Dragon Prince - Chapter Two
The Dragon Prince
Chapter Two
“Let him go this instant!” the woman ordered sharply. Startled Jungmin released his hold, removing the scarf from around Hyunjoong’s neck as well. “Please forgive my idiotic son, your highness. I fear I have failed in rearing him since he did not recognize the face of his own Prince.”
Hyunjoong straightened, flexing his now free arms. In front of him the woman bowed deeply. “Please allow us to pass unharmed. We did not mean anything ill to you or your people; we only wished to retrieve one of our own.”
The Prince opened his mouth to reply when a cold blade was pressed to his throat and his arm was wrenched behind his back once more. Once was an acceptable oversight, but being caught like this twice in one night was irritating to say the least.
“What are you doing?” the woman called out shocked.
“He is coming with us. He is the ticket we need,” a voice much rougher then Jungmin’s had been, said near his ear. Hyunjoong could tell by the position of it that the man was in perfect range. All it would take is a sharp thrust of his head backwards and a few simple moves with his hand that was still free and he would not only be loose but armed as well.
“That is the Prince you are talking about. We can’t just take him. They will come after our people. We will not be safe anywhere in this land. No. He stays here,” she said firmly.
The man laughed. “Sorry, but you don’t call the shots in this one. Why don’t you go and take care of your little boys.” Both Jungmin and Hyungjoon, who had shifted to stand beside the older woman, wore looks of anger at the comment. Jungmin took a threatening step forward and she placed her palm flat on his chest to stop him.
“If you do this, you are condemning us all to death,” she told him.
“Look around you!” he snarled. “We are already dead. We have to take what we can get.”
She turned from him, herding the two boys in front of her. “Go help the families, spread the word that we move with haste.” Hyungjoon nodded and scampered off to do as he was told; Jungmin sent a last warning glare at the man before turning and following. “When you are through showing off your prize, he rides with me,” her voice carried a firm order that could not be argued with.
“As you wish.” Hyunjoong could almost hear the smile on the man behind him as he spoke.
“You know,” the Prince said casually, watching her walk towards a family, leaving the pair alone. “It’s not in good practice to defy your leader. You may wake up missing something valuable some morning and I’m not talking about possessions.”
“Shut up,” the man snarled, shaking him and just barely avoiding slicing him with the sword. “I will cut you.”
“Not before I knock you out and take the sword,” Hyunjoong answered calmly.
The man said nothing more, but his grip tightened as if that alone would be enough to hold him. It would take a lot more than that to overrule sixteen or so years of training and Hyungjoon weighted the value of breaking free and remaining where he was. He knew that he would never find the information he was looking for by any form of interrogation. The gypsies had never given up their own in the past, not even under the threat of death, and he knew this clan was no different.
The sounds of the camp packing up and preparing for motion were momentarily eclipsed by the sound of horses’ hoofs on hard packed ground. At the noise, the activity in the camp doubled and people shifted from a steady move to a scramble. The man shifted forward, shoving the Prince ahead of him. “Move,” he ordered as he walked them to the perimeter of camp. Hyunjoong obediently went where he was led.
They had just stepped beyond the last small fire, when the mounted men came into sight. Hyunjoong smiled at the sight of his personal guard leading the charge on their black stallions. They reigned in several horse lengths away as soon as they saw him. The moment the horses stopped, his guard was out of their saddles and drawing their weapons.
“Release the Prince and you will keep your life,” Yunho, the head of his personal unit announced firmly.
“Don’t take another step. I will cut him,” the man threatened. The blade at the Prince’s throat wavered in indecision.
“Cut him and it will be the last thing you do,” Yunho replied calmly.
Hyunjoong nearly laughed aloud as Jaejoong sent him a look, merely the briefest change in expression that no one else but those in the inner circle would ever be able to read. It was a question as to why he remained in a position that he could easily get out of.
“If you meet my demands he won’t be hurt,” the man declared.
“My Prince,” Yunho called, ignoring him. “Are you hurt?”
“The jaguar stalks in the jungle,” the Prince answered.
“Shut up!” the man shrieked.
If his guards were confused by the answer there was no indication of it. “What are your demands?” Jaejoong asked calmly.
“My people and I walk out of here without any trouble. We don’t get followed and we don’t get harassed. We obtain this immunity for the rest of this generation and the generations to come.”
“In return you release him to us,” Jaejoong answered.
The man laughed. “I think not. See I need him as my guarantee. As long as you all behave, no harm will come to him and he will be returned to you when we see fit.”
“Unacceptable,” Yunho declared.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to remove his head,” the man pressed the sword to Hyunjoong’s neck and a thin line of blood appeared.
“Wait!” Yunho said sharply. His eyes searched the face of his Prince and his charge before continuing. “He remains unharmed. If as much as a hair on his head is damaged, your entire clan will suffer the repercussions down to the last animal.”
“Get back on your horses,” the man ordered. The five guards stood for a moment more before sheathing their weapons and walking back to their horses. They didn’t take their eyes off the pair as they swung back up into the saddle. “No one follows or you will find him in pieces,” the man ordered as he began backing up. When they had backed several paces, he turned them and moved at a quicker pace through the camp that was busily getting ready for motion.
‡†‡†‡†‡†‡
Beneath him his stallion shifted restlessly. It could feel his unease and it wanted as much as he did to burst forth into action. Yunho patted it absently on the neck, offering it reassurance he didn’t feel. Beside him, Yoochun loosened his bow from his saddle, raised it and pulled out an arrow. He lifted the weapon, ready to fire, and sighted down the shaft of the arrow.
“I can hit him,” Yoochun said calmly.
Yunho knew that the man could easily hit his mark at a distance that would nearly be impossible for other archers to even attempt. He also knew that he could hit it without harming their Prince. “Not yet.” Yoochun said nothing but remained ready regardless.
“Jaejoong, care to explain what is going on?”
Although it was phrased as a question the other guard would know it was no such thing. “Not yet. This is what our Prince wanted,” Jaejoong replied.
“I don’t like it,” Junsu, who was mounted beyond Yoochun said.
“None of us like it,” Changmin replied, tightening his hold on his reigns to keep himself from doing anything dumb.
“We have to trust Prince Hyunjoong,” Jaejoong replied firmly.
“We will,” Yunho answered. “For now.”
‡†‡†‡†‡†‡
“Here, let me help,” Kyujong said softly. He reached towards the man in front of him with a dagger in hand. Carefully he began cutting the fabric from the others body, ignoring the winces as he had to peel fabric from blood dried wounds. When the shirt was finished he set to work on the rest of the garments. Only when the man before him was bare, did he tuck the knife away again. Kyujong dipped a cloth into a small pail of water and began to wipe at the blood on Youngsaeng’s skin. It would be easier to know what he was dealing with if he could actually see it.
“I’m going to be killed for ruining those clothes,” the man in front of him moaned.
“It’s not your fault,” Kyujong replied, wiping off his lower abdomen. “The guards provoked you, although you really could have held your temper a little bit better.”
“They were harassing you, threatening all of your work.”
“Youngsaeng, it’s just work. I could have made more. I can always make more,” Kyujong replied softly. He tossed the piece of cloth back in the bucket as he determined that was all he was getting clean. Quickly he shuffled across the floor of the wagon to a small trunk in the corner. He lifted the lid and began sifting through its contents, occasionally removing this or that and placing it on the ground.
There was a whistle from behind them and Youngsaeng looked up to see Hyungjoon standing just outside the back of the wagon. “They got you pretty good,” the younger man said with a slight upturn of the corner of his mouth.
“Hyungjoon, do you really want to mess with Youngsaeng when he is tired, hurt, and slightly angry with us anyway?” Kyujong asked without looking up.
“Not really, no. I just came to tell you that we are moving out and Jungmin is on leading duty. I’ll just close this door and leave you two to it,” the younger man said quickly. He then backed up a few steps so that he could close the heavy wooden door at the back of the wagon. There was a small click as the latch was put into place and then the sound of footsteps moving away.
Kyujong returned to his task a moment later, glad that the crystals by the ceiling provided enough light to see by. He had hated the wagons at first, small boxes on wheels, as he had called them. They were large enough to comfortably hold a family of eight or a family of four and their possessions. Made entirely out of wood and built like a box with small panels that opened as windows and a door to the rear with another smaller escape door to the front, Kyujong had immediately decided that he disliked the confinement. They were handy, however, for storing everything he needed to bring and they afforded a bit of privacy in a camp where there was rarely ever any to be found.
“I’m not angry with you,” Youngsaeng told him, amused. “I know you were just following to make sure they didn’t get killed.”
Kyujong smiled as he shifted back to the man. “I wouldn’t want to deal with Jungmin’s mother if he ran off and got himself killed. It’s better that I go with him and die too. That way I can’t be around to take the punishment.”
Youngsaeng laughed, and Kyujong opened a small box and handed it to him. “Hold this please.” Youngsaeng obediently took the offered object and held it where the other man could easily reach it. Kyujong dipped two fingers into the dark paste and set to work. He carefully spread the substance over every cut, pressing a clean piece of fabric to each one when he was finished with it. By the time he had finished the dozen or so cuts on the other man’s torso and several more on his lower body, the box was over half empty.
Kyujong wiped his fingers on the cloth before taking the small box from Youngsaeng and placing the lid on it. He wrapped it carefully in fabric and placed it back in the trunk. “You have got to stop finding trouble. It takes forever to make that stuff and you go through it so quickly.”
Youngsaeng smiled and the wagon lurched forward, signaling that their trip had begun. He winched as the movement cause him to jerk already sore wounds. Thankfully once it was moving, the ride was relatively smooth. Kyujong approached once more, poking at him with gentle fingers. When they pressed on the unbroken flesh over his ribs he hissed. Kyujong immediately began running his hands more firmly over the area and Youngsaeng gritted his teeth to deal with the pain of the touch.
A moment later the man cursed under his breath and pulled away. “I think your ribs are broken. Here drink this,” he said offing him a small vial of blue liquid.
“You know how I feel about drugs,” Youngsaeng reminded him sharply.
“It’s only for tonight and all it will do is dull the pain I promise,” Kyujong pressed the small vial into his hand and turned back to his supplies.
“Here,” Youngsaeng said a moment later, offering him an empty vial and a grimace.
“Thank you,” Kyujong took it from him before removing a jar of purple liquid from its protective wrappings. Holding a large bowl between his knees to steady it, he dumped the contents of the jar into it. Then he picked up a long strip of fabric and carefully dipped it into the liquid. As he removed it, he squeezed out the excess liquid before wrapping it firmly around Youngsaeng’s torso. Kyujong repeated the process several times before he was satisfied.
The remainder of the liquid he poured back into the jar. Then he wiped the bowl out before placing it all back into his trunk. “There. You are as fixed up as I can get you. Let me take a look at that collar.”
Youngsaeng shook his head. “It won’t make a difference. Nothing you have can take it off. It is made out of dragon magic.”
“It’s just metal isn’t it?”
“There is wood in it. I can feel it. It is sapping my energy as we speak,” Youngsaeng replied tiredly.
“Are you alright? You lost a lot of blood and it has been a while,” Kyujong let his words trail off but Youngsaeng knew what he meant.
“I will be fine. The collar has all five elements in it, so the effects of the wood are slow. I will be fine. I might know someone that can help with it. I’ll make my plans known tomorrow,” Youngsaeng bit his lip as if in indecision before sighing. “I think I may need you tonight.”
Kyujong nodded, turned and began placing the rest of his supplies back in his trunk. When they were stowed he began emptying the contents of his pouches and pockets into it as well. By the time he had placed it safely within and shut the trunk, Youngsaeng had unrolled both of their sleeping rolls and was sitting on his own.
“You shouldn’t do anything when you are hurt like that,” Kyujong scolded.
The other man shrugged. “I will heal fast enough. Not as fast as usual, but quickly enough.”
Kyujong nodded. He rose and moved about the wagon pulling a small piece of black fabric over ever crystal except for one at the front of the wagon, throwing the area into a very subdued and dim light. When he was finished, he returned to where Youngsaeng was waiting and began to remove his own clothing. Piece by piece he folded it and set it aside.
When he was finished he lowered himself to kneel in front of Youngsaeng. They didn’t say a thing as they reached for one another, as their lips fit together and Youngsaeng carefully laid backwards with Kyujong hovering over him. They didn’t need to say anything more then what had already been said, everything else had been said many times before. Silently Kyujong ignored the reflective metal of the collar and gave Youngsaeng exactly what he needed.
Chapter Three
Masterlist
AN: Here is the next chapter. I hope you guys are enjoying this so far. Let me know what you think of it.
Chapter Two
“Let him go this instant!” the woman ordered sharply. Startled Jungmin released his hold, removing the scarf from around Hyunjoong’s neck as well. “Please forgive my idiotic son, your highness. I fear I have failed in rearing him since he did not recognize the face of his own Prince.”
Hyunjoong straightened, flexing his now free arms. In front of him the woman bowed deeply. “Please allow us to pass unharmed. We did not mean anything ill to you or your people; we only wished to retrieve one of our own.”
The Prince opened his mouth to reply when a cold blade was pressed to his throat and his arm was wrenched behind his back once more. Once was an acceptable oversight, but being caught like this twice in one night was irritating to say the least.
“What are you doing?” the woman called out shocked.
“He is coming with us. He is the ticket we need,” a voice much rougher then Jungmin’s had been, said near his ear. Hyunjoong could tell by the position of it that the man was in perfect range. All it would take is a sharp thrust of his head backwards and a few simple moves with his hand that was still free and he would not only be loose but armed as well.
“That is the Prince you are talking about. We can’t just take him. They will come after our people. We will not be safe anywhere in this land. No. He stays here,” she said firmly.
The man laughed. “Sorry, but you don’t call the shots in this one. Why don’t you go and take care of your little boys.” Both Jungmin and Hyungjoon, who had shifted to stand beside the older woman, wore looks of anger at the comment. Jungmin took a threatening step forward and she placed her palm flat on his chest to stop him.
“If you do this, you are condemning us all to death,” she told him.
“Look around you!” he snarled. “We are already dead. We have to take what we can get.”
She turned from him, herding the two boys in front of her. “Go help the families, spread the word that we move with haste.” Hyungjoon nodded and scampered off to do as he was told; Jungmin sent a last warning glare at the man before turning and following. “When you are through showing off your prize, he rides with me,” her voice carried a firm order that could not be argued with.
“As you wish.” Hyunjoong could almost hear the smile on the man behind him as he spoke.
“You know,” the Prince said casually, watching her walk towards a family, leaving the pair alone. “It’s not in good practice to defy your leader. You may wake up missing something valuable some morning and I’m not talking about possessions.”
“Shut up,” the man snarled, shaking him and just barely avoiding slicing him with the sword. “I will cut you.”
“Not before I knock you out and take the sword,” Hyunjoong answered calmly.
The man said nothing more, but his grip tightened as if that alone would be enough to hold him. It would take a lot more than that to overrule sixteen or so years of training and Hyungjoon weighted the value of breaking free and remaining where he was. He knew that he would never find the information he was looking for by any form of interrogation. The gypsies had never given up their own in the past, not even under the threat of death, and he knew this clan was no different.
The sounds of the camp packing up and preparing for motion were momentarily eclipsed by the sound of horses’ hoofs on hard packed ground. At the noise, the activity in the camp doubled and people shifted from a steady move to a scramble. The man shifted forward, shoving the Prince ahead of him. “Move,” he ordered as he walked them to the perimeter of camp. Hyunjoong obediently went where he was led.
They had just stepped beyond the last small fire, when the mounted men came into sight. Hyunjoong smiled at the sight of his personal guard leading the charge on their black stallions. They reigned in several horse lengths away as soon as they saw him. The moment the horses stopped, his guard was out of their saddles and drawing their weapons.
“Release the Prince and you will keep your life,” Yunho, the head of his personal unit announced firmly.
“Don’t take another step. I will cut him,” the man threatened. The blade at the Prince’s throat wavered in indecision.
“Cut him and it will be the last thing you do,” Yunho replied calmly.
Hyunjoong nearly laughed aloud as Jaejoong sent him a look, merely the briefest change in expression that no one else but those in the inner circle would ever be able to read. It was a question as to why he remained in a position that he could easily get out of.
“If you meet my demands he won’t be hurt,” the man declared.
“My Prince,” Yunho called, ignoring him. “Are you hurt?”
“The jaguar stalks in the jungle,” the Prince answered.
“Shut up!” the man shrieked.
If his guards were confused by the answer there was no indication of it. “What are your demands?” Jaejoong asked calmly.
“My people and I walk out of here without any trouble. We don’t get followed and we don’t get harassed. We obtain this immunity for the rest of this generation and the generations to come.”
“In return you release him to us,” Jaejoong answered.
The man laughed. “I think not. See I need him as my guarantee. As long as you all behave, no harm will come to him and he will be returned to you when we see fit.”
“Unacceptable,” Yunho declared.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to remove his head,” the man pressed the sword to Hyunjoong’s neck and a thin line of blood appeared.
“Wait!” Yunho said sharply. His eyes searched the face of his Prince and his charge before continuing. “He remains unharmed. If as much as a hair on his head is damaged, your entire clan will suffer the repercussions down to the last animal.”
“Get back on your horses,” the man ordered. The five guards stood for a moment more before sheathing their weapons and walking back to their horses. They didn’t take their eyes off the pair as they swung back up into the saddle. “No one follows or you will find him in pieces,” the man ordered as he began backing up. When they had backed several paces, he turned them and moved at a quicker pace through the camp that was busily getting ready for motion.
‡†‡†‡†‡†‡
Beneath him his stallion shifted restlessly. It could feel his unease and it wanted as much as he did to burst forth into action. Yunho patted it absently on the neck, offering it reassurance he didn’t feel. Beside him, Yoochun loosened his bow from his saddle, raised it and pulled out an arrow. He lifted the weapon, ready to fire, and sighted down the shaft of the arrow.
“I can hit him,” Yoochun said calmly.
Yunho knew that the man could easily hit his mark at a distance that would nearly be impossible for other archers to even attempt. He also knew that he could hit it without harming their Prince. “Not yet.” Yoochun said nothing but remained ready regardless.
“Jaejoong, care to explain what is going on?”
Although it was phrased as a question the other guard would know it was no such thing. “Not yet. This is what our Prince wanted,” Jaejoong replied.
“I don’t like it,” Junsu, who was mounted beyond Yoochun said.
“None of us like it,” Changmin replied, tightening his hold on his reigns to keep himself from doing anything dumb.
“We have to trust Prince Hyunjoong,” Jaejoong replied firmly.
“We will,” Yunho answered. “For now.”
‡†‡†‡†‡†‡
“Here, let me help,” Kyujong said softly. He reached towards the man in front of him with a dagger in hand. Carefully he began cutting the fabric from the others body, ignoring the winces as he had to peel fabric from blood dried wounds. When the shirt was finished he set to work on the rest of the garments. Only when the man before him was bare, did he tuck the knife away again. Kyujong dipped a cloth into a small pail of water and began to wipe at the blood on Youngsaeng’s skin. It would be easier to know what he was dealing with if he could actually see it.
“I’m going to be killed for ruining those clothes,” the man in front of him moaned.
“It’s not your fault,” Kyujong replied, wiping off his lower abdomen. “The guards provoked you, although you really could have held your temper a little bit better.”
“They were harassing you, threatening all of your work.”
“Youngsaeng, it’s just work. I could have made more. I can always make more,” Kyujong replied softly. He tossed the piece of cloth back in the bucket as he determined that was all he was getting clean. Quickly he shuffled across the floor of the wagon to a small trunk in the corner. He lifted the lid and began sifting through its contents, occasionally removing this or that and placing it on the ground.
There was a whistle from behind them and Youngsaeng looked up to see Hyungjoon standing just outside the back of the wagon. “They got you pretty good,” the younger man said with a slight upturn of the corner of his mouth.
“Hyungjoon, do you really want to mess with Youngsaeng when he is tired, hurt, and slightly angry with us anyway?” Kyujong asked without looking up.
“Not really, no. I just came to tell you that we are moving out and Jungmin is on leading duty. I’ll just close this door and leave you two to it,” the younger man said quickly. He then backed up a few steps so that he could close the heavy wooden door at the back of the wagon. There was a small click as the latch was put into place and then the sound of footsteps moving away.
Kyujong returned to his task a moment later, glad that the crystals by the ceiling provided enough light to see by. He had hated the wagons at first, small boxes on wheels, as he had called them. They were large enough to comfortably hold a family of eight or a family of four and their possessions. Made entirely out of wood and built like a box with small panels that opened as windows and a door to the rear with another smaller escape door to the front, Kyujong had immediately decided that he disliked the confinement. They were handy, however, for storing everything he needed to bring and they afforded a bit of privacy in a camp where there was rarely ever any to be found.
“I’m not angry with you,” Youngsaeng told him, amused. “I know you were just following to make sure they didn’t get killed.”
Kyujong smiled as he shifted back to the man. “I wouldn’t want to deal with Jungmin’s mother if he ran off and got himself killed. It’s better that I go with him and die too. That way I can’t be around to take the punishment.”
Youngsaeng laughed, and Kyujong opened a small box and handed it to him. “Hold this please.” Youngsaeng obediently took the offered object and held it where the other man could easily reach it. Kyujong dipped two fingers into the dark paste and set to work. He carefully spread the substance over every cut, pressing a clean piece of fabric to each one when he was finished with it. By the time he had finished the dozen or so cuts on the other man’s torso and several more on his lower body, the box was over half empty.
Kyujong wiped his fingers on the cloth before taking the small box from Youngsaeng and placing the lid on it. He wrapped it carefully in fabric and placed it back in the trunk. “You have got to stop finding trouble. It takes forever to make that stuff and you go through it so quickly.”
Youngsaeng smiled and the wagon lurched forward, signaling that their trip had begun. He winched as the movement cause him to jerk already sore wounds. Thankfully once it was moving, the ride was relatively smooth. Kyujong approached once more, poking at him with gentle fingers. When they pressed on the unbroken flesh over his ribs he hissed. Kyujong immediately began running his hands more firmly over the area and Youngsaeng gritted his teeth to deal with the pain of the touch.
A moment later the man cursed under his breath and pulled away. “I think your ribs are broken. Here drink this,” he said offing him a small vial of blue liquid.
“You know how I feel about drugs,” Youngsaeng reminded him sharply.
“It’s only for tonight and all it will do is dull the pain I promise,” Kyujong pressed the small vial into his hand and turned back to his supplies.
“Here,” Youngsaeng said a moment later, offering him an empty vial and a grimace.
“Thank you,” Kyujong took it from him before removing a jar of purple liquid from its protective wrappings. Holding a large bowl between his knees to steady it, he dumped the contents of the jar into it. Then he picked up a long strip of fabric and carefully dipped it into the liquid. As he removed it, he squeezed out the excess liquid before wrapping it firmly around Youngsaeng’s torso. Kyujong repeated the process several times before he was satisfied.
The remainder of the liquid he poured back into the jar. Then he wiped the bowl out before placing it all back into his trunk. “There. You are as fixed up as I can get you. Let me take a look at that collar.”
Youngsaeng shook his head. “It won’t make a difference. Nothing you have can take it off. It is made out of dragon magic.”
“It’s just metal isn’t it?”
“There is wood in it. I can feel it. It is sapping my energy as we speak,” Youngsaeng replied tiredly.
“Are you alright? You lost a lot of blood and it has been a while,” Kyujong let his words trail off but Youngsaeng knew what he meant.
“I will be fine. The collar has all five elements in it, so the effects of the wood are slow. I will be fine. I might know someone that can help with it. I’ll make my plans known tomorrow,” Youngsaeng bit his lip as if in indecision before sighing. “I think I may need you tonight.”
Kyujong nodded, turned and began placing the rest of his supplies back in his trunk. When they were stowed he began emptying the contents of his pouches and pockets into it as well. By the time he had placed it safely within and shut the trunk, Youngsaeng had unrolled both of their sleeping rolls and was sitting on his own.
“You shouldn’t do anything when you are hurt like that,” Kyujong scolded.
The other man shrugged. “I will heal fast enough. Not as fast as usual, but quickly enough.”
Kyujong nodded. He rose and moved about the wagon pulling a small piece of black fabric over ever crystal except for one at the front of the wagon, throwing the area into a very subdued and dim light. When he was finished, he returned to where Youngsaeng was waiting and began to remove his own clothing. Piece by piece he folded it and set it aside.
When he was finished he lowered himself to kneel in front of Youngsaeng. They didn’t say a thing as they reached for one another, as their lips fit together and Youngsaeng carefully laid backwards with Kyujong hovering over him. They didn’t need to say anything more then what had already been said, everything else had been said many times before. Silently Kyujong ignored the reflective metal of the collar and gave Youngsaeng exactly what he needed.
Chapter Three
Masterlist
AN: Here is the next chapter. I hope you guys are enjoying this so far. Let me know what you think of it.