The Flames of Rage - an Enchantica story (novel) by Peter Van Mol

Chapter Two

As he awaited Halmarand's return, Cray tried to keep from attracting too much attention and kept himself amused at the same time. Presently, he was watching a couple of young stableboys who were busy tending to his griffin as it awaited its master's reappearance from within the castle itself. From his chosen vantage point in a darkened hallway, Cray felt sure the youngsters hadn't seen him ... while he also knew the griffin, Tabrah, was probably perfectly aware of his presence nearby.

Leaning against the open door, the long-haired warrior clasped his hand over his own mouth to suppress a sudden burst of laughter. Knowing that his charger's feigned acts of aggression towards the stableboys - who were used to the somewhat more civilized dragons - were just a game to the animal, Cray didn't feel the urge to intervene, though. If they were as smart as the ones he'd known in his days at this castle, the boys would soon realize just how different griffins and dragons really were, and would likely leave the animal to its own grooming.
"Always one foot in the door, haven't you Cray ?" a woman's voice suddenly whispered in his ear, making the warrior execute an unprepared half jump-turn that looked positively ridiculous. By the time he'd completed the defensive move, however, Cray's mind had already identified the voice as that of someone it knew all too well ... which did not automatically imply the owner could be excluded as some sort of "threat", if one considered a slap across the face as a threat that is.

Seemingly less than surprised by the warrior's reaction to her nearness, the young woman - who was dressed in a long robe of white and golden silk - looked both pleased and annoyed, in a sense reflecting Cray's own feelings at seeing her so suddenly. When he looked at her in a more relaxed manner, the former Captain of this kingdom's armies noted that she had changed since their last meeting, although the same things that'd made him fall in love with her were still there.

"My decision to wait in the shadows was not inspired by any intention to leave in a hurry, Your Highness," he replied in an exaggerated polite tone, "but rather to avoid potentially hazardous encounters or difficult questions. I am, however, glad to see you are well, Princess Silde." The moment he added the last phrase, his voice unintentionally took on a different tone, and - to his own surprise - revealed his true feelings beneath the cool veneer.
"Were you planning to leave without coming to see me, Cray ?" Silde asked, and opened up the dilemma he'd been wrestling with ever since the meeting with the Lord of Summer had ended. Before he'd arrived at the castle, he'd decided it would be best for both of them if they didn't reopen what were sure to be painfull wounds ... but being here had made him doubt. Small things that had reminded him of everything they'd done together, of all the places they'd gone to in the hopes of keeping their love a secret, were eating away at his resolve. Deep inside, he'd probably been waiting for an opportunity to see Silde, even if it was only to remind him of her beauty.

A natural beauty with a rather boyish demeanor, Silde had blossomed into a beautifull young woman ... who'd tried to accentuate her maturity with a changed hairstyle. In the past, Cray had often teased her about her girlish braids, and - if he hadn't been convinced that she could not have known of his coming - he would've guessed she'd cut her blond hair just to impress him with her new look.
"Perhaps you'd rather answer another question first ?" the Princess interrupted Cray's musings. When he didn't react immediately, she decided to push the issue even a tad further. "You never told me why you left, and I really need to know if ...", she hesitated.
"No," he almost yelled, "no, it didn't have anything to do with you, or us. You have to believe that." Taking her hands in his, he slowly pulled her closer and forced her to look him in the eyes. "Of all the things that were happening to me at that time, what we had together was the only reason I might've had to stay."
"Then what ..." she stuttered, clearly confused and unable to hold back her tears any longer. Holding her, Cray waited patiently and stroked her hair the way he'd done so often years ago. When she'd finally calmed down again, he cupped his hand under her chin and gentle kissed her on the lips.
"Everybody - not only your father, but the General, and even the other dragonriders - they all expected too much from me, and I was afraid to tell them I'd started to doubt myself more and more ever since the day I'd lost Voudriss."

Noticing the tremor in his voice, it was Silde who attempted to provide the rational objectivity needed to delve deeper into what was obviously a painfull memory.
"General Halmarand called you a hero that day." she stated, "He said you'd managed to turn a sure defeat into an unexpected victory, against impossible odds. How can you doubt yourself in the light of such praise from one as experienced as he ?"
"Sixty five men died that day." Cray sighed, "Maybe the General sees that as a great victory, but I know it as a terrible defeat. All those men, even their dragons, they looked to me and Voudriss to lead them, and - except for a few - died because I failed them. I allowed myself to get lured into entering the fray myself, when I should 've held back and ordered a retreat."

Shaking her head vigorously, Silde remembered how stricken her lover had looked when he returned from that horrible battle. She didn't intend to let Cray punish himself any longer, however, and dug back in her memories for some kind of argument he could use to bring himself back from the brink of darkness.
"My father told me your flight would've been decimated twice as fast if you hadn't intercepted those new attackers." she tried, "Those snowhawks would've torn into your men's flanks, and our reserves would never have reached your position in time to hold the pass. You followed your instincts and saved the day: if Vrorst's armies had broken through that day, thousands of villagers would've been captured and enslaved, women would've been raped, children murdered. Your men knew that, and I suspect they gave their lives gladly to save their families, to buy them the time to reach the castle."

Having relived and reviewed the battle countless times in his nightmares, Cray wasn't easily convinced by Silde's words ... but somewhere deep inside, a small crack had appeared in the grey walls of his despair. It only lasted for a fraction of a second, however. "Voudriss threw me off her back." he sighed, staring at the skies as if he expected the faithfull varrazauga to suddenly return from the realm of death. "She was badly wounded, but she threw me off and hurtled herself at that last snowhawk all by herself. She never stood a chance ...".

Before the war, Silde had often watched Cray and his dragon as they patrolled the skies around the castle. She fondly recalled the way their movements made it seem as if they'd been born to work together, the rider becoming one with his mount, each knowing the other's intentions without the need for words. From the window of her room in the west tower, the young Princess had watched the pair with a slight feeling of envy, and she'd dreamt of the day when Cray would take her away with him through the air. Then ... the call to arms had come, and her dreams had been shattered along with Cray's flight.
"Voudriss loved you." she said, talking so softly it seemed she didn't even want Cray to hear her, "She wanted one of you to survive, and knew she was going to die anyway. Denying your destiny, running away as you did ... it defiles her sacrifice." Realizing the implications of what she'd just said, Silde bit her lip and prayed Cray hadn't heard her. Hitting somebody over the head with accusations, isn't the best way of helping them deal with their lack of confidence - and in trying to help him, she might have pushed him over the edge. Much to her surprise, Cray didn't react the way she feared ... and when he looked her in the eyes, she saw that something in her words had sparked a change. For the first time since they'd started talking again, something in his face reminded her of the man she'd fallen in love with years ago.
"This time," she whispered, "I won't let you leave. We can still have a future here, together. My father will welcome you back into the army, and ...".

Silencing her with a kiss, Cray shook his head and held her at arms' length. "Maybe someday that may happen, Silde, but not now. I was summoned to Fforl for a reason, and I can't go back on my word. Perhaps, in doing what certain people ask of me now, I can become worthy of you again, but I can't stay."

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