• I remember he was fond of chocolate. Or at least the chocolate I got from the monks at the Dover Ford near Greenwitch, which is now Grenich. Come to think of it, that’s not far from Saddle Bern. That’s where… well let’s start at the beginning – it’s the beginning for me at least. Me? I’m Siegfried Julian of Thames. King of Thames.

    Let’s see… it was midsummer and I had just gotten a new stallion from my uncle, it wasn’t broken in yet. The roan outran my escort, and wouldn’t obey commands, or a sharp tug on the reins. It carried me into the forest, to Dalai, Brunec’s sorceress. I had been betrayed.

    The next thing I remember I was in a cold and gloomy dungeon, laying in what I hoped was a puddle of water. And somebody was throwing pebbles at me. Where in the name of the Great Virgin am I? I sat up, shaking water out of my hair.

    "I see you’re awake. Let’s go." A figure rose gracefully in the dark and pulled me to my feet with strong, lean arms. "The way out is not far. Follow me."

    I couldn’t see him clearly, but he was slender and tall, like the ballet dancers that had visited the castle when I was young. He wound his way threw the catacombs with elegance and at a steady pace, while I stumbled and struggled to keep up.

    "Be still. Rest, I must feed Raspa before we may pass." He disappeared into the shadows. Who, or more aptly "what," Raspa was I would never know. Though it makes the most horrifying screeching sound while feeding. He returned soon after the noise ceased. "We must hurry." He took me by the wrist and led me through the winding caves for what seemed like hours. Don’t ask me why I followed him; he seemed so… familiar. Like I knew him from somewhere, a long time ago.

    We emerged from the cavern near a small lake. The stars sparkled overhead. The trees reflected off the lake, a light warm breeze making their image dance. I bumped into his back, for a moment I thought he was taking in the wonder around us. He reached into his vestment, and I noticed the shadowy figures surrounding us. The sudden screeching whinny of horses nearly stole my attention from the lantern being lit, the soft glow revealing a score of knights. Their grey matte armor bore two symbols. One, the face of a beautiful woman made of protective runes, all fools believe themselves protected by the Virgin. The second was a more unique design, a serpentine dragon wrapped around a hanged man. They were Brunec’s personal guard.

    The lantern was handed forward revealing the presence of Brunec himself. "I find your very existence an affront to reason, Dominic. Tell me, just how is it that you got away from Bernstein and Bermen?"

    "I have my ways. Adieu." Cryptic, I thought absently.

    I remember it only in flashes. Hooves churning the soft earth, the scrape and crack as a brave soldier was crushed more by speed than weight. They were Arabian beauties, steeds befitting the sinewy man beside me. Both were light and quick, well trained for riding hard into battle. Dominic's mount took him deep into the shadows. Its glossy black coat was like velvet. The white beast beneath me seemed to radiate with all the innocence of the world. It dragged me through briers for half the night. The sun rose from the trees like a phoenix. He led me to a woodland grove, which shimmered with eerie silver light.

    "This is The Moonlight Grove," he smiled at me. His eyes were desolate pools of sparkling obsidian in the light but lacking the flame within. Black hair cut straight hung just below his shoulders. Dominic was clothed in worn finery of dark grays and light faded blues. He caught me staring at him, and seemed almost shy all of a sudden. "Awe, did Halgtetar hurt you?"

    I glanced at the horse, grazing peacefully on moss at the foot of a three-foot waterfall, "Hagt-ar?"

    "Close. Halgtetar. It means Pestilence. And this," he said stroking the velvet horse’s mussel, "is Ktitktailkt. Or Demon."

    "Ka tit ka tail ka t." I said it slow, trying to get it right. He laughed at my attempt, and shook his lustrous locks.

    "I’d have to say, not bad for a beginner. Pest rather likes you," Dominic stepped over to me, "she usually doesn’t let strangers ride her." When he stepped away again and lifted his hands from my shoulders I felt all my scrapes were healed. "That’s better. We best stay here a while."

    I stared intently into his eyes, as if I could see the depths of his soul. What I found there would cause me acute surprise were I to find he actually stood in possession of one. "Who are you?" I asked at length.

    "Me?" He smiled oh-so-humbly. He dipped into a exaggerated bow, "I am Dominic."

    My interest in him was piqued. I issued the question before I was aware of my having done so. "Why is Brunec after you?" I nearly regretted the inquiry.

    "I could ask you the same thing." His back was to me as he pulled a set of silver goblets from his tunic and filled them from the fall. He spun rapidly, spilling no liquid and smiled at me. "Drink?" His eerie grin reminded me of a wolf.

    "Thank you." I accepted the chalice and drank deeply. The cold water felt heavenly on my parched throat. I know I should not have trusted him so easily; he had an odd air about him, explaining why I could not bring myself to look away from him as I drained the cup. But still I could not bring myself to lie, "I’m the prince of Thames. He wants to steal the throne."

    "Thames? Is that what you’re calling it now? He knows it is my Wrensway," He clenched his fists. "That venomed, pox-marked, horned beast. That currish, dog-hearted rat’s bane. That roguish, toad-spotted measle," he cursed so eloquently. "I will not tolerate this."

    "You? And how would you stop him?" I sighed, shaking my head. I knew Brunec and what he was capable of. One man, even this man would be no true challenge for one of Brunec's power.

    "I have ways." Again with the Cryptic, I remember thinking. Dominic began pacing. "You’re the prince right?"

    "Currently. I hope to remain so, should the heavens deem it."

    "Why would he go after you and not the king…?" He stopped, his eyes locked with mine. Staring into my eyes he whispered under his breath. I didn’t know what though.

    "Dominic?" I was beginning to grow nervous under his constant gaze.

    He shook himself. "Sorry, nothing. So, why would he go after you and not the king?"

    "Thomas is only regent," I stated with a touch more disgust than I would have liked. "He is no king."

    "Ah, that would mean that you are nearly of age, and Brunec is legitimately in line for the throne. A take over would be simple with you out of the way." He smiled in what can only be called a malevolent manner. "Brunec will taste true fear before your coronation." His eyes grew cold. Colder than any winter's hell my imagination could create. "I swear it."

    From the look of pure disgust etched plainly upon his deceptively handsome features, I doubted not a word of it.

    That is how I met Dominic of Wrensway, the self-imposed protector of my kingdom. We agreed that it would be best if I stayed hidden until the week of my coronation. I wrote to my mother, the archbishop and the advisors, to tell them I was fine and would be hunting with a friend.

    Of course Dominic’s idea of hunting involved wandering around, unarmed, in disreputable establishments looking for anything that involved mortal peril and minimal pay.

    Dominic smiled. There's the wolf again. I reflected silently. It made me contemplate whether he actually does steal livestock in the night. "Oh, come on, it’s only a dragon, and a little one at that."

    I stared in blank amazement at him. "It’s twice the size of a horse!"

    "Small," He dismissed casually, "For a dragon."

    His simple appraisal of the danger of situations such as these infuriated me to no end. "I have to stay alive, and so do you!"

    "It’s not dangerous." He walked backward to the mouth of the dragon’s cave, "Watch." He turned and shouted, "Hey, hello, dragon!"

    The massive serpentine head eased from the entrance to the dark cavern. The dragon flashed him a wide smile, baring sharp, white teeth.

    "Good Dominic. I have not seen you for an age." His enormous emerald eyes turned to me. "And you brought a friend. The two of you must come in." He withdrew from the entrance, then shot back out in a flash. "For dinner! Ha . . . ha. . . ha . . . ahem. Sorry. Dragon and all of that. Reputation to uphold." He turned directly to Dominic. "I am sure you understand."

    Dominic smiled. "Quite."

    I stood by, dumbstruck.

    The only time he ever fought in front of me was with humans, he seemed to toy with them. The most predominant in my memory was a near altercation in a grimy little pub in Saddle Bern.

    "You're not that guy." Dominic laughed.

    "I'm not that guy," an odd little confused man stammered.

    "You're not that guy; you're you!"

    "I'm not other people!" He threw up his hands. They may have been at this for some time before I got there.

    "I am other people," he stole the little man’s platter of meat, bread and cheese.

    "That was mean," I said taking his chunk of cheese. "You really should learn to pay for your meals."

    He looked at me with true surprise in his eyes. "Why?"

    I looked at him, my face slack from disbelief. "It’s wrong, it’s stealing."

    "These people are alive because of me." He was muttering again.

    "Hmm?" I asked with a mouth full of meat and bread.

    He peered about angrily, his mouth open to speak, to tirade, to . . . He sighed deeply and lowered his eyes to his meal. "Nothing," he sounded sullen.

    "Hey, Bernstein, look ‘oo it is." two brutish looking mercenaries approached our table.

    "Well now, if idn’t our liddle demon friend." The second one was taller, broader, and uglier. Half of the flesh on his face appeared to have been torn off. "You like the pretty boy, eh, demon."

    Dominic never lifted his eyes from his plate. "He’s alright." He lifted the full weight of his icy gaze to the larger man. "Bernstein, despite what your companion may believe, I can make you uglier." He let the words hang for, but a moment. "Do not force me to prove it."

    "Not this time, demon!" Bremen pulled a red glowing stone from his belt pouch. I had seen a gem like that before, when I was quite young. My fathered had employed a wizard of some power. I believe it was a soul gem.

    I stood, fists clenching in anger. "Get that away from him."

    "Are you afraid, demon?" Bernstein smirked.

    "Only of your breath."

    Bernstein went to punch him, but the little confused man whose food Dominic stole bumped into him. "Well, excuse me young man." He huffed and stalked away.

    In the sudden confusion, Dominic snatched the stone from Bernstein's gnarled hand. He had to disposed of the stone, lord knows where. Bernstein and Bremen took off.

    Then he turned to me and said, "Black’s like a snake that can’t be bothered to bite you."

    "That guy you stole the bread from? Wait… Black, as in Ouscy Black the Head Hunter."

    "Yea, did you see the look on Bremen’s face?" He laughed then looked at me and said, "For that matter, did you see the look on your face?"

    I returned to my chair. "Are you crazy?"

    "It’s all right. He’s not dangerous or anything."

    "Not dangerous! That was Ou…" he clamped his hand over my mouth. He smelled like roses.

    "Not so loud. Attention is bad for men Brunec wants dead."

    Ouscy Black. And Dominic never batted an eye. One would think that wouldn’t strike me as odd, with all the things I knew about him.

    Ouscy Black, the Head Hunter. I’m sorry; he was famous all through out my childhood. But you wouldn’t know about him. He was a legendary demon slayer. Actually, he never killed a Demon in his life. It’s really not that unusual. Demons are few and far between, and dislike attracting attention to themselves. Ouscy himself was a demon. Seems he was just smiting mortal men to protect his demon brethren from a witch hunt.

    And don’t think I’ve forgotten the dragon. Patience is a virtue.
    The dragon invited us in 'for dinner' as he claimed. In truth it was tea and cakes he served, not charred human or some such draconic delicacy. His lair was, as myth tells us, filled with gold. It was also filled with fairies and other forest sprites. "I envy you, Dominic. Not a care in the world, no responsibilities. Nothing to tie you down. Such a life."

    "The stars are always brighter in some one else’s sky. I envy you. Your home, your family." I noticed something in Dominic's eyes. Loss, perhaps? I vowed to speak with him of the matter at a later time. Such pain should not be the burden of one man. Regardless of his heritage.

    "Then why do you not settle down?" The giant orange-scaled behemoth asked peaceably.

    "I have responsibilities. My life is not so care free a most would have you believe." He drained his cup, "this is really good."

    The dragon scoffed. "Really, and what would those be? Terrifying mortals, or saving them? Or can’t you make up your mind?"

    "I protect Wrensway," Dominic sighed. "Anyway we need lodging for the night. Have you any sheddings you may be inclined to part with?"

    The dragon looked on in confusion.

    "As proof we slew you." Dominic explained.

    But the best thing he did was just before my coronation.

    The archbishop rushed me out of my room, and into the cathedral. I was buttoning my tunic as we ran down the stairs; my boots in one hand and my scabbard in the other. I tripped on the last step, going hard to my knees. I threw my right shoulder to the ground, rolling onto my back, rising to my feet in a fluid movement.

    The sorceress was trapped in a stained-glass cage. Her master lay bleeding, bruised, and broken at the foot of the alter. My coronation was in an hour and I, yet again, had no idea what was going on. I walked up to Burnec, pinned on his lapel, with a black rose and a string of pearls, was a note from Dominic.

    "‘A gift, as I regret I can not attend. I hope you like it,’" I read the gold lettering, "‘yours loyally, Dominic." The coronation was long and boring, but went off with out a hitch. Mother insisted on throwing a feast. Dominic sat beside me, grinning.

    And I had to tell them. I knew I shouldn’t do it this way. I should tell my mother, the archbishop and the advisors. And see where to go from there. But that isn’t what I wanted, what he wanted. I am the judge of what is best for this country. I stood as if to make a toast, but I did not command the attention, or respect of a real king. It hit me then that my family had lost what Dominic had fought so hard for.

    "If I may?" Dominic asked quietly from his seat. His gaze was fixed on the archbishop, who was talking to several of the wealthiest lords.

    "Of course." Sighing, I pondered how he could put me on the spot.

    He rose gracefully, stretched, and shattered every glass in the feast hall. The roar echoed through the castle for days after. His soft silken skin had become hard and rough. His perfect teeth were now jagged fangs, and his eyes, those sweet eyes, were glowing like fire. Hands forged in an instant rage, softened by centuries of repentance, always the high icon of control, were turned to the wild claws that have rended flesh from bone.

    He reverted quickly. "Your king has an announcement." He sat back in his chair.

    I had my kingdom back.