The Lord of the Clans

by Chris Lange

  The blinding pain hurtled her toward unconsciousness, but not quickly enough that she didn’t hear his sarcastic remark.

  “Oh, joy, here comes another disc.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The jolly whistling penetrated the fuzziness in her head. She opened her eyes, strained her tense neck, and looked around. Thank the Mighty Gods, she didn’t feel any pain. She sat on lush undergrowth, her back resting against a tree trunk. How long had she been out?

  Sitting on her right, he carved a piece of wood with his pocket knife, yet appeared to be waiting for her to come back to the Four Kingdoms. The merry tune he whistled would have been better served in a tavern.

  “Good evening, princess.”

  A vast plain stretched out before her eyes. No temples or shrines stood out, but a dark line on the horizon suggested the end of the day. It was still late morning when she’d passed out, so how could that be?

  “It’s evening?”

  “Yes. We’ve already lost time at the Shrine of Fate and now we’ve wasted half a day trampling in the wilderness.”

  “What do you mean? What happened?”

  “Take a look behind you.”

  She got to her feet first. Muscles stiff but otherwise in good order, she stretched her arms and legs before spinning round. A solid, living wall blocked her view from right to left.

  Massive trees, dense shrub thickets entwined with woody lianas formed an impenetrable edge to the jungle lying behind. Combined with high, coarse-stemmed grasses, the luxuriant vegetation seemed to be repelling intruders.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s called the Forest of the Dead.”

  “Uncanny name.”

  “But fitting. Whoever enters never comes out.”

  She swivelled her head toward him as he dropped the piece of wood he'd been carving and stood up. A dreary awareness seeping through her bones, she stared at him with attention.

  “I thought you said we travelled through this jungle.”

  “We did. And as you can see, we’re still alive.”

  By entering the inviolable forest, they had defied a mighty force of nature. Although he might feel like whistling because he had overcome an impossible ordeal, she didn’t like the idea of flouting the natural order of things. If a place was forbidden, nobody should try to enter it.

  “How?”

  “Well, I thought we were back to the Shrine of Fate when you replayed the same scene. You went all transfixed, then you threw yourself right into this cursed place. I merely hacked your way in.”

  “That doesn’t explain how we got out alive.”

  “Magic. What else? These woods must be sentient. It sounds peculiar, but I think the woods recognized you.”

  She opened big eyes at him, her brows seeming to reach for her hairline. In light of her recent acknowledgment of magic, his guess sounded plausible. Maybe a little on the far-fetched side, but conceivable. Somehow the Forest of the Dead had welcomed and protected her, but why?

  “Did we find anything?”

  “Another temple called the Shrine of Destiny. Silent and deserted like the Shrine of Fate, and very similar. It seems to me the Ancients didn’t have much imagination in the way of building their dwellings.”

  “You shouldn’t speak lightly of the Ancients.”

  His soft chortle roused the fine hair on the back of her neck. Fists on his hips, gaze sparkling, he leant in to whisper in her ear.

  “Why not? Do you think they’re listening?”

  He laughed when she punched him in the shoulder. She may never get used to his sometimes insolent manners, but she would keep on opposing him every time he crossed the line. The Ancients belonged to the sacred race. Anything related to them should be treated with reverence.

  “I don’t want to hear any more of your jibes. Show some respect, would you, and tell me what was in the temple.”

  “Check your pocket.”

  When she opened her palm, a black square glimmered next to the disk. Same size, same colour, only the shape distinguished them. In possession of two enigmatic items, she wondered anew about their use.

  “The Ancients had the capacity to foresee the future. There must be a reason they led me to these objects, and I wish I knew it.”

  “You won’t solve this mystery now. Come on, Ariana, night is coming, and we shouldn’t spend it so close to the Forest of the Dead.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a settlement a few leagues from here. Our fellow tribesmen will be happy to provide shelter for us. Besides, the leader is an old friend of mine. We’ll get the chance to catch up.”

  Receiving the Lord of the Clans was a rare honour for every tribe. Yet as she got on her horse, she couldn’t get rid of a nagging thought. The clan would offer them a cavern for the night. Once more, they’d be alone in a secluded place, free to act on their mutual cravings.

  If he touched her, she’d yield to his desire. The attraction was too strong to be denied. She knew that now.

  She didn’t possess the strength of will to push him away when he could lick her pussy the way he did, and turn her into a writhing mass of pleasure. She couldn’t say no to the powerful strokes of his large cock. But what of her pledge to Kelton? Was she an evildoer?

  The short ride didn’t appease the turmoil of her mind. As much as she needed to tell him, the words wouldn’t rise up. The landscape became hilly past the vast plain as they rode on toward the nearest hills.

  Soon the cloudy sky plunged them into twilight. The coming night seeming to bear down on her, she soundlessly sighed with relief when he called a halt halfway across a beaten path. He reached into his pocket with careful fingers and brought out a silver ring.

  “The settlement lies right behind this hill. Show this ring to the tribesman on watch duty, and ask for Alban.”

  “Why? Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “I’d rather keep my presence secret. If I show myself, we’re in for a long evening of festivities. I can’t bear the idea.”

  Suspicious of his true motives, she took the ring from his hand. Did he really want to skip a social gathering out of tiredness, or was he manoeuvring to get them alone and lure her into his pallet? She cast him a sideways glance, but his impassive face didn’t enlighten her.

  “What’s this ring?”

  “The warriors’ symbol. They’re made by my blacksmith, and all clan leaders have one. Go now, and for the love of the Creators, try not to get lost between here and the other side of the hill.”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

  He winked at her begrudging expression. Ignoring his amusement, she pressed her heels against the flanks of her horse and trotted away. She followed the path until the settlement came into view.

  She'd assumed those tribe people lived in tunnels and caves like Cameron’s clan, but she was surprised to discover fair-sized, wooden houses built in the shape of a circle. A thick, straw fence surrounded the hamlet. An outpost guarded the entrance right in front of her. With barely enough light to make out her way, she rode toward the watchman.

  He straightened up at her approach. Although she didn’t discern any raised weapon, he looked on guard. Then his body seemed to loosen up as soon as she displayed the ring.

  “I’d like to speak to Alban.”

  “Would you mind waiting here? I’ll get him.”

  He dashed inside the settlement, and she lost sight of him when he rounded a house. Her horse shook its mane. She leant forward to run her fingers through the coarse hair while whispering appeasing sounds. Pretty soon, a stranger passed through the entrance and came up to her.

  “Good evening, I am Alban. May I be of help?”

  “Lord Cameron requests your presence.”

  The name brought a large smile to his lips. Even if the Lord of the Clans hadn’t mentioned their friendship, she’d have guessed these two were more than vague acquaintances.

  “Where is he?”

  “Back ther
e.”

  She pointed behind her. Glancing past her, the stranger peered into the night, then held up one of his hands.

  “It’s really dark now. We need a torch. Let me get my horse, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

  She liked him. As he hurried back to the hamlet, she wondered how the two men had become friends. A slight gust of wind brushed her hair, so she pulled the lapels of her cloak closer to her chest. The winter had been harsh, yet she still smelled spring in the chilly air.

  He came back astride a brown horse. The flame of his torch lighting the path, they rode abreast to the place where she’d left her lord. Cameron pushed his mount toward them. As soon as they were levelled, the two men grinned and slapped each other’s shoulders.

  “Cameron! It’s good to see you.”

  “Good to see you too, my friend. How have you been?”

  “I can’t complain. Since the war came to a standstill, life has been easier. Repelling attacks from Agravar and Borgom’s soldiers took a toll on our people. Now we just wish to be left in peace. But what about you? I certainly didn’t expect you to pay us a visit before summer.”

  “I have business in the area. I thought we could spend a night here if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “Are you joking? Your presence is always an honour. The whole clan will be happy to welcome you and your mate.”

  She swung her head round. Seeing nothing of the obscured landscape, she prayed the stranger wouldn’t raise his torch, wouldn’t notice the colour of her cheeks. Whether he did or not, she tensed as Cameron’s diverted tone played with the shy streak of her senses.

  “Ariana is my healer. Thank you for the offer, Alban. We’ll gladly take any shelter you can provide. If you don’t mind, I will ask you to keep my visit to yourself. My business here is best left in the shadows for the time being. But don’t worry. I’ll officially come back next summer.”

  “I understand. Let’s get you two inside now.”

  They rode to the settlement in companionable silence. Alban made them circle the straw fence all the way to the back before dismounting. They secured the horses for the night and grabbed their saddlebags.

  With a few hard shoves and tugs, Alban created a gap large enough to let them pass through the bales. They went one after the other. On the other side of the fence, he opened the door of a small house.

  “Come on in.”

  When he lit some candles, she discovered an interior very similar to her own hut. Austere, but practical. She dropped her saddlebags on the table, and avoided glancing at the large pallet in the corner of the room. With an entreating look on his face, Alban came up to her.

  “If it isn’t too much to ask, would you mind checking over our sick and wounded? We don’t see healers very often around here. I’m sure they could use your help, especially the children.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Thank you, Ariana. I’ll inform them that you’re a distant cousin travelling alone, on your way to the Longrocks Mountains.”

  “I’m at your disposal.”

  He nodded with a relieved grin on his face and walked outside. She was about to follow him when Cameron took hold of her shoulders to press his chest against her back. Desire inflamed her at the simple touch. Stomach tight, nipples hard, she stalled as he nuzzled her neck.

  “Be a good little witch now.”

  He released her as quickly as he had made contact with her. She didn’t dare turn round and see lust in his eyes. Legs wobbly, she joined Alban outside. Only then did she breathe freely.

  He led her to the centre of the hamlet, inside what looked like the largest house. A woman welcomed them with a warm smile. She walked to him, and he took her into his arms.

  “This is Doireann, my wife. She’ll round up our wounded for you. Come, Ariana, sit by the fire.”

  He indicated the fireplace. While she sat down on a chair, the couple moved toward the front door and talked in such low tones that she didn’t catch a single word. They might have been conspirators, yet the way they stared into each other’s eyes told of love and trust.

  Watching them, she rubbed her palms along her thighs to quench a pang of envy. Would she ever know the bond they shared? Her heart skittered at the idea of sharing this feeling with the Lord of the Clans.

  Alban leant in to place a tender kiss on his wife’s brow. Then he straightened up and grabbed the door handle.

  “I’ll send Erik first. He’ll spread the word that you’re here, Ariana, and I’m sure our people will flock to you. Some of them really need your talents. Thank you again for doing this. We appreciate your kindness.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  He gave her the healer’s bow before disappearing into the night. Doireann came to sit across from her. Her tired features lit by the reflection from the flames, she bent down to chuck pieces of wood into the fire.

  “My husband tells me you’re travelling with our Lord. This is unexpected to say the least.”

  A startled look must have crossed her face because the woman instantly raised her hands in a soothing manner.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to our people. But Alban always confides in me, and he got me curious. How did you two meet? “

  “By chance as it happens. I got lost in the Longrocks Mountains last week, and I ended up in Cameron’s caves. He was suffering from a bad injury, so I treated him. I guess we got to talking. When I told him I was on my way to visit my sick aunt’s, he offered to be my guide.”

  “That is definitely odd. I’ve known our Lord for many years now, but he never struck me as the compassionate type. You must have made quite an impression indeed.”

  “I have to say I’ve been a healer my whole life, and I’m good at my trade. He appeared satisfied with my work.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  She felt like flinching under the woman’s intense scrutiny. Although friendly, her gaze seemed to pierce right through her. Doireann’s eyes glazed over as if she could peer into unknown dimensions, and she leant forward.

  “You aren’t just his healer. No, I can feel there’s something special about you. You are mates, and you’re in love with each other. May the Mighty Gods help us. The darkness will devour you both.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Her first patient turned out to be a warrior named Erik. Infection had spread over his back, slashed by an enemy’s blade while out on patrol. The wound festered because he hadn’t been treated properly. Aware of her abilities, she nonetheless used the contents of her pouch to heal him. She didn’t enjoy pretending, but revealing her secret to strangers didn’t seem a good idea either.

  “Have a good night’s sleep, Erik. You’ll be fine in the morning.”

  “Thank you, healer.”

  “You're most welcome.”

  He must have spread the word after his departure because, moments later, people squeezed into Alban’s house. Wounded warriors, adults with diseases, and sick children stood in line, waiting for her to alleviate their pain. Which was fine with her. She didn’t want to reflect on Doireann’s message. Her words and voice had sounded too much like an ominous prediction.

  So she healed, doing her best to shut her mind off the woman’s foretelling. What devouring darkness was she talking about? Most importantly, could she be right about Cameron’s feelings for her? Hope swelled in her like a flower in spring. At the same time, her heart crunched under the heavy weight of her pledge, of the good man expecting her return home.

  Little by little, the room cleared. Her pouch had been empty for a while by the time she treated the last person, and she had to fold her hands to keep up the pretence. Eyelids heavy, she stifled a yawn when the door finally closed. Still, the smell of Doireann’s cooking made her stomach grumble.

  “What a delicious odour.”

  “Thank you, Ariana, you’re a very dedicated and kind person. I’m glad we got the opportunity to meet.”

  “So am I.”

  The
woman walked to the kitchen to fill a pot with mouth-watering stew. Observing her, she bit her lip as an abrupt urge to enquire about the cryptic message made her legs jitter. She hesitated a little longer, darting her gaze over the dancing of the flames. As much as she dreaded the answer, she needed to be certain. Her mind made up, she glanced up across the room.

  “Doireann, what did you mean earlier?”

  “I’m sorry, dear, I don’t understand.”

  “You know, what you said about Cameron and me.”

  The large spoon she’d been holding clattered against the kitchen table. As if the sharp noise rattled her nerves, she rushed to flatten her hand over the cooking tool. Her stare revealed a deep emotion, somewhat akin to suffering, as she regarded her guest with sympathy and sorrow.

  “I'm afraid I don’t recall my words. You see, I come from a long line of seers, yet my skills are fickle and unpredictable. The gift just comes out at times without my control. I say things, but I don’t remember them afterwards. All I can tell you for certain is that my predictions aren’t prophecies.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Predictions are visions of an almost certain future, but they can be altered by our actions. Prophecies are set in stone.”

  “Then there’s a chance your message won’t come true?”

  She nodded, her features softening to a mellow smile. Before she could add more, Alban barged into the house.

  “It’s so good to see Cameron after all this time. I wish he’d come more often. By the way, Ariana, he’s waiting for you.”

  To do what? Belly fluttering with the delicious sting of desire, mouth drying with anticipation, she turned to the woman who happened to be the bearer of a double-edged gift.

  “Good night, Doireann.”

  “Here, take this before you go. I made it for you and our lord. I hope you’ll enjoy my simple cooking.”

  She rummaged in a small cabinet sitting atop the table to retrieve a lid. Covering the full pot, she then handed it to her with a smile while addressing her husband, who stood by the front door.

  “Don’t forget to mention to Cameron that Ariana did an incredible job tonight. Our people will soon worship the ground she walks on.”