by L. Danvers
“Lightning just struck outside your tent. You could have been killed.”
“Oh, look,” she said, turning to Lillian, who was trembling by her side. “Our captor has grown some affection for us. You see how concerned he is about our wellbeing?”
There was another flash, and Daphne caught him rolling his eyes, the blue in them swirling like a hurricane. “The only concern I have is for my coin purse. You’re no good to me if you’re dead.”
With that, he left, and at the next flash, she decided to go after him.
“What are you doing?” Lillian asked.
Daphne told her to come along. Lillian stood with a grunt.
Daphne hugged a blanket around her body, hoping it would offer some protection from the downpour outside. Despite her boots suctioning to the muddy ground beneath her, Daphne made her way to Gregory’s tent. The inside was lit by an assortment of candles clustered at the center of a wooden table. Gregory sat at the end, his nose buried between the pages of a book.
“Oh, look,” Daphne said to Lillian as she followed her through the flap door. “He reads, too.”
“Not all of us are as fortunate as you are, my princess,” he said with disgust. “For most of us, the closest we ever get to fairy tales is through reading about them.”
Daphne couldn’t contain her laughter. “Lucky?” She sat across from him and laced her fingers. “While I admit I am more privileged than most, I assure you my life is no fairy tale. Do you consider it fortunate to have absolutely no say over your own life or what you do with it? When, not if, you marry? Look at you. You may be an outlaw, but at least you have the freedom to live life on your own terms. Me? I’m a prisoner of the castle. Of tradition.”
“Oh my,” he said, slamming the book shut. “Poor little old you—the well-dressed, well-educated, well-fed princess. You have my deepest sympathies. What a tough life it is that you lead.”
Daphne’s mouth hung open as she took his words in.
No one had ever spoken to her like that before.
She wanted to snap back. To defend herself. But she needed to play her cards right if she had any hope of her new plan working.
She closed her eyes for a moment as she exhaled. Then she said, “Have you sent word to the castle yet?”
“Have you lost your mind? Did you not see that storm out there? It wouldn’t do me any good to send a messenger if he’d die before making it out of the silver forest.”
Daphne rested her clasped hands on the table and leaned toward him. “How much do you wish to be paid?”
“A thousand silver coins,” he replied. He watched her, expecting some sort of reaction, but that amount wasn’t as much to her as it was to him.
“I have a proposal for you.”
His eyes narrowed as he leaned back against his chair, arms crossed. “Go on.”
“I’ll make it two thousand if you escort us past Proelium.”
“Past Proelium?” His forehead wrinkled. “You mean to the Perdeus Ruins? Isn’t that where the Battle of Gargantem was fought?”
She nodded.
“And why would a princess and her maidservant want to go to a battle site?”
“For my brother, Prince Phillip. He is on a quest to recover the ruby lost there by King Cedric, our great-grandfather. I believe Phillip is in danger. Or, at least, he will be. That’s why Lillian and I left the castle.”
“So you could save him?” Gregory snorted.
Daphne looked back to Lillian, who was standing by the tent door. She gave a nod of encouragement, and with that, Daphne returned her focus to Gregory. She folded her arms and leaned back against her chair. “Do you want the money or not?”
He pressed his fingers to his lips as he considered the offer, then he extended his hand across the table. “You have a deal.” He pumped her fist, squeezing her hand so tight that her knuckles felt like they were going to crack.
There was a sudden change in his demeanor, and his mouth widened into a smile. “Well, then,” he said, wandering to the corner of the tent and rummaging through his loot. “Since you two are no longer my prisoners, would you care to play a game of cards?”
Daphne wasn’t sure what to say. She was thrown off by this shift in his personality. She looked to Lillian, silently pleading for her to say something.
“Um,” Lillian said warily. “I suppose that would be alright.”
Gregory shuffled the deck and motioned for Lillian to sit. He distributed the stack with great speed, and the girls each took their time to examine the cards they had been dealt.
Daphne chose her best two and reached to set them on the table, but before she had the chance to place them there, Gregory slammed down a pair of kings and pulled the pile of cards in toward his chest.
Over the pounding rain, the sound of laughter grew louder. Merek’s lanky arm opened the tent flap while Thomas—his messy brown hair now plastered to his forehead thanks to the storm—stumbled inside.
The smiles disappeared from their faces upon seeing the three of them together, and they were replaced by furrowed eyebrows and darting glances.
Sensing their confusion, Gregory said, “We struck a deal. The princess here has agreed to give us two thousand silver coins in exchange for us escorting her and her maidservant... Uh, what was your name?”
“Lillian.”
“Right. In exchange for us escorting her and Lillian safely past Proelium.”
“Us?” Thomas and Merek both asked.
“Yes, the three of us. You had better sober up and pack your things, boys. We leave at daybreak.”
Chapter Six
It was dawn. The gray clouds had dissipated and the canvas of the sky was once again splashed with blue and stroked with gentle wisps of white. Moisture clung to the morning air from the previous night’s storm.
The five of them were just about to depart when a man as big as Borin, but with a much shorter, darker beard, called after them.
“Where are you running off to?”
“God, Baudwin,” Gregory said, clutching his chest as he turned to face him. Daphne recognized the name from the night before. He had complained more than once about how small the boar they were eating was and had boasted about how he could have caught one much larger. The other men had grumbled at this remark, like it was the kind of thing they were used to hearing from him.
“Where are you going?” he asked again. The way his lip curled when he spoke made Daphne uneasy. She wrapped her hand around her sword’s grip as she listened to the exchange between him and Gregory.
“Beyond Proelium.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re paying us to,” Gregory said. It was true, of course, but for some reason, his words stung. “You like having clothes on your back and food in your belly, don’t you?”
Baudwin frowned. His fists were clenched, and Daphne was baffled as to why he was so upset about this arrangement. What did it matter to him where they were going? She wanted to ask him herself, but Gregory turned and walked the other way, and the others followed, so she did as well. Even still, she could feel Baudwin’s penetrating stare, and every once in a while she looked over her shoulder to see if he was watching. He was. But they soon took a turn, and she was able to relax.
Lillian walked beside her. She hadn’t noticed Baudwin watching them. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts.
Daphne had never seen her look as sad as she did then. There were heavy bags under her eyes, and she kept drawing her lower lip between her teeth.
When Daphne had asked her to join her, she believed she was doing the right thing by saving Lillian from the king’s wrath. But now that she thought about it, Daphne realized her friend had left her home, her duties and her family behind all because she asked her to.
Daphne caught Lillian wiping a tear from her cheek when she thought no one was looking. She wished she hadn’t seen it, but she had.
Her stomach was in knots.
She wanted to apologize right t
hen and there, but she refrained, fearing she would embarrass Lillian by drawing attention to the fact that she was crying.
Daphne had to make it up to her. She wasn’t sure how, or when, but she had to find a way to show Lillian her gratitude.
She didn’t realize how long they had been wandering in silence until Merek spoke. His voice was easy, and while she had yet to hear him say anything particularly amusing, his mannerisms reminded her of that of a court jester. “So, Gregory, what are we going to do with two thousand coins?”
Thomas interjected before Gregory could open his mouth. “I say we buy weapons.” He pulled a short-bladed dagger from his sheath, the wooden handle of which bore a depiction of a dragon. The way the light of the morning sun bounced off the blade made it look as if flames spewed from the monster’s mouth. “I like my daggers and all, but I’ve always wanted to try an ax. There’s just something about the thought of swinging a big hunk of metal through the air.”
“You and your obsession with weaponry,” Merek said. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
“What would you do with the money then?” he asked Merek.
“I think we should buy some land of our own—away from the silver forest. The three of us could live simple lives. No more stealing or scrounging. We could be ordinary again.”
Gregory shot him a scowl. “And what of the other men? Should we leave them to fend for themselves in the woods while we enjoy having food in our bellies and roofs over our heads?”
“No, I guess not,” Merek said with a shrug.
Daphne laughed to herself at the ridiculousness of what she was hearing. These were criminals. She found it ironic that Gregory would think loyalty so important a virtue. It was such an honorable notion for a lawless man.
She couldn’t decide what to make of the three of them.
Gregory, Thomas and Merek weren’t good at being outlaws. They didn’t fit the description.
She thought of how well they had fed her and Lillian. And she thought of Gregory reading—not the pastime she would have expected of a fugitive.
Baudwin, on the other hand, was exactly what she had pictured when she’d heard tales of the inhabitants of the silver forest. Without realizing it, her face twisted thinking about him.
As amusing as it was to hear them debate what to do with their earnings, Daphne couldn’t have cared less what they did with the money. All she cared about was finding Phillip and getting him back to the castle alive.
However, it occurred to her as she stepped over a fallen branch that she still had a problem waiting for her when she returned to the castle: choosing a suitor.
She hated that the traditions of Vires made the thought of marriage fill her with dread. She couldn’t imagine marrying someone she didn’t love.
But her musings came to an immediate halt upon hearing an all-too-familiar sound.
She went still and listened. “Lillian, there it is again.”
For the briefest of moments, the silver forest fell quiet. There were no birds chirping, no vermin burrowing, no wind howling.
Silence had never been so haunting.
It was short-lived, though. Her ears were soon met by a snarl so terrifying it made her skin crawl.
Gregory’s mouth set in a hard line as he listened, and recognition dawned on his face. “The atrocitas,” he said with certainty. “We must hurry.”
His pace quickened as he led the group, and soon they were chasing after him. Daphne’s sword was heavy as it beat against her side. She held its grip to try to steady it. As scared as she was, she was thankful for the years she’d spent practicing sword fighting with Phillip. She’d brought Light of Vengeance as added protection, of course, but she never thought she’d have to use it.
“What is an atro... atroc...?” Lillian stuttered as they hurried after the boys.
“The atrocitas.” Thomas corrected her. “Atrocitas means pain. For years we thought they were legend and nothing more. The stories go all the way back to the time of The Darkness. The beasts are said to have the swift speed and sharp teeth of wolverines, the size and strength of bears and possess the tortured souls of men who haven’t found their peace in death.”
“That’s horrifying,” Daphne said.
“You don’t know horrifying,” Thomas replied. The way he said it gave her chills. “Wait until you see one of them up close.”
“That’s enough, Thomas,” Gregory urged. “No need to make them more frightened.”
“No need? You must not have seen one of these beasts for yourself. Otherwise you wouldn’t take my warning so lightly.”
“I said that’s enough.”
But Lillian wasn’t satisfied. She wanted to know more. Her eyes were even wider than usual when she looked to Thomas and asked, “Have you seen one?”
There was another snarl, and it took everything Daphne had not to scream as they ran between the trees, which stuck up from the ground like skeletal arms from a grave.
When the sound faded, Thomas answered Lillian, saying he had indeed seen one before.
“Tell us about it,” she said, and Thomas looked just as startled by her request as Daphne was.
He took a deep breath, then he began his tale. “I saw one once when I was just a boy. I was about thirteen, maybe. My mother had always warned my brother Roderick and me about playing in the woods. She used to tell us there was dark magic hidden in the silver forest. Of course, we didn't believe her, but we should have.”
His story came to a pause as they waded through a flowing stream. Frigid water splashed against them while they leapt from rock to rock. Merek, who was one step ahead of Daphne, turned and offered her his hand. The rock he stood on was smoother than the others, and he was afraid she might slip. Daphne was glad she took him up on the offer, because as soon as her foot met the surface, she lost her footing, but he held on tight and steadied her.
Upon reaching the other end of the stream, Thomas cleared his throat and continued telling the group about his encounter with the beast. “Anyway, when we were teenagers, my brother and I, stupid as we were, decided we were going to sneak off together. We were playing a little game. He was going to hide somewhere, and I had to go find him. I crouched down on the ground and closed my eyes. I waited. When it had been long enough, I opened my eyes and called out for him. He was nowhere in sight, which was the point, of course. So, I went looking for him. I made my way through the trees as I searched for my brother. And then I heard it. He let out such a pain-stricken screech. I'll never get the sound out of my head.” Thomas cupped his hands around his ears, wincing as if he could still hear his brother’s scream after all these years.
Daphne wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer, and she felt bad for asking, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Did the atrocitas kill your brother?”
“No, but it did take his arm. A knight happened to be traveling through the area when Roderick was attacked, and he came to the rescue.”
They froze.
There was another snarl.
This one was much louder than the ones before. Daphne feared the atrocitas was getting close.
Daphne and Lillian inched closer to Gregory, who was leading the group, and they were relieved to have Thomas and Merek on either side of them.
Merek retrieved an arrow from his quiver and readied his bow.
Thomas twirled the wooden handle of his blade in his palm, and his ears perked up as he turned his head from side to side.
Daphne and Lillian looked at each other and nodded. They drew their swords.
But Lillian was struggling. She had often complained about how heavy swords were...
Gregory raised his left hand, signaling for them to be still. The snarl grew louder as it echoed off the spindle-like trees.
A beast emerged from the woods. Daphne was taken aback by the size of its fangs, which were as white as snow, save for the streaks of blood dripping from them.
It padded closer to the group, revealing its massiv
e body as it stepped out into the sunlight, making its silver fur shimmer like the stars.
The atrocitas was as big as a carriage, and Daphne cringed at the thought of being crushed under one of its four meaty legs.
There was a crunch.
Another beast padded toward them. Daphne ran her thumb over the rubies cradled in the grip of Light of Vengeance. She had fought Phillip countless times, and she had practiced with Lillian before, but she had never been in real danger. Not like this.
There was another snarl from the final atrocitas. This one was smaller than the others, but it was still bigger than any animal Daphne had ever seen. She tried to stop imagining her bones being snapped in half by its blood-drenched fangs.
Her heart ached for whatever animal’s blood dripped from them.
She watched as the beasts crept closer. She understood why it was said they possessed the tortured souls of men. There was pain in those amber eyes. They didn’t match the ferocity of the rest of their beastly appearance. It was as if they were telling her they had no control over what they were about to do.
Daphne clenched her teeth until they ached, preparing herself to either kill or be killed by one of these beautiful, terrible beings.
One of Merek’s arrows whizzed through the air and pierced the smallest one, but the atrocitas paid it no attention. It tucked its head and padded toward him, stalking its prey. Its haunches reared back and sprang forward with incredible force. It flew through the air. Merek shot at it again, but he missed.
He shouted for everyone to take cover, and Daphne knelt as the atrocitas leapt over the group and went rolling into a tree.
Merek turned and shot it again, this time between the eyes.
It let out a whimper, and the animal, though dead, was at peace.
Meanwhile, Thomas had chucked two daggers at the first atrocitas they’d seen. He jumped out of the way when the beast rushed toward him, gnashing its fangs. It snarled as it turned back to face him, sending dirt flying as it padded the ground. It rushed to Thomas again, and when it tried to pounce on top of him, Thomas drove his blade into its heart.
It moaned and collapsed on its side, slipping into the silence of death.