Light Dragons 03 - Sparks Fly

Constantine. But you didn’t hold a candle to Baltic.”
    “My father does not control my life,” Baltic snapped, his breath ragged now as he continued to swing at the vaguely human-shaped target. “Nor does Alexei.”
    I settled back against one of the targets, prepared to watch and learn what I could from the vision.
    “He is our wyvern. You owe him your fealty,” Constantine said, stiffening. “You must do as he says. You must meet the lady.”
    “Do not lecture me, Constantine,” Baltic snarled, turning on him. Sweat beaded on his brow and matted the dark hair on his chest. Constantine took a step back when Baltic gestured toward him with the sword. “You are Alexei’s heir, not the wyvern himself, and I do not take well to being ordered about.”
    “Pax!” Constantine said, throwing his hands up in the air in a gesture of defeat. “I did not come to argue with you, old friend. I wanted simply to warn you that the lady had arrived, and Alexei is expecting you to do your duty and claim her as mate.”
    I had been idly wondering to myself when exactly this moment had taken place-judging by the comments, it predated not only my own birth, but even the time when Baltic had been wyvern of the black dragon sept-but as the two men argued, I had a sudden insight.
    “This is about the First Dragon’s demand I redeem you, isn’t it?” I asked the past Baltic. “This has something to do with whatever it is I’m supposed to accomplish to erase the stain on your soul. But that was due to the death of the innocent, and this ... a mate ?”
    It took a minute before Constantine’s words sank into my brain, but when they did, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. I stalked forward to the two men, glaring at the former image of the love of my life, uncaring that this was only a vision. “You were supposed to take someone else as a mate? Who?”
    “I’ve told Alexei of my decision,” Baltic said, snatching up his discarded tunic and wiping his face with it before sheathing his sword. “I have not changed my mind.”
    He turned and started up the hill of what was obviously the outer bailey of an early stone castle, stopping when Constantine called after him, “And what of the First Dragon? Will you defy him, as well as Alexei? You are his only living son, Baltic.”
    “I know what I am,” Baltic snarled, and continued walking.
    “The lady wants you. The First Dragon is reported to desire you to take her as mate. Alexei has commanded it in order to avoid a war. Do you really think you have a choice in the matter?”
    The word that Baltic uttered was archaic, but quite, quite rude, and ironically, one his present-day self had spoken just a few minutes before. I watched his tall, handsome figure as he disappeared into crowds of dragons going about their daily business, my eyes narrowing as Constantine suddenly smiled.
    “Why do I have the feeling that you know something?” I asked him.
    He didn’t answer, of course. He just continued to smile for a few seconds; then he, too, strolled off toward the upper bailey, leaving me alone in the practice yard.
    “Who was she?” I bellowed after them, achieving nothing but the venting of my spleen. “Who the hell was she?” No one answered me, of course. Drat them all.
    “Well, I’m not going to stand for being left clueless about important episodes from the past yet again. I’ve had it! I’m going to find out what’s going on if it kills me. Again. Which it won’t. Oh hell, now I’m talking to myself while in a vision. How pathetic is that?”
    I looked around me, trying to figure out where exactly I was. It was fall, judging by the color of the leaves on the trees in the little town that straggled down the hill below me. Behind was a large mound flattened at the top, bearing a circular stone and wood tower, all of which was surrounded by a tall wooden stockade. “Motte and bailey castle,” I murmured, racking my frequently incomplete memory for the time period of such structures.
    All I could remember was that they were popular well before the century I was born. I took a deep breath and marched up the hill to the tower keep, automatically moving around people and objects that weren’t really there, all the while muttering to myself about dragons and their stubborn ways, with an emphasis on one ebony-eyed wyvern in particular.
    The stone and wood keep wasn’t much to look at, not nearly so grand as my father’s stone keep had been. I paused