Caller of Light

by Tj Shaw

  She peered at her dangling feet as she swooshed them around, watching tiny waves radiate out and away from her legs. The lake floor dropped off quickly, but she could still see the sandy bottom. She leaned back and stared at the cloudless sky. Her rock lay in full view of the hot sun. If only she could jump into the lake then let the warming rays dry her as she stretched out on her rock.

  A rebellious smile crept across her lips. She glanced around and listened. Aside from tanagers and the incessant buzzing from insects, she heard nothing. No voices, no feet crunching along the gravel path, nothing.

  On impulse, she unbuttoned her blouse and threw it down before sliding out of her pants to stand in her white undergarments. After one last fleeting look, she jumped into the waist deep water.

  She gasped as the chilly water sloshed on her sensitive belly. Ignoring an uneasy feeling encouraging her to get out, she dunked her head and swam into deeper water. She floated on her back and spread her arms wide, closing her eyes to savor the contradicting sensations as the heat from the sun warmed her face and the lake chilled her body. Glorious.

  The water lapped around her in a soothing caress until her instincts jarred her into action. She dove and swam back to shore, popping her head out with a splash. Careful to reach with her unhurt shoulder, she grabbed a low hanging branch and hauled herself up. Flopping her feet back into the lake, she lay on her back and let the sun’s rays dry the droplets from her skin. The prickly sensation as the water evaporated comforted her and she fell asleep to the sounds of nature.

  ****

  A snort from a Criton jerked Carina awake. Her pulse pounded. She glanced around disoriented until she remembered her location. From the sun hanging low on the horizon and her dry clothes, she had slept much longer than intended. At the sound of approaching voices, panic crawled up her spine because of her half-dressed condition. She shimmied into her pants and threw on her shirt before stuffing her feet into dirty socks and cramming them into her shoes. Without a moment to spare, she stumbled out of the bushes in time to witness Sampson, Damon, and two other soldiers land their Critons in the small openings between the trees.

  Sampson jumped off Reeza and stormed toward her with cold, black eyes and flared nostrils. From his agitated demeanor, she resisted the urge to back away. He surveyed her from head to toe and his face reddened in anger. He bunched his fists. For an instant, she thought he might hit her.

  She raised her hands in a calming gesture. “I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

  Sampson’s jaw clenched. “Where is he?”

  Her brows furrowed. She glanced at the other men for answers, but their eyes remained averted. Aside from Sampson, only Damon had dismounted while the other two fidgeted on their Critons.

  She shook her head. “As far as I know no one else is here. Who are you looking for?”

  Sampson turned to the men. “Find him,” he ordered before his eyes latched onto her like a gyrfalcon zeroing in on its prey. His rage pounded her in waves of hostile emotion. The two soldiers took to the air without hesitation, but Damon lingered.

  “Sir, would you like me to stay?”

  Sampson whirled on Damon. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Why? Because you don’t think I can handle this woman?”

  Damon stood at attention, his eyes staring into the empty space just beyond his captain. “You’re more than capable. I was simply offering to protect your back while you question her.”

  Sampson shook his head. “That’s not necessary. The coward is trying to escape. I need your eyes in the sky. Now go,” he muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  Damon’s eyes flickered her way before he jumped onto DarkStar.

  Fear flooded her veins when Damon leapt into the air. She considered running, but Sampson would interpret her action as a confession to some perceived wrongdoing. Her best defense was to tell the truth. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong, except maybe oversleep.

  She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “Look around, there’s no one here. I would never betray Marek, and I’m shocked you think I would.” She had hoped that the mention of Marek’s name would somehow soothe Sampson’s anger, but instead, she’d just tossed kindling onto a blazing inferno.

  With two giant steps, he stood in front of her. Although only a few inches taller, his fury and adrenaline-filled body made him seem like a giant. His eyes roved down her body and lingered. Self-conscious, she followed his gaze. In her haste to get dressed, she’d missed a button on her blouse. An empty eyelet lay exposed at the bottom, evidence of her guilt. She inhaled a breath, fighting the rising panic threatening to close her airway. When she looked up, her heart stumbled. Sampson’s face was twisted into a snarl, the frenzied look of a crazed man.

  Now, she backed away. Blood filled her cheeks, but blushing wouldn’t help her. “Sampson, I went for a swim…nothing more.” She tried to infuse confidence in her voice, but even she could hear the quaver in her words.

  Sampson pursued her. “Marek should’ve chosen the other one once he discovered you were tainted.”

  She backpedaled, keeping space between them. “Sampson, please. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Icy tendrils crept through her mind, igniting inner alarms and warning her of the terrible danger surrounding her. Sampson’s eyes glazed and his face slackened as his thoughts tunneled inward. Nausea tied her stomach in knots from a growing awareness that she would soon experience the brunt of what he was reliving if she didn’t find a way out of her situation.

  “I’ve been with no one. I assure you, I’m pure.”

  “But once again, he wouldn’t listen to me.” Sampson slammed a white-knuckle fist against his chest, not hearing a word she’d spoken.

  Her mind spun in a wild attempt to process Sampson’s words. Who would’ve accused her? Why hadn’t Marek talked to her about these allegations? And how in Haden was she going to escape this raving madman?

  She continued her shuffling, backward steps. Once she reached the water, she would either have to defend herself or try to get away by jumping into the lake. “Sampson, this is a horrible misunderstanding. Let’s go find Marek and figure things out.”

  Sampson frowned, and then nodded. She stopped retreating, grateful her pleading had breached his enraged mind. Clasping her hands together to control their shaking, she wondered if Marek knew about Sampson’s temper.

  Sampson turned, but with a quick shift of his body, whirled and cuffed her ear.

  Her head exploded as she catapulted to the ground. She landed on her back with a thud, splashing into the shallow water. Waves of pain throbbed inside her head, but the cold water kept her from passing out. She lay momentarily paralyzed from the force of the blow as the water supported her head while the rest of her body settled on the shallow bottom floor.

  Sampson stood over her, watching and waiting. His face contorted into a mask of contempt. He glowered at her from the shore with fisted hands as his body shifted into a bladed stance, ready to pounce. Even with the pain bouncing around like a ball inside her, she could identify the telltale signs screaming for her to get up. On the ground at his feet, she was too vulnerable and at his mercy.

  Scraping together her strength, she pushed up into a seated position and forced down the bile rising in her throat when the throbbing intensified to the point she almost fainted.

  “Where is your man now?” Sampson sneered, glancing around the small clearing. “Evidently, he has no honor either.”

  When the pounding in her head diminished to a dull heartbeat, she rolled onto her knees and dug her fingers into the gritty sand before gathering herself. Once standing on unsteady legs, she thanked the Gods for her minor accomplishment.

  Staying quiet had never been a character trait, even when she knew opening her mouth could have devastating results. Someone had accused her of being impure and Sampson had just attacked her because of those falsehoods. Her wrath would have no bounds when she discovered who was spreading such lie
s. But first she had to save herself from the devil.

  She swiped the hair out of her face and straightened to her full height. In a low voice, she whispered, “Marek entrusted you with my safety.” She raised her chin, letting anger fuel her words. “And my honor is still intact because unlike you, I haven’t betrayed him.”

  Sampson grimaced. “You Haden spawn,” he condemned, the vehemence in his voice blasting a bone-chilling tremor down her spine.

  When he raised his fist to strike her, she lunged and rammed her knee in his groin. He howled in pain and collapsed, drawing his legs into his stomach in a fetal position.

  She sidestepped, but underestimated his tenacity when he grabbed and twisted her foot, knocking her to the ground. She spun onto her back intent on kicking him, but he jumped on top of her before she could react.

  His oppressive weight threatened to crush the air from her lungs. She lost all sense, morphing into a wild animal, punching his face and screaming. He pinned one of her hands over her head, but not before she clawed long, bloody scratches down his cheek. When he finally had her restrained, he paused to catch his breath, panting against her neck.

  She clenched her teeth, struggling to control her anger. “Get…off…me.”

  “Not until you confess your taint.” Satisfaction bubbled in his throat.

  “I’m not going to confess to something that isn’t true.”

  “Very well. I’ll find out for myself.”

  The menace in his voice terrified her. She stared at the man sprawled on top of her. Hatred burned in his black eyes, but something else flickered inside them, a sinister darkness that scared her more than his anger as a growing hardness pressed against her belly.

  No! She was not going to let this happen. When Sampson tried to adjust his grip, she channeled all her strength to wrench a hand loose and jabbed her thumb in his eye.

  His agonized scream pierced the air as he released her to cradle his gouged eye. She pushed him off, but he jerked her back to the ground, trapping her with his body. No matter how hard she fought, his large hand pinned her arms overhead.

  “You’ll pay for your disrespect,” he hissed, spittle flying from his lips like a rabid dugar.

  He groped her left breast. Panic consumed her. She cried out. Fighting with a new sense of urgency, she bucked and wriggled beneath him until she yanked a hand free and punched his face, throwing all her energy into her blows.

  Sampson recaptured her hand and while crouched on top of her, lifted her upper body off the ground. She stared into the eyes of an insane man, his delirium transforming him into a monster—the beast nightmares were made of.

  “You will obey me!” he shrieked, striking her hard across the face. Pain reverberated through her head. Her vision blurred and blood filled her mouth.

  “Now, confess and end this nonsense.” He pulled her close, his face inches from hers. From the lust burning in his eyes, she knew that even if she did confess he’d take her anyway. So, she could withdraw into herself as he took her body or continue to fight. Her stomach churned at the thought of relinquishing herself, but she was mentally and physically beaten, and struggling only excited him more.

  She summoned her courage and used it as a buffer to build an insurmountable wall inside herself where she could hide from the injustice about to happen. But before retreating, she glared into Sampson’s shiny eyes, gleaming with excitement. She spoke with an unshakable resolve. “I’ll never confess to that of which I’m innocent.” She punctuated her statement by spitting blood in his face.

  Narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw were her only warning signs before Sampson struck her so hard that the force of his blow slammed her body to the ground. He emphasized his disapproval by punching her in the ribs—two short, quick stabbing jabs. The breath rushed from her lungs and her world went dark.

  ****

  Carina woke to Sampson’s bumbling hands trying to unbutton her pants. Her shirt had been pushed up to expose her belly. She wanted to shove him off, but her strength was gone. She turned her head to look at her arm. It floated in the water, drifting back and forth in the ripples Sampson created as he attempted to slide her pants off her hips.

  The late afternoon sun pounded her with a merciless intensity. Her dry, cracked lips burned from the thirst seizing her body. Surrounded by water, yet she was unable to wet her lips and rinse the blood from her mouth. She watched her arm with a disconnected, slow motion objectivity, twisting her hand so that her palm faced up. She could move her fingers, yet her arm wouldn’t do her bidding.

  A cloud floated overhead, blocking the unforgiving sun. She closed her eyes, relishing the short reprieve. To her surprise, the cloud spoke.

  “Sir, we found no one.”

  Sampson growled. “Keep looking. He must be out there.”

  The cloud shuddered back and forth. She opened her eyes to the awed realization that her cloud was Damon shaking his head. Damon’s back to the sun threw his face in shadow.

  “DarkStar is an excellent tracker. If he didn’t find anyone, there’s no one to find.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to prove her taint. Now leave us.”

  Damon’s feet stayed fixed in place.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Sampson bristled, his breath hot on her bare stomach.

  Damon spoke in a neutral voice. “Aye, but you’ll need a witness to prove she’s impure when she doesn’t bleed. I’ll stand as witness.”

  Sampson’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “You’ve made a claim, but Carina has insisted otherwise. When such a discrepancy occurs, there must be a witness.” Damon shrugged. “Although I’m curious King Duncan isn’t the one determining validity, I guess he gave you that authority as his captain.”

  Carina listened with a strange, detached wonder. She never knew such matters involved a witness. If she was not in such pain, she might have found the whole concept fascinating…or funny. She wasn’t sure how to react.

  Sampson cursed under his breath before grabbing her breasts and pushing off her, his last demeaning act to inflict. She hardly reacted to the additional discomfort as it blurred with the ache already pulsing throughout her body.

  Sampson stood over her and adjusted himself. He seemed uncomfortable with the bulge in his pants. The toe of his boot pressed against her side. She waited for the kick that would break her ribs. He cocked his foot, but hesitated and glanced at Damon, his heavy-soled shoe dangling in midair. With an exasperated grunt, he slammed his foot to the ground splashing muddy water in her face. “Bring her,” he ordered, stomping onto shore—the torturer leaving the tortured behind.

  Sampson disappeared from view. She lay motionless as the water caressed her battered body, struggling to figure out how this day had gone so awry. Why had Marek chosen her? As a mixed blood any heir she produced would be considered a half-breed. So, why? Why would Marek bring another mixed child into the world to be treated with such disdain?

  She had forgotten about Damon until he knelt beside her. No longer shielding her from the sun, she squinted at the glaring brightness. He reached for her. “We must go. Let me help you.”

  She shrank away from his hand, turning from him. Her entire body throbbed and the pounding in her head made it difficult to think. But even in her foggy state, she would not let anyone touch her. Somehow, she crawled onto her hands and knees and paused in the water to catch her breath. She waited until the hammering in her head faded before undertaking one of the hardest tasks she’d ever asked of herself—standing.

  It wasn’t pretty. There was no grace involved as she pushed her hands off the ground to rest on her knees before forcing one foot at a time underneath her. She swayed precariously as the blood rushed from her head leaving her lightheaded, the delicate balance with the ground and gravity in jeopardy. Damon moved to catch her, but she steadied herself without his support.

  She walked stiff-legged out of the water, each step slow and calculated as she concentrated on placing one foot i
n front of the other. Damon matched her snail pace, providing himself as a crutch if necessary.

  They walked past the small beach that had been so appealing just a short while ago and onto the path where Sampson and the other two waited. From somewhere inside her, she dredged up the nerve to meet Sampson’s gaze. His bitter stare dismissed her like a bug. Her eyes traveled to the soldiers who squirmed in their saddles and noticed everything around them to avoid looking at her.

  Damon mounted DarkStar then slid behind the saddle and removed his foot from the stirrup. With an open hand, he leaned forward offering assistance. Walking the short distance to the Critons had consumed all her strength, so climbing onto DarkStar without help seemed insurmountable. She placed her foot in the stirrup and accepted Damon’s hand as he lifted her beat-up body into the saddle.

  Although amazed by accomplishing such an impossible feat, she impressed herself further by keeping her back ramrod straight to avoid touching Damon. And except for occasionally brushing against her with his arm as he guided DarkStar into the air, Damon honored her silent request by maintaining his distance as they made the short jump back to Stirrlan where her fate awaited.

  29 – BETRAYAL

  Carina spotted Marek as they descended. He was leaning against one of the stone pillars that fortified the front entrance to the castle and staring at the setting sun. Damon landed in the rectangular courtyard inside the protective walls just as Marek pushed away from the column and strode her way. A broad, lopsided grin spread across his face as the diminishing sunlight danced in his bright eyes.

  He wore a white shirt with an elaborate cross-stitched pattern on the open collar and tan pants. A broadsword was strapped around his waist and a single dirk rested in a sling across his chest, opposite his sword. He looked breathtaking with his hair almost dry from bathing and having just shaved. His appearance made Carina acutely aware of her pitiful state.

  “Ah, good, where did you find…” Marek’s smile faded. “By the Gods. Carina, what happened?” His arms stretched up for her.