*****
Thanks
for having me Janet!. I’m utterly
tickled to announce that the Persuasion arc of my Jane Austen’s Dragons series
is complete with the release of
You’re not the
first to roll their eyes at me and mutter that—I’ve raised three teenaged sons
after all. I’m sure you expect an answer like “Because zombies, vampires and
werewolves have already been done.” And while that is utterly true, and the
sort of thing I might say if you caught me at just the right—or wrong—moment,
it isn’t a very good answer.
You’re rolling
your eyes at me again. But give me a chance and hear me out.
Why, you say?
(Seriously, stop muttering at me under your breath, I can hear you!)
Even the father of
fabled King Arthur has a dragon connection. King Uther Pendragon was said to
have seen a dragon shaped comet that inspired the dragons that graced the
standards he carried. With dragons just about everywhere in English myth, it
seems likely that Jane Austen herself was familiar with many of these dragon
legends.
So, what if (A
word of caution, when a writer says “what if”, it might be a good time to
politely excuse yourself…) those dragon myths contained a large helping of reality
and there really were dragons in England? What it they weren’t just a thing of
the medieval era, but continued to be a very real presence in British society
into the modern era? How might that work? That would require a research trip
back Uther Pendragon and his dragon encounter.
So, what if Uther
Pendragon was embroiled in battle not just with the Saxons, but with dragons as
well and he saw a real dragon who could speak with him, not just a comet as
most stories suggested? Would not others have heard it too? Wait, no—what if
the dragons had a way of hiding in plain sight that only a select few people
could see through and Uther was one of those and made peace with dragonkind…
Suddenly I saw a
world, hundreds of years removed from medieval England, where mankind and
dragonkind could coexist, governed by the Blue Order, an organization founded
by Uther Pendragon himself, on human and dragon partnership, dedicated to
protecting the safety and interests of both species while keeping the dragons
secret from the very large segment of the human population with hearing
insufficient to detect dragon voices.
Here's a little
preview of what that world might look like:
_________
Laconia, the
cat-like tatzelwurm, wound himself around Wentworth’s feet as he walked the
stony street to the Blue Order office in Lyme. People bustled about, with all
the accompanying noise that did nothing so much as remind one that he was no
longer at sea and the master of his own ship. Sunny, bordering on hot, the salty
sea breeze clipped the edge off the heat and left the shadows beside the
buildings notably cooler, almost chilly. A
number of people stopped and stared at the sight, not so much because he was
walking with a tatzelwurm, but rather because they saw Laconia
as an enormous cat, weaving in and out through his strides.
Though it looked like a difficult, intricate
dance, Laconia had been doing it since he was a wyrmling. It had become more
difficult as he had grown into a substantial creature, nearly three stones in
weight with height and length to match, but Laconia insisted. While he was well
able to protect himself now, the scars of his hatching trauma still plagued
him. Laconia never felt very comfortable in unfamiliar places, around
unfamiliar people—he rarely got much more than an arm’s length away from
Wentworth in such situations.
Like most offices of the Blue Order, this one was entirely
indistinguishable from the ordinary buildings on either side of it. Far smaller
than the great office in London where Wentworth was first presented to and
accepted by the Order, this one appeared little different from the first-rate
townhouses on either side of it. Four-stories tall, white brick front with
black wrought-iron work, balanced, symmetrical windows on either side, with
curtains drawn to block the view from the street. Beneath would be several
stories of basement levels with connections to the dragon tunnels that passed
through all of England.
The corner of his lips
turned up. How surprised the other residents would be to learn what was really
going on in the house or that the unusual number of large birds of prey perched
along the roof were a cockatrice guard company. Frankly, he still was, and he
had known about it for years.
Brass door knockers—drake’s heads holding
large rings—rose from the great blue doors. That was how one could always tell
a Blue Order establishment; the doors were this particular shade of blue.
Apparently, the color was made especially for the Order. Order members in the
colorman’s guilds controlled it quite carefully, so it might only be sold for
use on Blue Order buildings. Naturally they had the help of a few conveniently
placed companion dragons to convince stubborn customers that green was really a
most fashionable color.
He twisted the signet ring on his left little
finger—now that he was beached, it was appropriate he wore it. Order members
liked to be able to identify one another.
Wentworth rapped
on the door. A blue liveried butler, tall, serious, and foreboding opened it,
stepping slightly to the right to completely fill up the doorway and block the
entry.
“Mrrrow.” Laconia
looked up at him, sniffing the air, tail lashing around Wentworth’s ankle.
The man’s eyes
widened just a bit, but he held his ground until Wentworth lifted his left hand
and his ring—perhaps a mite too close to the butler’s face.
“
The butler shut
the door behind them. “Come this way.”
They followed him into a large receiving room, facing the
mews. Two large windows, sheer white drapes obscuring the viewlined
the far wall. It smelt a mite musty, as though the
windows had not been open in quite some time. Many places seemed to smell
musty these days. Was it just that all buildings smelt that way when one was
accustomed to open air? White paper hangings with Order-blue vines or lines or
whatever they were called, covered the walls. The occasional pastel fairy
dragon peeked around the vines here and there, probably to make it all more
interesting, but utterly unrealistic. Had the artist ever seen what the
creatures actually looked like? What was wrong with a simple plain color, or
even white?
Two tall, oaken bookcases, showcasing books
published by the Order, stood proudly flanking the fireplace opposite the
windows while a third filled up the wall between the windows. A slightly worn
tea table and several similarly serviceable card tables served as focal points
for several clusters of lyre-back chairs near the far wall. Couches, covered in
something rusty-colored, with dragon-claw-and-ball feet filled up the rest of
the space. The whole effect was rather welcoming, and
blissfully quiet. The only other occupants were two brown minor drakes
wearing Order livery badges, studying a tome at a table near the windows.
“Wait here,
please. The Admiral will receive you shortly.” The butler bowed and strode out.
Wentworth took
Laconia to a small couch bathed in the sunbeam from the window opposite the
drakes. He sat and helped Laconia arrange himself on his lap. “Are you well?”
Laconia grumbled,
which to most sounded like a growl. But once one heard Laconia truly growl, one
never mistook one for the other again. “I am fine.”
Wentworth stroked
his silky black fur and scratched behind his ears. “I know the place smells
very odd, but you will grow used to it.”
“That is easy for
you to say. You have never had a smell warn you a larger dragon was about to
try and make you his breakfast.”
“That was quite the interesting morning, was it not? I
would have been consumed right along with you. I do quite remember how that
feels.” Perhaps Croft was right, he should write that adventure as a
monograph on the territorial nature of sea drakes and submit it to the Order
for publication. It was quite the story.
Laconia pressed
his cheek into Wentworth’s hand. “But you did not smell it coming.” His tail thumped
dully against the cushions as he opened his mouth and flicked his forked tongue
in the air.
“You are not
accustomed to the smells of land. Anything that does not reek of salt air
smells wrong to you.”
“While I much
prefer that smell
“As is the term
warm-blood—when used by a dragon.”
“When they do not
offend my olfaction—”
“Ahh, Captain
Wentworth!” Admiral Easterly strode in.
Laconia flicked
his tongue against Easterly’s hand. Some of the tension left his shoulders and
he rubbed his cheek against Easterly’s palm.
“You have become
quite the legend in the Navy—the luckiest ship’s cat you are called. We could
have done with a dozen more like you finding prize ships out there.”
“Then why assign
so many dragon-deaf as captains?”
Wentworth and
Easterly chuckled.
“One can only work
with what one has. Come back to my office.” Easterly led them upstairs to a
room that faced the mews.
The office was
small by the standards of landed accommodations, but spacious to any ship’s
captain. Stark white walls, bare as the clean and polished wood floor; their
footsteps echoing off both. Tidy and efficient. Shelves near the window held a
sextant, a telescope and books on navigation and nautical dragons—oh! There was
one he had not read:
“Might I borrow
that?” Wentworth pointed to the volume.
In a single
movement, Easterly pulled the book from the shelf, handed it to Wentworth and
pointed to a chair near the worn, dark oak desk that occupied the center of the
narrow room. “Ever hungry for learning, aren’t you! Of course, you can. In
fact, I would even recommend it, given what I have to talk with you about. Sit,
sit, be comfortable
Laconia chirruped
a sound of approval. Coiling his tail to use like a spring, he launched himself
to the desktop. He circled the pillow, sniffing it deeply, fanged jaws
half-open and eyes a little glazed. What—rather who—had been there before?
“Do not worry, she
does not mind sharing this particular perch. Mina is resigned that my office is
a public place.”
“I did not know
you had a Friend once again.” Wentworth drew the wooden armchair close to the
dragon pillow and sat down.
“She befriended me when her previous Friend died, another
old Admiral. She likes sea-faring men, after they have retired. Mina does not
like to sail herself.” Easterly looked over his shoulder toward the bookcase.
A fluffy grey head peeked out from behind the
bookcase. “Meyrrrrow.” High and feminine, it was almost as though she spoke
with an accent.
“Pray come out and be introduced.”
Mina slither-crept
into the light and looked up at Easterly. Perhaps only half Laconia’s size, she
seemed small, though by feline standards she was certainly substantial. Long
and lithe, the silver fur of her front, feline half blended seamlessly into
gleaming silver scales on her serpentine tail. Stars above, she was a gorgeous
creature. Intelligent deep blue eyes stared up at him, searching his character,
his worthiness to be an acquaintance—or at least it looked very much that way.
Laconia chirruped at
her. She regarded him a moment, eyes growing very large. Her jaw opened
slightly; her fangs evident as she breathed deep. “Mrrroww!” She sprang to the
desk near Easterly.
“Mina,
may I present Laconia and Wentworth, Friend of Laconia.”
Wentworth
bowed from his shoulders to Mina and Laconia dipped his head slightly, but not
below Mina’s. Ah, yes, dominance, it was always dominance with dragons.
She
regarded Wentworth a moment longer, then turned to Laconia. She leaned toward
him and sniffed rapidly. Laconia mirrored her. He stepped forward to sniff her neck. When she admitted the attention, he
slithered closer, drawing his nose down her entire length as she did the same
for him, flowing in a large draconic circle on the desktop. The circle stopped,
and she ducked under him, rubbing the top of her head against his belly. He
purred and pressed down a mite as though to embrace her as she did.
She
slithered around to face him. Wide eyed and blinking, was it possible for a
tatzelwurm to be drunk? Dragon thunder! Laconia wore the same expression.
“Yourrr
visit is welcome.” She pressed her cheek to Laconia’s.
Laconia
licked her face and rubbed his cheek against hers. “Your scent … is right.” He
purred and sighed and licked his lips.
She purred and hopped on the pillow, curling
into a dainty ball with her chin resting coyly on her tail. Laconia followed,
curling around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. By Jove, that was an
awfully friendly arrangement.
Easterly lifted his eyebrows and shrugged.
“Your
“Yes, yes indeed.”
Easterly tugged his jacket straight and sat down. “I am not sorry to hear you
have been beached for the foreseeable future. I know that is anathema to many
Captains, but truly, we need men like you for the Order.”
“Like me?” So many
things that could mean, and not all of them complimentary.
“Proven
dragon-hearing men who can follow orders, who can manage themselves in a
crisis, and make good decisions on their own. Exactly what the Navy has trained
you for.”
Laconia’s ears
pricked, and he fixed his eyes on Easterly, wrapping his tail a little tighter
around Mina.
“What is happening?”
“Where dragons are concerned, there are always a great many
things happening. But, since the revolution in France and most recently the war
with Napoleon has affected the continental dragons, times are especially
turbulent.”
“What has that to do with English
dragons?” Wentworth crossed his arms and leaned in, heart beating faster. Damn
battle reflexes kicking in.
The tip of Laconia’s tail twitched and his
forked tongue flicked. He felt it, too.
“Major dragons along the coast, both land and
the few marine ones we have relations with, have been on edge watching for
signs of invasion. I will tell you privately, it is a good thing that never
happened. The Pendragon Accords were never written to
consider the ramifications of an invading foreign army from the continent.”
“Why not? The Romans—”
Easterly lifted open hands. “Yes, yes, just
chalk it up to arrogance. It is a problem that is being
addressed in London even now. A joint committee of dragons and Blue Order
Officers, including representatives of both the Army and Navy, is attempting to
draft new provisions to deal with the matter. But in the meantime,
we must soothe ruffled scales as it were, and I need Dragon Mates like you to
do it.”
“Whose scales are
ruffled?” Laconia’s tail twitched faster.
“Have you met
Cornwall?”
“The Prince Regent
or the firedrake?” Prickles started at Wentworth’s scalp and raced down every
limb.
“Either, both?
They are not exactly dissimilar.” The admiral snorted. “Of course, I never said
such a thing.”
“Of course not,”
Wentworth muttered.
“In any case, we
have received a number of complaints from minor dragons of the Cornwall Keep.
Cornwall has been unusually restive of late. They fear there is something
seriously the matter and, worse still, Cornwall is contemplating handling the
matter himself. It is rarely a good idea to permit major dragons to manage
affairs on their terms.”
“Is that not what
the Accords are for?” Blood roared in Wentworth’s ears. He fought the urge to
spring to his feet.
“It is precisely
why there are Keepers assigned to the major dragons, charged with handling
issues for the dragons. While I have known a great many hotheaded and stubborn
men, I have yet to meet one who rivals the amount of damage an angry dragon can
cause.”
“Then why is the
Prince Regent not managing the matter?”
Easterly glowered.
That had been a
stupid question.
“The key issue
here is that a particular kind of diplomacy is needed—”
“You think Laconia
and I are suited for that?” Wentworth sneaked a quick glance at Laconia.
“I need a man who
has had dealings with nautical dragons, as the matter involves sea hold
property.”
Now he had to
move! Wentworth jumped up and paced the length of the far too short room. “
“That is the heart of the current debate.
Here.” Easterly plucked a thin red leather-bound volume—a monograph perhaps—off
the shelf and handed it to Wentworth as he strode past. Determining the
Boundaries of Major Dragon Holdings: The Implications and Complications of
Instinctive Dragon Territorial Determinations Intersecting with Human
Traditions and Law.
Damn,
that looked complicated.
“Unfortunately, the legal codes have not been
rendered very clearly. In the current situation, I am not even certain Blue
Order codes cover the situation.”
“And what
precisely is the situation.” Wentworth fell into his seat with a dull thud.
“Cornwall has laid
claim to something off his coast that we are not even sure exists.” Easterly
pressed his temples hard.
“So, the dragon
might be mad?”
“Some have
entertained that possibility.”
“You want us to go
and confront a fire drake—a royal firedrake—who may well be touched in the
head—as mad as the king himself?” Wentworth dropped the monograph on the desk.
Mina started;
Laconia glared at him.
“In short, yes.
And, the Prince Regent might also be very interested in the matter, should the
news reach him directly.”
“The Prince does
not know the nature of the situation?”
“He has not
informed us of any problem and the Order has not contacted him regarding the
complaints—yet.”
“You must be
joking? That amounts to keeping secrets from the crown!” Wentworth threw his
head back and huffed. “I might be beached, but I am hardly dicked in the nob
myself, and I am quite certain Laconia—”
“We have dealt
with worse.” Laconia lifted his head slightly, glancing from Easterly to
Wentworth. “You recall that sea drake who tried to refuse to grant us passage
through her territory? She had an entire battalion of sea drakes and marine
wyrms ready to do battle for the territory.”
“What has that to
do with—”
“Or the herd of
hippocampi who thought you violated their fishing ground?’
“Again, what has
that to do—”
Laconia stood and
walked across the desk to look Wentworth in the eye. “What else are you going
to do until you find a mate?”
Wentworth’s jaw
dropped and he sputtered. “Dragon’s blood and sea foam!”
“You will mind
your language around my mate.” Laconia glanced back at Mina and chirruped.
“Your mate?”
Wentworth and Easterly said simultaneously.
“Yes.” The
tatzelwurms hissed.
ot be
at loose ends right now. You must have a way of keeping yourself occupied until
…”
Wentworth slapped
his forehead. “How do you intend for us to get to Cornwall?”
Is it a little off the beaten path for Austenesque
fiction? Absolutely! But what better time to try out something entirely new and
different than a year like 2020?
