orion would not have worried but he was aware that Sir Blaxton and his battalion was returning through the hills of Remadra, which were notorious for being rife with bloodsuckers who did not believe in honoring the Treaty. Trouble was brewing at the borders of Vandan, and with the blithering idiot that currently sat at the throne of Lohenstraad, war was imminent. There were unconfirmed reports of Leviathans joining the bloodsuckers in their nightly hunt and Night Guards were dropping dead faster than flies in the streets of Rubenstraad. The ones that were alive were too scared to continue patrolling the streets anymore. Orion opened his eyes and considered Agatha, still sitting before him, confusion apparent in her expressive eyes. An idea occurred to him.

"Can you do healing spells?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"You may leave. Jonathan will accompany you to the Keep. And I shall hold you to your promise," he said, unable to resist smiling deviously at her. The relief that flooded her features at his words irritated him slightly. Women tripped over themselves to fall in his favor wherever he went. And this girl, this commoner, that too a Hartelle, was genuinely afraid that he would violate her. He did not relish her fear or her repulsion, but there was some part of him that inexplicably wanted to command the loyalty she had shown towards her friends.

Agatha rose to her feet and curtsied clumsily. Orion nearly smiled again. It was a refreshing change from the court ladies who armored themselves with stiff propriety and then threw themselves at him at the first available opportunity.

"So, I will not be executed for ..." she hovered off with uncertainty, trying to clear her position before leaving.

"...For trying to kill me? No," Orion said. "Though I would suggest you do not attempt it again."

Her next question caught him off guard.

"Who made you that ward?" she asked, her green eyes alight with curiosity.

"No one of consequence," Orion said. She did not need to know the truth.

"Why are you interested in my birthmark?" she asked doggedly.

Deliberately, Orion raked his gaze over her body. "If you keep asking questions when I have asked you to leave, I might change my mind about leaving you alone."

That worked. She scuttled out of the door, holding her skirts up in one hand. Orion did not miss the unmistakable blush that tainted her cheeks at his threat.