Page 75 of Dragon Slayer

“Darling. Oh, my precious boy.” She clenched her hands into fists on her thighs, and her eyes glimmered as tears filled them. But she smiled at him. Beamed. It was etched with worry and anguish, but it was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in weeks. “Val, sweetheart, I’m here. I’m right here. I’m so proud of you for finding me.”

He sniffled, and hiccupped, and tried unsuccessfully to catch his breath.

“Is your brother with you? Are you together? Are you safe?” Her voice trembled on the last word. She looked afraid to know the answer.

He took a few hitched breaths, cleared his throat. He didn’t want her to worry like this; had to get the words out. He hadn’t thought it would hurt this much to see her. “We – we, y-yes, we’re together.” Except Vlad hated him. “And we’re s-s-safe.” No one had struck him with a crop yet. “We’re at the sultan’s court.”

“Oh.” A soft gasp. She shook her head, and pushed the brittle smile wider. “You look – you look well. They must be feeding you.”

“They know – Mama, they know we’re vampires.”

She bit her lip, hard, until it drew blood. “Oh, darling…”

Talking helped; his tears slowed, and his throat grew clearer. “The heir is, too. His father isn’t – the sultan. So he’s not purebred, he must be turned, but they give us blood, and they made us wear silver cuffs when we traveled, and–” He was out of breath. “Mama, I want to come home. Is Father coming for us? Is he negotiating with the sultan?”

Her face crumpled. Her eyes shut, and tears slipped down her face. “Your father…sweetheart.” She opened her eyes again, the look in them painful to see. “He’s not here. The Ottomans are holding him. Mircea is the princepro temuntil he’s released.”

“…what?”

“The sultan’s envoy brought us the missive. Remus is being held until they’re sure he can be trusted to keep to the treaty. I had hoped that he was with you boys, but…”

Val took shallow breaths through his mouth. If Father wasn’t here…if he was being held, too…

He swallowed a sudden swell of nausea. “He’s not here. Mama, he’snot here.”

“I know, baby.”

“How…then how…how will he get us home?”

She moved to touch him again, and caught herself just before her fingertips breached the illusion of his face. She was still crying, but silently, and her expression firmed. “Val. Love. I need you to listen to me, and listen carefully, alright?”

Emotions slid over one another like layers of oil; he was adrift. But he would do anything for his mother, anything, so he nodded.

“Your father will do everything he can to secure your release,” she said, and her tears finally dried, voice taking on the steel tone of the Viking shieldmaiden she’d been long ago. “But he can’t do anything that’s immediate. He has to come home first. It will take time to convince his captors that he is loyal to them, and to formulate a new treaty that will allow you and Vlad to return to us. You –wemust all be patient. And careful.”

She gestured with one hand, and he knew that, if she was able, she would have smoothed his hair back from his face, tucked it lovingly behind his ears. “I need you and your brother to be on your best behavior, to learn as much as you can, but to keep your heads down and stay safe. Don’t draw any undue attention. Mircea and I are drafting letters to the sultan – if he’ll read them.” She huffed. “Mircea is a good prince, but he’s young, and he’s scared. So I need your help, alright darling? I need you to be my eyes and ears in Adrianople. That’s where you are, right?”

“Yes’m.”

She nodded, resolved. Fixed him with a serious look. “Iwillget you back, Val. You, and Vlad, and your father. I will. I promise you that.”

He had absolute faith. “I know you will, Mother.”

Then the resolve crumbled into grief, and fear, and shining, shining love. “I love you, precious boy. I love you so, so much, more than anything.”

He felt fresh tears sting his eyes. “I love you, Mama.”

“Give my love to your brother for me, please.”

“I will.” Though…maybe Vlad didn’t want it.

She stood up and straightened her skirts. “Can you stay a little longer? You should come talk to Mircea and tell him what you know.”

“Okay.”

Mircea tried to embrace him, and his face fell when he remembered that he couldn’t.

Val “sat” by his desk for nearly an hour, telling him what little he’d learned at the Ottoman court so far, and sometime after that he faded, waking on his pallet in Edirne as the sun was breaking over the horizon, the first pale light of dawn stealing across the tile floors.

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