Dragon Bound - The Saga of Flames and Frost

Chapter 2

Despite her fervent prayers, despite her most desperate pleas, the horseman continued to approach in the deepening dusk.

The closer he drew, the more the features resolved themselves. He was astride a large, white, burly warhorse fitted with metal faceplate and barding. Silver ribbons swirled from every connection.

The knight's own body was encased from head to toe in plate metal which looked as if it'd been polished to within an inch of its life. Every etching, every swirl of curlicue and spiral was as pristine as when the master craftsman put it there. A silver plume topped the helmet.

A long lance was carefully hung on one side of his saddle, its hilt wrapped in sturdy leather. At his other hip hung a great sword. She had no doubt that he had named it in some elegant ceremony involving tapered silver candles and harmonized prayers.

The fool!

She looked with desperation toward the capital, but her own warriors were long, long gone. Their job of escort done, they were now drinking down mugs of ale and toasting to her beauty. Making ribald jokes about what the dragon would undoubtedly do to her once he had her as his very own.

They had no idea of the desolation which was looming hard over their lives.

She spun her head back to the pace of the ant. Somehow he was closer now. He was a quiet mill-wheel in a summer river, his progress slow but sure. She prayed for him to stumble. For the horse to turn an ankle at the stream's crossing. For him to stop – stop – stop –

He continued to come, implacably, inexorably.

Her throat went dry. Perhaps she could get free before he arrived. She could scramble her way up higher into the mountains and escape beyond the threat. The dragon would be able to find her, surely, given the immense amount of perfumed oils she had been doused in.

She pulled at the restraints in earnest, looking for any way to wriggle her slender wrists through the encompassing cuffs. But her warriors had done a fine job with her bindings. She braced herself with a well-toned leg, striving to yank the links clear of the surrounding rock, but they held strong, as she knew they would. They had been designed so that only the largest of the dragons could claim her as his own. To prevent a debacle such as had happened five generations ago, when a selfish lover had managed to release and carry off one the chosen. That mistake had led to kingdoms-wide agony of scorched fields and demolished villages.

Never again.

Her hands were slick with blood, but still she pulled. All her focus was on getting free. If that knight were to find her here, trapped, he could destroy everything she had worked so hard to achieve. He could doom their entire population to famine and despair.

She pulled and yanked, strained and pushed. Time swept by unnoticed. Sweat coursed down her. She had to get free. It was her only choice.

Because he could –

A voice sounded from above her, calm and steady.

"Do not fear, sweet maiden. Your worries are now behind you. For I am here."