“Don’t trouble yourself, Sandel. She’ll come if she chooses. If not, you can’t force her to.”
Two days later, as he milked the cow in the barn, he noticed small footprints in the dark earth near the ladder leading into the loft. He and Derah left apples, pears, or fresh bread wrapped in a cloth in the loft. Each day when he climbed the ladder to replenish the supply the food was missing. He left a wool blanket in the loft. The next time he entered the loft, he saw the blanket was neatly folded, placed in a corner between thick mounds of hay.
They waited for a week for the girl to make an appearance. It came as Sandel carried the milk back to Derah to churn for butter. He turned at the sound of footsteps on the path. There she stood, painfully thin with impossibly large emerald eyes. “Can I please have milk?”
“Of course, you can, lass. Come with me to the cottage where it’s warm.” She shook her head vigorously and backed away from where he stood. “Tell you what, Derah and I will leave milk each day in a bottle with a cork stopper. Would that be all right?”
“You better not trick me,” came the reply. She put more distance between them. “Tricks are not nice.”
“I promise never to trick you, Loriann. That was your name, wasn’t it?” he reassured.
She gave a slight nod then turned and ran. She did not make a path toward the barn. Instead, she turned and veered into the forest. True to his word, Sandel left milk in the barn for the next two weeks. After that she visited them from afar, always standing a good distance away, ready to run. Once she came as close as the doorway, peering inside as they sat at the table for the evening meal.
“You can come in if you like,” Derah offered. The girl shook her head vigorously. “Is there something you need?”
“Can I pick apples from the tree? I won’t take more than I can eat.” Loriann stood several feet away as she asked the question.
“Certainly,” Derah replied. “Take all you want. Just be careful you don’t fall. Moss grows on some limbs of the older trees.”
Loriann continued to sleep in the barn. She refused the room they offered to her, roaming freely in the outdoors. She completed random chores or tasks around the farm when Derah or Sandel went to the market. Loriann appeared one morning as Derah milked the cow. She watched intently, as the woman’s skillful hands pulled the teats, making milk spray into the pail.
“Can I try?” Loriann finally asked.
“You can, dear. Come sit on the stool.”
Loriann learned quickly, mastering the art of milking the cow with ease. After that, she would come to the porch each morning to fetch the pail, attend to the cow, then return with a pail nearly full of milk. The mere mention of sleeping in the spare room led to her flight into the forest where she disappeared for days before returning. Derah and Sandel discussed how the outer wounds had faded and healed weeks earlier. It was their fear the girl’s inner wounds would never heal.
A year passed without incident. Loriann continued to sleep in the barn loft. She contributed to the couple’s workload but refused to join them inside the cottage. After a time, she came to the cottage to fetch the evening meal before returning to the barn for the night. Each morning the girl placed the clean dishes on top of a barrel beside the door.
Derah stepped outside the cottage to announce the evening meal one evening. “Loriann! Supper is ready!” She could see Loriann in the distance, coming down the path with the pail, no doubt, full of milk.
***
Loriann
The familiar voice rang out from the small cottage. Loriann stayed for well over a year. Derah and Sandel treated her as if she were their own child. The couple showed her nothing but kindness and gentleness. She slept in the hayloft, refusing the extra room. Shortly after arriving, she helped the couple with chores and other work around the farm. Her time at the farm built the beginnings of trust.
She walked along the path leading from the barn to the house. A pail of milk sloshed with each step. She was careful not to spill a drop. A cup with fresh-baked bread and butter always made meals better. An unbidden thought knifed its way through her mind. Loriann closed her eyes as she stopped walking. Where had it come from? Someone was near. Someone who wanted to hurt Sandel and Derah.
Milk spread across the path, seeping into the dark earth. She dropped the pail and ran. Running horses crested the hill behind the house. Evil men with weapons wearing the king’s crest on their armor. She saw the lion’s head and upper body combined with the eagle’s feet.
Her breath came in harsh puffs as she ran faster. Arms and legs pumped harder, feet thumping the ground. She had to get there first!
Sandel met the men as they rode up to the front of the cottage. Their voices were inaudible, but their laughter was loud, almost tangible. One man raised a spear. It fell, piercing the man’s chest. She stopped, frozen in horror as Sandel crumpled to the ground. Derah ran from the house, fell on her knees, loudly weeping as she cradled her dead husband’s head.
Loriann ran again. The rage built as it slid from its hiding place in her mind. It burrowed into her heart as she drew near the house. The men dismounted. One man grabbed Derah, fondling her as he would a common whore.
A sickening taste grew in Loriann’s mouth to see her friend treated so poorly. They ignored Derah’s words of protest and tears as they pushed her from one man to the other. Their loud, raucous laughter filled the air.
Almost there, Loriann thought, pushing her body harder. Almost...there…
The thought of reaching Derah before it was too late faded from her mind. The rage grew stronger as she saw a man slap Derah. A second man drew a dagger before drawing the razor-sharp blade across the woman’s throat. Derah crumpled to the ground beside Sandel’s body. Loriann stopped running as the men spat on the bodies of her friends.
One man glanced up as if just noticing the girl standing a dozen feet from the house. “Look up boys. This one has promise, even if her tits are too small.”
The men walked toward her. Only a few steps were taken before the rage exploded. A conflagration of emerald green raced toward the man who killed Derah. It consumed him instantly. He dropped to his knees screaming, a high-pitched cry of agony and death. One of the other men tried to smother the flames. He found his hands and arms on fire.
Rage continued to build as control slipped away. The ground rumbled then split open, revealing a jagged pit. The remaining men fell into the chasm that opened beneath their feet. She stood on the edge looking down at her prey.
“You killed them.”
“We’re the king’s guard. We can do whatever the hell we want!” The man who had killed Sandel spat at her.
The tight smile formed on her lips. A wall of emerald flame raced toward the men before exploding. It incinerated their bodies within seconds.
Tears fell down her cheeks. She went to her fallen friends. Sobs racked her body for a short time. Life would be difficult without Derah and Sandel Humbel.
Work on the farm strengthened her over time. She dug graves for Derah and Sandel, barely stopping to rest until the task was done. The full twin moons rose in the sky before the last shovel of dirt fell in place atop the graves. She glanced skyward, pack upon one shoulder. She could not stay here. There were too many memories. More of the king’s men would come for her. Heading south once again, she made her way toward Astor.
***
Chapter 3
Kaegan
Kaegan lived his entire life in Froudown, one of the larger villages in the Olde World. His parents lavished the stout, charming boy with love and attention. He knew the value of hard work, something ingrained in his psyche by his father. The family was not as poor as many others in the village. Never a day passed when there was no food.
He had no siblings but Brell and Feth, local boys close to his age, were the best friends a young man could ask for. There were many adventures undertaken with them—anything from catching frogs to scare the girls with to trying to sneak a peek up the skirts o
f a passing lady as they lay under the bridge. They caught their fair share of fish from nearby ponds and brooks.
Kaegan’s parents passed away a few months apart when he reached seventeen years. After that, he found time spent with his friends more important than ever. The boys were among the few who came to pay their respects at the solemn burial in the potter’s field. It eased the ache of loneliness and the occasional tears of grief he shed upon entering the cottage he called home.
A usual day for the boys called for hard work at manual labor or in the fields. They spent evenings at the local tavern where a few coppers bought a pint or two of mead and a hardy plate of food. The tavern wenches were more than willing to make their evenings more interesting. Kaegan rarely dallied with the women as his thoughts turned to the tight bond of love his parents had shared. He hoped to find the same happiness.
One day Kaegan noticed a strange girl about the village. Long, ebony hair and a pale face were nearly hidden beneath a hooded cloak. She kept the affair pulled close about her body. Occasionally she would appear in the tavern at night for a bowl of stew or a plate of food. She disappeared, like a ghost, before he could approach to learn more. He wondered who she was and what brought her to Froudown.
Several months passed as the girl’s visits lessened. He thought perhaps she had disappeared forever. Kaegan sat in a back corner of the tavern with his best friends on a cool spring evening. The food was cheap and filling. Half a chicken with roasted potatoes and a chunk of crusty bread for a copper. The mead was just as good. They carried enough coin to have a jolly good time. The work and pay were good that day.
Brell and Feth were well into their cups. Brell pulled a tavern wench onto his knee. She did not seem to care that a hand darted inside the low-cut blouse. She giggled as Brell squeezed her breast. Feth stumbled outside to relieve himself. Kaegan knew it was time to stop drinking mead. A fight usually broke out at the tavern when it was this crowded and rowdy.
She appeared without warning. The hood was pulled about her face as usual. Kaegan glimpsed a graceful neck and ebony hair. His breath caught as emerald eyes met his briefly. She glanced away, eyes darting elsewhere, before making her way to a table near the fireplace.
“Hold my place, Brell.” He knew the words were wasted when his friend and the tavern wench disappeared into a dark corner. No matter. His interests lay elsewhere. He intended to learn who the girl was.
A crowded table blocked his path. He dodged a man who stood then bowed before launching into an off-key bawdy ballad. The mysterious lady looked up as he arrived at the table. “Can I join you, my lady?”
Her eyes continued flitting about the room. “Join me?”
Kaegan wasted no time in taking a seat. “Thank you, don’t mind if I do!”
She peered at him, brow furrowed. She placed the chicken leg back on the plate sitting in front of her. “Do I know you?”
“Pleased to meet you, my name is Kaegan. And you are…?” His large hand grasped the slight, delicate one resting on the table. Ever the gallant gentleman, he pressed his lips against the back of her hand. She snatched it from his grasp as if burned.
“We have never met.” She glanced at him from beneath thick black lashes. “Why did you leave your friends to come sit with me?”
The emerald eyes mesmerized Kaegan. “I feel as if we have met. I’ve seen you ‘round the village for a few months now. Are you a traveler?“
She nodded in response. “To Astor.”
Two members of the king’s guard entered the tavern. The men’s arrival interrupted their conversation. She blanched, turning even paler.
“You didn’t tell me your name,” he continued.
Taking the chance, she sprang into action. “I will tell you my name if you can help me.” Her voice lowered to a whisper as she leaned close to his ear. “Help me get out the back door unnoticed. Please.”
Kaegan shivered as her lips brushed his ear. The attraction was instantaneous. “Follow me.” He stood and used his tall, muscular body to block the girl from view.
At precisely that moment the singing man stumbled into a guard. The uncoordinated movement dumped a full mug of mead unceremoniously onto the heads of several men sitting nearby. A man stood, shouted a curse, and threw a punch at the singing man. The nightly brawl had begun almost on cue. Kaegan whisked the lady out the back without being noticed.
A trembling hand touched his arm. “I need a place to hide, to rest. I’ve been traveling for so long.”
The gods had smiled upon him. “I’ll gladly help if you’ll follow me.”
He led her through the village back streets. The route took them far from prying eyes. Her reaction to the king’s guard led him to believe she was fearful of them. Something would reveal the reason for her fear in good time.
Loriann followed Kaegan as he approached a small cottage. A key turned in the lock before he pushed the door open and motioned her inside. He closed and locked the door behind them.
A taper thrust into the red coals nestled in the fireplace came to life. Kaegan used it to light the single lantern he owned. He bent to the work of bringing the fire to life. He motioned about the cottage’s only room. “It isn’t much. Keeps me warm. Gives me a place to lay my head at night. “
“Thank you. My name is Loriann.” She rose on her toes to press a kiss to his stubble roughened cheek before moving several feet away. “I-I don’t want to seem forward. I have nowhere to go. May I spend the night here?”
The broad grin made him even more handsome. “It would honor me to have you as my guest.”
“There’s only one bed.” She glanced at the bed covered by a rough wool blanket.
“Just one.”
“I’ll sleep near the fireplace on the floor.” Her uncertainty was titillating.
Kaegan found that he was drowning in the depths of her eyes. “You could share the bed with me. I promise to behave like a gentleman.”
“No, the floor is fine,” she replied. Loriann placed the heavy pack by the fireplace. She took a seat on the floor and leaned against the wall. The cloak wrapped tightly about her body would ward off the night chill.
He stoked the fire, squatting next to her as he fed one small piece of wood after another to the flickering flame. Taking a chance, he touched her arm, “You can sleep in the bed with me, honest I won’t bite.” The cold steel of the dagger’s edge was at his throat before the glimmer of light on steel could register in his mind.
The blade pressed harder. “If you touch me again, I’ll carve your eyes out of your head and leave you for the crows.”
The incident dashed the thought of a romantic tryst. He rose, blew out the lantern, then crawled beneath the blanket. “Will you tell me why you’re afraid?”
“I am afraid of what will happen.”
“What might happen?” He was more than curious to learn more about Loriann.
“It will not be good. I do not fear for myself. I fear for those men.” She yawned after speaking.
He turned to face her, eyes drinking in the pale beauty of her face. The emerald eyes seemed to glow in the fire’s flickering light. “The king’s guard fears no man or beast.”
“They would not fear me until it was too late.”
“You speak in riddles, my lady.”
She could see his questions would not end. “Riddles are sometimes necessary. I need to sleep. Running one step ahead of the king’s guard is grueling. I am young, but even the young need rest.”
“Rest. No harm will come to you.” Kaegan knew that sleep had overtaken her as her breathing became slow and deep. Tomorrow he would learn more.
***
Loriann
For the first time in years, Loriann felt rested. Exhaustion was a constant companion. She found the rage harder to control when it overwhelmed her.
Within moments of waking, she realized Kaegan was awake, sitting on the side of the bed watching her. He was a large, muscular man who could easily overpower her. Perhaps the
peaceful night showed that she could trust him to a degree. It may have revealed his respect for the blade she carried sheathed at her waist.
“We must go now. It is not safe here.” She stood, grabbed the pack, and slung it across her back before stepping to the door.
“I can’t go with you. I have work to do here.” he protested.
“I can pay you,” she replied. She thrust a small pouch filled with a mixture of gold, silver, and copper coins into his hand. “I need someone to watch my back. You’re big and stout, so I doubt many people would want to take you on in an honest fight.”
Kaegan stood, filling a pack with supplies and other essentials. The money she gave him was more than he would make in a month working in the fields. Perhaps there would be more where that came from. “I have no weapons, only this ax.” He held the rusty ax aloft in one hand.
“It will do. There is another town two days walk from here. You can get other weapons there if you wish.” She paused at the door, waiting for Kaegan to join her.
Kaegan’s memory held the intimate details of the back streets. This early in the morning, few people had risen from their beds. The deserted streets played in their favor. They were miles from the village before the midday sun had gained its place in the sky. Their journey proceeded in silence. Kaegan noticed the furtive glances over a shoulder.
By late afternoon, she finally relaxed. A thick copse of trees topped a nearby hill. Loriann beckoned toward the trees. “It looks like a good place to camp.”
He agreed. They entered the grove. Kaegan scouted for a place to set up camp. A small cave facing away from the road rewarded him. The ax felled brush to disguise the entrance.
Loriann built a fire then set about preparing two pallets of juniper boughs and bunches of thick grass. Their blankets and the small fire would be the only heat to keep the chill at bay.
“We must camp here for a few days,” Loriann reminded him as she stuffed handfuls of grass between gaps in the juniper boughs.
Emerald Fire Page 2