The Drameara was already up and ready to go when Lark opened her eyes the following morning. She pulled on her boots as he waited, his back turned to her. She tucked her hair into the hat, grimacing at the stains she had not noticed before, and set off after him as he headed down the road. She studied his back as he walked; he had multiple weapons strapped to his back and sides, but she could still see the muscles rippling beneath his shirt.
“Why do you fight with the Rhymers?” she asked as they walked.
“We have a common enemy.”
“Cambrians.”
“Descendants of Valor.”
“But you fight all Cambrians.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Have you seen me fight all Cambrians, princess?”
“The Crimson Guard, then. Why?”
“Because they deserve to die for their treatment of the Rhymers.”
“So you fight for the Rhymers?”
“I serve my mistress. For now, our purposes are aligned.”
“And what is your aligned purpose?”
“Valor’s descendants believe themselves to be invincible. We’re proving them wrong.”
She was silent as she considered his words. The Shadow Warriors were not so much supporting the Rhymers as using them.
“Where is your Shadow Warrior?” she asked after a few minutes.
“Close.”
“Is he attacking Cambrians right now?”
He was silent.
“How many Shadow Warriors are there?”
“Enough to bring the king and your father to their knees.”
“Whose blood do you drink?”
Silence.
“Is it the Shadow Warrior’s?”
He stopped and stalked back to where she stood. “Enough questions, princess.”
“Why, are you afraid to answer them?” she taunted.
“I will not give you anything you can take back to the commander.”
“Does that mean I am going to see the commander again?” she asked. He frowned. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”
His gaze met hers as he stepped up close. “If you don’t stop these questions, I will kill you now.”
“No, you won’t.”
He glared at her, their gazes clashing and the air between them pulsing with tension. His lips parted and his tongue flicked his bottom lip, and her breath stopped as she dropped her gaze to his mouth. He moved a fraction closer, and she could feel the heat from his body as she leaned in, drawn like a magnet. She wanted to move, to turn away, but she was rooted to the ground, held by a force that was too great to escape. His gaze was on her mouth, and she knew he was about to kiss her, when suddenly he whirled around and stalked away – and she felt herself sag in relief as a shuddering breath escaped her lungs. If he had kissed her, she would not have fought him, and now that he was no longer in front of her, this knowledge was a bitter pill to swallow. She could not deny that she was drawn to him, even as her mind rebelled at the thought. The Drameara was her captor, and he was out to destroy her and her people.
She took a deep breath; she could not allow him to get so close again. After a moment she began to follow after him, her step much slower than his. She should have killed him while she had the chance, she thought ruefully, instead of leaving him for dead on the rock. If another opportunity presented itself, she would not hesitate to take it.
Chapter 20
The rest of the day passed with only a few stilted words, and Lark was grateful when he kept his distance as they made camp that night. The next day passed in much the same way, with Lark trudging along behind him as he stalked ahead in silence. The terrain was growing a little more hilly as they walked, and on the third day, Lark saw smoke in the distance. As they grew closer, she could see that they were approaching a town. By her calculations, they would reach it by the end of the day.
“Are we stopping?” she asked the Drameara.
“No,” was his curt response.
“We could buy some bread, and maybe get a good meal.”
“I said no.”
She fell silent, recognizing the futility of arguing. They had not gone too much further when she heard a sniffling close by. She stopped, searching beyond the path, where she saw a young boy sitting on the ground, his legs pulled to his chest as he rested his face on his knees, his dark curls falling wildly around his face. She crouched before him, and he quickly looked up with a tear-streaked face. His brown eyes widened as he took in her pale features, then widened even more when the Drameara came stomping up behind her.
“Why are you crying?” Lark asked.
He dragged his eyes back from the Drameara to look at her. “’E ate all me things!” Tears sprang into his eyes once more and began to course down his cheeks. “Me lunch and me ’at and the note Mama gave me!”
Lark frowned. “Who did?”
“The goat,” he wailed. “And now I don’t know where to go and I won’t find me Da in Dundell, and I’m ’ungry!”
Lark suppressed a laugh as she glanced back at the Drameara, who was glaring at her with his arms folded over his chest. “I’m guessing that’s Dundell up ahead,” she said. The quirk of his eyebrow was his only response. She turned back to the boy. “We’ll help you find your Da,” she said.
“No,” the Drameara said, “we’re not going to Dundell. Someone else can help the boy.”
“Who?” She looked around. “There’s no-one else here.”
“Someone will come along.”
“We are not leaving him to fend for himself,” she said firmly. She turned back to the boy. “Do you know your Da’s name?”
“Aye. Are you stealing me?”
“Stealing you? Why would I do that?”
“To sell me as a slave.”
She looked at him in bemusement. “I don’t want to do that.”
“But you’re Cambrian!”
“You think that because I’m Cambrian I want to sell you as a slave?” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
“Aye. That’s what me sister always says. That if I don’t be’ave, she’ll take me to the Cambrians so they can sell me as a slave.”
“I think your sister is just trying to scare you,” Lark said. “We Cambrians don’t like stealing people or selling them as slaves. We leave that to the Rhymers,” she added in a mutter as she rose. “Come along, let’s go find your Da.”
He wiped his sleeve over his face as he got to his feet. “The Crimson Guard would sell me as a slave. They took Kenid’s Da and Ma away ’cause they were good Rhymers.”
“I’m sorry,” was all she could think of to say. She stepped past the Drameara, ignoring his scowl, and continued down the road, the boy at her side.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Dennith.”
“And tell me, Dennith, what other things does your sister tell you?”
They reached the town late afternoon, entering through a wooden gate that opened into the main road. Lark had pulled her cap over her head once more, hiding her hair. It took until dusk to find someone who knew Dennith’s father and could direct them to the place where he was staying. The roads wound around in confusing patterns, and it took another hour to find the house. The Drameara pounded on the door, his eagerness to be done with the errand evident in the tautness of his frame. The door was opened a moment later by a man in his thirties, whose eyes widened as he took in the man standing before him.
“Da!” Dennith threw himself at the man and wrapped his arms around his waist.
“Dennith? By the dragon, what are you doing here? And who are these people?”
“This is Star,” he said, indicating Lark. “She helped me find you.”
“I see.” The man was clearly confused. He glanced at the Drameara, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, the handles of his swords rising above his shoulders.
“Come,” the Drameara said to Lark, turning o
n his heel and stalking away.
Lark smiled at the man. “I’m sure Dennith will explain everything,” she said. She leaned closer. “And don’t worry about him – he’s always grumpy!”
“Is he Drameara?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
He tipped his head and gave her a penetrating look. “But you’re Cambrian?”
“I am.”
“Tell him to watch out for the Guard. They’ve been asking a lot of questions around town.”
“About him?”
“Him? No, Red Lions. It seems one escaped from them near Riverton.”
“I see. Well, I’d better go, before he comes storming back!”
The man gave a faint smile. “I don’t know how you helped Dennith, but thank you.”
She nodded in acknowledgement and started down the street after the Drameara. He had already disappeared around the corner, clearly eager to be gone. She reached the corner and looked down the road to see that he was already far ahead, being swallowed by a crowd of people. Without pausing to consider her actions, she didn’t follow but continued straight ahead, hastening her steps until she reached another corner and turned in the opposite direction. If the Guard found her with the Drameara, she would have a hard time convincing them of her identity. But if she could get to them separately, perhaps she could solicit their help.
The aroma of cooking food wafted past her nose and her stomach rumbled as she hurried past a brightly lit inn. She did not slow her step but rushed past. She had no idea where her footsteps were leading her – the only thought in her mind was to get away from the Drameara and find one of the Guard.
It was soon dark, and the number of people on the street was beginning to thin out. Just as Lark began to wonder what she would do if she did not find one of the Guardsmen, she heard the sound of laughter and looked up to see three members of the Crimson Guard heading down the street. Relief washed over her as she headed towards them. One of the men looked up at her approach.
“Well, lookee here, lads,” he said, “a woman coming to us! Can’t resist my handsome good looks.”
“I need your help,” Lark said.
“I’m sure you do, love. Have an itch that needs scratching.”
Lark looked at him in bemusement, until their coarse laughter made her realize what they meant. She lifted her chin and looked at them imperiously. “You’re wearing the king’s uniform and should act with more decorum!”
The men glanced at each other in amusement as they stepped closer. They had been drinking, she realized, and she took a step back. The man in the middle nodded.
“You’re right,” he said. “How can we help you?” he asked, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m Lady Snowlark, Commander Stormchaser’s daughter. I was taken captive by a Shadow Warrior, and I need your help.”
“Lady Lark, eh? We heard you were dead.”
“You heard wrong. As you can see, I am very much alive. But please, I need you to get me somewhere safe before he comes looking for me. Your lives could be in danger as well as mine.”
“In danger, eh? I see no-one here but you.”
“You’re not listening,” Lark said in exasperation. “I escaped him. I need your help to get back to Lenora.”
“It’s weeks since Lady Lark was taken,” one of the men said. “You must have suffered quite an ordeal.” He stepped closer and lifted his hand to her cheek; Lark stepped back, but the other men both moved forward, hemming her in.
“Get your hands off me,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Why? I know what you really want,” the man holding her chin said with a smirk.
“No,” she whispered. Behind her, one of the men reached around to grab her breast as he pressed himself against her, and she froze as terror crashed over her. She was no longer a twenty-three-year-old woman but a child, trembling violently as they touched her. She stared mutely at the man still standing before her, and when he bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers, she focused her gaze over his shoulder and stared at the stars. Her blouse ripped open as a hand grabbed her breast painfully – and then the hand was gone, the pressure at her back suddenly disappearing. The man kissing her looked up, and his eyes widened before he was yanked to the side and a dagger thrust into his chest.
“Do you never learn?” a voice growled in her ear as the Drameara stepped into view. “You cannot escape me.” He glanced at the three prone forms on the ground. “Although, maybe this time, you’re glad I found you.”
Lark nodded mutely as the dread she felt slowly abated.
“This is the last place I want to be, princess, but thanks to you, we now need to stay here.”
She took in a shuddering breath. “Why?”
“What do you think will happen when these three miscreants do not return to their unit? The Guard will come here and punish the town for their deaths.”
“They are looking for you, you know.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“They are looking for the Red Lion who escaped them near Riverton.”
“And yet you made no mention of a Red Lion.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard you talking.” Of course he had! He cocked his head, studying her. “Let’s go,” he finally said.
“What are you going to do about the Guard?”
“They won’t stay in the town, but in the morning they’ll come searching for these three, and continue their search for me. When they do, I’ll kill them.”
“Kill them? Why? They will just be looking for their friends!” She glanced at the three dead men with disgust, and quickly looked away.
“And when they don’t find them, what do you think they will do? Leave in peace? No, they’ll make the people of Dundell suffer, including your little friend and his father.”
“No, they wouldn’t!”
“Wake up, princess! The Crimson Guard love to terrorize the Rhymers and are given permission to do so by your father! You’ve seen enough to know that by now.”
She fell silent. All evidence seemed to be pointing to the truth of the Drameara’s statements. She thought of Iron and Crag.
“Not all of them,” she whispered. The Drameara gave her a sympathetic look.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“What about them?” she asked, looking down at the bodies of the three men. “Are you just going to leave them here?”
He looked down at them. Blood still seeped from their still forms, staining the ground. Taking two of the men by the hand, he dragged the corpses around a small wall, then did the same with the third. “They should be safe enough for now,” he said dryly. “I’ll return later and dispose of the bodies.”
He started down the road, pausing to make sure she followed, and she fell into step behind him, clutching her torn blouse closed. She had no idea where they were, but the Drameara did not seem to suffer from any indecision. He led her down a road in silence, turning a corner at the end and proceeding down another. With each step, the shock was wearing off, and a trembling began to take hold. It was not just her personal safety that had been threatened, but all she knew and believed about the Crimson Guard. Try as she might, she could not convince herself that the actions of the three men were unique. Did her own brothers act like that? Did her father?
They turned yet another corner, and lights from an inn shone brightly before them, the same inn she had passed earlier. Lark looked at it with gratitude, stopping when they reached the door, but the Drameara shook his head. “Not here.”
“Please.” Her voice shook slightly, and she swallowed hard. “Just to get a drink.”
He stared at the inn for a moment, then lifted his head to look at the first of the stars beginning to make their light shine. After a moment he heaved a big sigh, then nodded. “Very well,” he said, opening the door. Noise and laughter spilled onto the street as she followed him inside.
Chap
ter 21
The Drameara paused as they crossed the threshold, glancing around the room. He stared at one particular corner, then with a deep breath, headed to the opposite side of the room. Lark frowned at the unfamiliar behavior as she followed him. He took a seat at a table and flicked his finger at the waitress. “Ale and whatever meal you have on offer. And find out if there’s a room available.”
The woman glanced at Lark. “Just one?”
“Aye.” He returned his gaze to Lark, dismissing the waitress, and she left with a sigh of disappointment.
“We shouldn’t share a room,” Lark said wearily. She tried to muster some outrage, but it seemed beyond her.
“You think I’ll take advantage of you, princess? Believe me, if I were interested, I could easily have done so by now.” He leaned forward. “How many nights have we been alone together?”
She looked away, too tired to argue. “Enough, I suppose.”
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “Did those Crimson Guards steal all your fire, princess? Or are you just miserable at the thought of more Cambrians dying?”
She shook her head. “No, I, er …” She fell silent.
“Why didn’t you fight back when they surrounded you? You’re not completely helpless, you know. Or even try to run away? If I hadn’t appeared when I did, you would have been raped and assaulted.”
Into the Shadows Page 17