Caller of Light

by Tj Shaw

  “I never said I was the rider you chased.”

  “Nor did I. But if you were to ride Mira one day, remember it’s too dangerous for an unattended female to ride by herself so far out.” His jaw tightened. “So, promise me.”

  Carina shook her head. “I cannot,” she said with a defiant edge.

  “I could tell King McKay what I saw yesterday. Perhaps he’d know who the rider was.”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth opened before she snapped it shut. She yanked her hand off his arm and spun for the door, but he grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her lithe body against his. She smelled like honeysuckle and the fresh promise of early morning dew. He fought the urge to bury his head in her hair so he could memorize her scent.

  “Promise me,” he ordered in a rougher tone than intended, but he couldn’t leave her knowing she would continue to risk her life. “If you agree, I know you’ll not break your vow.”

  Carina’s face crumpled and tears rimmed her eyes. The tremor in her voice tugged at his resolve.

  “You might as well ask me to stop breathing.”

  His gut twisted. He had hoped she wouldn’t be so resistant. He loosened his grip and wrapped his arms around her slender waist, comforting her against his chest. “You can ride closer to home,” he whispered.

  She raised her head and stared at him with sorrowful eyes. “I would get caught flying closer in. Please, don’t ask this of me.”

  “Father, where is he?” Marissa’s high-pitched voice floated through the heavy door just before she flung it open, rattling the iron-ring accoutrements decorating the outside wood. Carina pulled out of his grasp, but not fast enough.

  Surprise flitted across Marissa’s face an instant before her eyes tunneled into Carina. “What are you doing?”

  “Ahh, King Duncan, there you are.” Regin appeared in the doorway, his wide frame blocking the light inside from spilling into the night.

  Marek noticed Regin’s eyes drift to the cape draped across Carina’s shoulders. Although the smile never left his face, Regin’s eyes darkened. Marek tensed with regret. Not wanting to get Carina into trouble, he reached for the cloak.

  “I was checking on FireStrike when I saw Carina and insisted she take my cape.” Marek stood tall, ignoring the stunned expression on Carina’s face.

  Regin smiled. “That was a kind honor you bestowed. Carina, say thank you and go upstairs.”

  With a noticeable sigh of relief, Carina curtsied and muttered a quiet thank you before turning toward the door. She paused at the threshold. Her inquisitive eyes swept over him. Pinned by the intensity of her gaze, her sadness drilled a hole through his chest. Just as quickly, she released him and disappeared inside, leaving him cold, alone, and in the dark.

  “You too, Marissa, up to bed. King Duncan and I have much to discuss.”

  “Father, please—” Marissa choked on her words when Regin held up his hand.

  “Don’t argue, daughter.”

  Marissa’s bottom lip jutted out. “Yes, Father,” she grumbled and stomped into the house.

  With a sweep of his hand, Regin motioned toward the open door. “Shall we?”

  Marek strode past Regin into the castle. “Aye, we’ve much to discuss.”

  8 – BREAKFAST NEWS

  She surmised he landed on the roof and used a rope to scale down the outside wall to sneak into her room. Exhausted from his midnight escapade, he slept beside her under the thick blanket, his head resting against her shoulder with an arm and leg wrapped over her. His weight comforted her while his body kept her warm.

  Following his example, a cooling breeze crept through the now ajar window, stirring the faded curtains in a soft, billowing wave. Except for his boots, he still wore his jerkin and leggings, and smelled like finely cured leather.

  They were playing a dangerous game cuddling together, but she couldn’t stand the idea of waking him. She stared into his face, his breathing quiet and deliberate. His disheveled hair gave him a boyish appearance, yet he was all man. He looked peaceful, beautiful. With a delicate caress, she laced her fingers through his hair trying to tame those wild curls, but his long, brown eyelashes flew open at her touch. Her breath caught when his emerald eyes latched onto her.

  He smiled seductively, wickedly. Like a large cat, his lean body stretched on the narrow bed and his muscular arms tightened around her, pressing her against the steel wall of his chest as he nuzzled her neck. His breath tickled, fanning heated chills up and down her spine.

  “You should go,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. Her statement lacked conviction because she didn’t want him to leave.

  “Are you sure?” he murmured before kissing the curve of her neck. “Because my plans would require I stay.” He shifted above her and nibbled kisses along her jaw before biting her earlobe.

  She whimpered at his touch. Despite herself, she grabbed his waist, securing his body against hers, the thin fabric of her nightgown sandwiched between them. “Maybe you could stay a little longer.” She moaned as his hand traveled down the outside of her thigh.

  Featherlight kisses brushed over her eyes. His hand cupped her breast and an uncontrollable shudder slammed through her body. She was drowning, losing herself to the sensations crashing around her. She slipped under the surface and relinquished herself to his every touch as he fed a rising ache that throbbed low in her belly.

  “Carina, I’ll never leave you.” Marek’s voice rumbled before he plundered her mouth.

  A rapid knock on the door woke her with a start, her heart hammering in her chest. “What?” she snapped.

  Milly bustled into the room and rushed past her to the small, alder armoire located in the corner, opposite her window. If Milly noticed her flustered state, she blessedly did not say anything as she rifled through the sparse wardrobe.

  “Come dear, you need to get out of bed right now.”

  Carina threw an arm over her face and groaned. “Why are you making such a fuss?”

  “The king has demanded you eat with the family this morning. King Duncan dines as well.” Milly smiled. “This is your chance to say your farewells.”

  Carina yawned. “Marissa could care less if I say good-bye. It’s cold, just let me sleep.”

  “No, silly. I’m not talking about Marissa, but King Duncan.” With her head buried inside the closet, Milly mumbled something unintelligible before pulling out a light blue sundress. “This will have to do.”

  Carina frowned. She had mixed emotions about seeing Marek again. The daring part of her, treasuring the dream she’d just experienced, really wanted to see him. The practical side, however, that remembered the promise he’d wanted her to make last night, thought it best to avoid him. But what she wanted didn’t matter. Father had summoned her, so she had to go. She would just avoid being alone with Marek to ensure he couldn’t force her into any promises.

  She sat up and arched her back with her arms stretched overhead while glancing at the window. A breeze had blown it open because she had forgotten to latch it. Heat flooded her body and a tingly sensation spread through her limbs. She shook her head to clear her mind from the scandalous remnants of her dream and swung her legs off the bed. When her feet touched the floor, she gasped and gathered them back underneath the covers.

  “The floor is freezing,” she hissed. “And that dress you want me to wear is for summer.”

  “Well, aside from work or riding clothes, you’ve nothing befitting a formal meal and I don’t have the time to create another masterpiece.” Milly stubbornly held out the dress. “Now, hurry up so I can brush your hair and get you downstairs.”

  ****

  Carina burst into the dining room to find everyone seated. Morning sunshine streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the grand banquet hall in natural light. There were no shadows or darkened corners where she could hide. No throng of dining revelers that she could lose herself among. Only three other people sat at the end of a large rectangular table covered in white
linen and Father’s best tableware, waiting for her.

  Her throat tightened in embarrassment. She had really hoped to just slide into her chair unnoticed. She grabbed her courage with a forceful hand and stepped into the bright, revealing rays. Marek stood as she entered and grinned, causing her heart to somersault.

  “Lady Carina.”

  His voice tumbled through her like a raging river, which reminded her of the indecent dream she’d just had with the man now seated across the table from her, spurring inappropriate thoughts for the suddenly crowded room and spearheading the blush burning on her cheeks. She hoped no one noticed the telltale sign, but the small smile dancing across Marek’s lips indicated otherwise.

  “My sleepyhead, it took you long enough,” Marissa quipped, acting as if she always dined with them. Carina also noticed Marissa sat beside Marek today instead of at Father’s right hand.

  During the meal the men talked about inconsequential matters as servants brought in silver platters containing sausages, egg casseroles, fruit, breads, and drink. At first, she concentrated on what they said, but ultimately lost focus. Instead, she surreptitiously watched Marek. She noticed the gold ring on his right hand with his signet on it. The way his strong hands worked the knife and fork, his enticing lips as he spoke, and his intoxicating voice as it flowed around her. His voice penetrated to her core, prompting the same dull ache from her dream.

  “Excellent meal, Regin. Thank you. Now, I must prepare for our departure.”

  Although Carina had disappeared into her musings, her distraction didn’t prevent a wash of remorse from rolling over her at his statement.

  “Yes, I understand,” Regin replied, sounding uncomfortable.

  “Don’t worry about me, King Marek. I spent most of last night packing and should be ready within an hour.” Marissa beamed, pleased with what she obviously considered a huge accomplishment.

  Marek kicked his chair out from underneath him and stood, looking irritated. He stared at Regin in an expectant manner, but Regin seemed very interested in the liquid in his goblet.

  “What’s wrong?” Marissa asked.

  “King McKay,” Marek said in a crisp tone.

  All eyes focused on the chubby man at the end of the table as he fidgeted in his chair like a schoolboy. After a long sigh, Regin appeared resigned to the consequences he was about to set in motion. “Marissa, my dear one, Marek’s intentions have changed.”

  “To what, Father?” Marissa asked. A slight twitch at the corner of her mouth cracked her otherwise unwavering smile.

  “I said his intentions have changed.”

  Carina cringed. Father was never good at explaining delicate matters and attempts at subtlety usually resulted in frustration.

  “Oh.” Marissa’s simple two-letter word voiced a volume of unspoken concern. She glanced down at her plate before asking, “King Marek, am I to follow you in a few days then?”

  “Oh, Criton’s breath,” Regin muttered. “He’s decided to take a mistress. You’re going nowhere.”

  Marissa sucked a long, ragged gasp down her throat as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach. Her hands flew to her chest in a protective gesture while the color drained from her face. Carina waited for the tantrum, but to her surprise, Marissa composed herself.

  In a small voice, Marissa whispered, “Well, since a mistress is beneath my station, I imagine he’d have to choose another.”

  “Yes, of course dear. I’ll contact King Villar Remy who has also asked for the opportunity to court you.” Regin returned to his breakfast with the gusto of a starving man.

  Carina stared at Marissa as she picked at her food. For someone who had never been denied anything in her life, Marissa seemed to be handling the news extremely well. Carina nibbled on a buttery roll and mulled over what had just happened. Although a little dismayed she’d have to endure Marissa’s continued jibes and insults, Carina thought it a worthwhile consequence knowing Marissa would not be accompanying Marek.

  She was so intent on watching Marissa that she didn’t notice Marek staring at her until the hair on the back of her neck rose. She turned to find him. He stood in a shaft of sunshine. The radiant beam bathed him in brightness as if the Mother Source had chosen him as the perfect example of raw, masculine beauty. The grey flecks in his eyes glimmered in a secretive, knowing way that warmed her body and scared her at the same time. Her heart pounded as she stared at him in helpless amazement, wondering why he hadn’t left to prepare for his journey home.

  As if she had spoken, Father sputtered with a mouth full of food. “Carina, you best hurry.”

  “What?” Carina’s and Marissa’s voices echoed in unison, motivating Regin to glance up from his plate. What chore did father expect of her?

  With a wave from the hand holding a half-eaten croissant, Regin motioned to Carina. “You will join Marek as his mistress.”

  Everything in the room slowed…and…stood… still. Carina gazed at Marek.

  A small smile played across his lips and the deepened creases around his eyes indicated his amusement.

  After a moment of silence, Marissa screeched and slammed her fists on the table before storming from the room.

  At last, the tantrum Carina had been waiting for, but her thoughts turned inward when she realized she’d stopped breathing. She tried to calm her sputtering heart with a deep inhale of air, but could only manage little gasps.

  His mistress? How could this be? She had resigned herself to spending her life at Brookshire, striving to please a father who didn’t love her.

  “Carina!”

  Father’s shout catapulted the room back into focus, but she viewed her surroundings with confused, unseeing eyes.

  “I told you to get moving!”

  “Yes, Father,” she croaked. Using the table for support, she stood on shaky legs.

  After an awkward curtsy, she fled the room and the blinding light that had just revealed her future in stark clarity.

  9 – LIES and DECEIT

  Marissa stomped through the flower garden trying to subdue the hatred blistering through her veins. But even in her angered state, she stepped with care to avoid brushing against a thorny bush and snagging the beautiful yellow, satin dress she had made especially for King Duncan. With a low cut front and tight waist, it didn’t leave much to the imagination, which she had hoped would entice him. Instead, he’d barely noticed her, acting like Carina was the only one in the dining hall in that silly dress. Then of all insults, to endure complete shame when he chose Carina over her pure breeding.

  She followed the little stone path through the rose bushes. Normally, their perfumed scent comforted her, but today she didn’t appreciate their aroma. No one, not even Father, could humiliate her and get away with it. By now, all the servants must know of her disgrace. If she caught any of them laughing at her, she’d make their miserable lives…well…more miserable.

  Across the lawn, she spotted Marek striding toward the barn where his Criton waited. He wore a short sleeve, rust colored shirt that emphasized his muscular arms. Even from the distance, she could see the definition in his biceps, which fueled her desire to chase after him. She could convince him that Carina’s misfortune in life was no reason to choose a mixed blood over her.

  With a frustrated exhale, she caressed the soft petals of a perfect, red rose. She controlled the fate of the flower cupped in her palm, the velvet petals so delicate and frail. In a calculated, slow movement, she fisted her hand around the fragile bud and watched the crushed petals drift to the ground.

  She could make him realize his mistake, but Marissa McKay didn’t chase after anyone. She was the one to be sought after, not the other way around. As Marek disappeared into the barn, she had the uncontrollable urge to kick something, anything to ease the anger broiling inside her. No one denied her without facing the consequences.

  A sudden, bright thought burned a searing path through the fury in her mind. She giggled as the plan blossomed, its simplicity makin
g the idea brilliant. Her anger dissipated, leaving her body on a quiet exhale. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d do. She smoothed the front of her dress and strolled toward the guest barn in search of King Duncan so she could offer him some advice on dear sister’s behalf.

  10 – The END of a BEGINNING

  Carina sat alone, already packed. She didn’t have many clothes and few personal items of importance aside from her mother’s necklace. Her sparse room containing only a bed, dresser, and armoire had been her sanctuary for most of her life. She stared at the bare walls and regretted never making it more intimate. The small space appeared as if a guest had lived within its confines for all these years, but maybe that’s what she’d always been.

  She walked to the room’s best feature, a tiny window overlooking the training grounds. A group of young soldiers were sparring under Master Sabian Dupree’s watchful eye. Their grunts and groans reverberated off the castle walls while the slash and thrust of their swords caught flashes of sunlight.

  She skimmed over the bare chests of the grappling men until her eyes found the aged master trainer. Although not a tall man, Master Dupree’s demeanor exuded the confidence of a fierce fighter. And the scar running diagonally from the middle of his forehead across his right eye toward his ear only enhanced his intimidating appearance, ensuring obedience from his young students.

  She remembered the day she first met Master Dupree. She’d just watched a group of trainees and snuck into the weapons bunker to play with a small dirk. Since girls were not allowed to fight, she thought she could practice the maneuvers hidden from prying eyes.

  She’d been so focused on moving her body as Master Dupree had instructed that she didn’t notice him watching from a darkened corner until she turned to lunge and almost drove her blade into his stomach. Scared for being caught and horrified at almost plunging a knife into someone’s belly, she dropped the dirk.

  Master Dupree’s grim look of disapproval as the weapon clattered across the stone floor still haunted her. She tried to fumble out an apology before begging for forgiveness with the promise to never touch a weapon again, but his threatening glare smothered her voice.