The Hungering Saga Complete

by Heath Pfaff

  I heard footsteps in the hallway beyond my door, my sensitive ears detecting the smooth and nearly silent motion of a Knight of Ethan, or one of the black cloaks. I guessed it would be Ethaniel, returning to yet again press the issue of taking care of the business of the dead Brigade member. I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable knock as the footsteps stopped. The knock did not come. Silence fell, even to my sensitive hearing.

  Whoever had moved along the hallway had halted outside of my door. I sat up in bed, moving slowly. I crept from my comfortable perch, my hand going to my sword hilt. I didn't know what lay beyond my closed door, but I could think of no reason for a normal guest not to announce themselves immediately. It could be another black cloak rebel, come to put an end to me. I'd only heard one, though, and that seemed folly. The black cloaks were strong, but no single one of them was an even match for me. I was too fast and too strong.

  A quiet knock sounded at the door, and some of the tension fled from me. Someone with dark deeds in mind probably wouldn't bother to knock before entering. I took a few steps back from the door, and let my sword drop down beside my desk. I felt foolish for having clutched it so firmly a moment before and suddenly wanted nothing to do with it.

  "Enter." I made my voice crisp and clear. The door opened, hesitantly at first, and then normally, as the figure in the doorway caught sight of me.

  "Laouna," I greeted her, bowing my head, as formal a gesture as I could manage. At that moment there were a thousand things I wanted to say, and a thousand other things I wished to do, expressions of love and pleasure that could not be conveyed within the confines of such brittle things as words, but I was afraid to say or do anything that might frighten her away.

  "Lowin," She replied, returning the greeting, her eyes left mine and traveled the room. "You got rid of my bed." Her voice was sad.

  "I threw a tantrum and destroyed the furniture." I said, embarrassed to have to explain my own immaturity, my own inability to control my emotions. She was supposed to be the one of the two of us whose mind was still that of a child, yet it was I who had most acted the part. "You had moved out, so when I replaced the furniture, I only took what I needed for myself."

  "Oh. . ." She answered, her voice soft, almost fragile.

  "I don't know if it matters to you, but I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm sorry for chasing you away." I said, words I should have brought to her long before that moment. I wondered what good they might do. They needed to be said, one way or the other. I watched her, hoping that she might take them to heart.

  Laouna bowed her head, her hair obscuring her face. "I just wanted you to miss me. I left when you yelled at me, moved all of my stuff into Snow's room, and then you were hurt by the sea monster. I felt so guilty for being mad at you. I stayed by your side while you recovered, but when you woke up I couldn't bring myself to face you. I ran back to Snow's room, thinking I would come to you later that night, but then. . ." Her words raced out, and I began to form the bigger picture.

  "Snow saw me destroying my room and everything in it, and you thought better of coming back." The realization was painful. I had indeed been directly responsible for Malice's long absence, but not for the reason I had originally believed. My fury had driven her away. "It was probably for the better." I said. I could hear the echo of pain in my own voice.

  "Snow said I should be careful of you, that she'd seen something in your eyes that terrified her. She wouldn't let me go back that night, and then it was like you were gone from the ship. I was scared for you, and Snow was . . . is, scared of you." Laouna took a step towards me, and my eyes shifted to follow her motion. I felt a trail of moisture trace a line down my face. Seeing her so close, I ached only to be closer.

  ". . . but I can see now." She took another step towards me, so close I could smell that scent that was only hers, a subtle aged wood scent, imparted by a pack of aged wood chips she kept in the bottom of her pack with her clothes. She lifted her face, and her eyes came level with my own. They were so green, so beautiful and deep, I could have fallen into them. They were wet, like green mirrors reflecting my own image back at me. "You're still Lowin." She closed the last of the distance between us, her arms wrapping around me so tightly I feared she might crack my ribs. I put my arm around her as well. A pressure eased in my chest, and I sighed as if, for the first time in so long, I could finally release the terrible tension that had been twisted tight around my heart.

  "I love you, Laouna." I whispered the words into her ear, and I heard her lips echo the sentiment back to me. Our lips met, warm, salty with tears, and we fed of each other's love in a moment of pristine serenity. I felt her pull me, towards her, towards the bed that lay behind her. I drew back, but she pulled more firmly, her strength denying me a retreat. She seemed so slight, and so graceful, yet in her was a phenomenal strength.

  "I'm ready for this." She whispered, a blush lighting her cheeks even as a ready passion filled her eyes. "I want this, Lowin. I've seen you and Snow, back at the castle. I'd follow you some nights, after you thought you'd sneaked away. I saw you on the practice yard, and I watched through her open door once. I wasn't ready then, but I'm ready now. I want you to do to me what you've done to her."

  ". . . but you don't remember . . . you're still so . . ." I tried to rationalize, tried to resist the temptation, that burning need I had for the woman I loved.

  "I'm not a child. I know I don't remember a lot, and I know you think you're protecting me. I'm older than Snow, though. I know you love me, but I want you to do more than kiss me. I want to be together with you." Her cheeks grew even warmer, until I could feel the flush of her skin even while her face wasn't pressed against mine. "I want to be your lover." She whispered, and then we were falling onto the bed. She was beneath me, having pulled me over on top of her.

  "I can feel how much you want this. I want it too. Please, Lowin." She whispered the words in my ear as she ran a soft trail of kisses along my neck. My desire was throbbing, a desperate burn in my anatomy that yearned so strongly for release. Malice grabbed at the collar of her shirt and tore the fabric away, her impossibly sharp claws shredding the cloth as though it were the sheerest linen. Her breasts, large and inviting, lay before me, pert in the relative chill of my quarters. I had felt them against me in the night, but it had been years since I'd seen Malice's generous endowments in all their glory. She was the perfect image of feminine beauty, her red hair framing her pale skin, rounded features peaked in pink temptation."

  "Touch me." She breathed, and it was such an invitation that I could do naught but accept. I lay my lips upon flesh I had not dared touch in so long, and felt the tremble of eager anticipation against my skin. Passion took over from there. Clothes were torn aside to make way for our twin desires. Foreplay was a concept for another time. Her hips ground against mine, until I tore the fabric that bound me away and took her with a fierceness born of supreme desire.

  Her femininity enveloped me, taking me in, and wrapping me tightly in the cusp of her inner most being. I thrust as deeply into her as I could, as though I might find some way of becoming more in tune with her if only I could pierce her more completely. I gave into her with a fire that only her body could ever hope to quench. That first time in so long was not slow, not gentle, but a thing of passion and necessity. I forgot my worries, and wrapped myself in her body, and she shook against me, quaking with her own passions. When we'd finished, we started again, more slowly, more restrained, but with equal love and passion.

  I had never made love with such intensity before. That night, I found peace.

  "If you hurt her, Lowin, I'll come after you." Snow said. It had been a few days since Laouna had moved back into my room. I had not seen the white furred Knight of Ethan until she confronted me in the hall that day. There was fear in her eyes, but other emotions as well. Longing. Loneliness. Frustration. I felt sorry for her in that moment, but I still couldn't look at her without seeing betrayal.

  "Good. If I ever hurt her, I
want you to kill me, Snow." I replied, the words almost as much a surprise to me as they seemed to be to her. I realized after I'd said them that I meant them.

  "Lowin you . . ." Snow began, but I interrupted her.

  "If I ever hurt Laouna, kill me. If I ever reach that point, it will be necessary to end my life. She won't be able to do it, but you can. So promise me that you'll do what is necessary, should I ever lose control of myself." I spoke with conviction. If anyone could defeat me sword to sword, it would have to be Snow or Malice, and Malice would not. If I ever lost control of myself, she who once betrayed me would need to be the one to end the danger I posed.

  She didn't answer.

  "I know you'll do what's right." I told her, because I believed she would. She felt something for Malice, possibly love, but at least a sister's bond. I didn't know if she felt anything for me. I had believed she might love me for a time, but her betrayal had made me doubt that. I was laying a heavy burden on her, but she had brought it upon herself. Her hasty words had been all the invitation I'd needed to lay such a heavy task at her feet. Perhaps it was unkind of me, and perhaps I shouldn't have given such a trust to one who had betrayed me before, but I was ever one for rash decisions, and there was no going back.

  "I will do what is right." She said, her voice quiet, the vehemence of her earlier statement gone.

  I stepped around her, leaving her stunned in the hallway, but just as I brushed past, I heard her speak.

  "Am I destined to always be just out of reach . . ." Her words were quiet. I don't think I was supposed to hear them, and I pretended that I did not. They clung to my mind though, and I would remember them many times over the next few years.

  "The Brigade is acting strangely." Ethaniel declared, as he came up beside me on a bright and clear morning nearly a year and seven months after we'd first begun our journey. We'd been at sea so long that it was difficult to remember what it was like to walk on a surface that did not move and surge beneath your feet. The ship was still sailing strong, and we'd not suffered any further losses of the wind, though we had come close on a few occasions. The end of our journey, I knew, was growing close.

  "I've noticed." I answered the accusation in the voice of the Knight of many eyes, not meeting his gaze. For nearly a week the black cloaks had been acting out of character. I had not breached the topic with Liet yet, but I knew I would have to soon. Ethaniel was one I knew would not let the matter drop, especially after the incident of the murdered woman. That had been difficult enough to smooth over on its own. Ethaniel had watched them closely ever since. He was not inclined to believe that they had acted in the best interests of the ship, and that such a situation would not arise again. I had spoken with Liet privately on the matter and made him swear that no further executions would be carried out without allowing the accused party to stand some form of trial. Liet had agreed, had even seemed to approve of my decision. Recently though, some dynamic had changed. The black cloaks had a secret, something they were hiding from the rest of the crew, and that made me nervous. We were so close to our destination.

  "What do you plan on doing?" Ethaniel pressed, as was his way. I rarely ever saw the old Knight unless there was a matter he believed I should be taking care of. He hid away in his rooms and rarely came out. His behavior had been strange and growing stranger by the day.

  "I will speak with Liet." I said, turning away from the ocean and facing the horned and winged Knight who had served as the head of the Knights of Ethan for so long. "What of you, Ethaniel? You have not been yourself." The conversation had been a long time coming, but I knew I needed to have it. If the black cloaks must take accountability for their behavior, Ethan too needed to explain himself.

  Ethaniel shrugged his wings and cocked his head to one side.

  "This has been a long trip. The endless sea is wearing on me." He explained after a moment. "It is Liet and the others of his ilk you should be concerning yourself with. They are not to be trusted." I felt the exact moment that he intentionally shifted the subject away from himself. I saw it coming before he'd even let fly the first word of the subject change. There was a subtle shift in his posture, an acute change in his breathing, difficult to discern, but obvious for those with sensitive hearing, and an intent eye. I didn't doubt the conviction of his words, but it wasn't his purpose that rang ill with me, it was the evasion I felt being pushed before me. The Black Patch Brigade weren't the only ones keeping secrets.

  "There is little that can be done other to watch and wait, Ethaniel. I have faith that Liet will bring me anything that I need to know. He is still a good man." I gave the same argument that I had used many times before, and I anticipated the reply before it even came. I did not, however, anticipate the acidity with which Ethaniel declared it, and his sudden explosive rise in hostility.

  "They are poison! Liet is one of them. Dirty magic, evil creatures. Your trust in him will be your downfall, Noble. You'll doom us all." The Knight of four eyes nearly spat the words, his wings coming unfurled for a moment. A shadow fell over me, cast by his imposing figure, and his eyes burned with a terrible rage. I found myself taking a step backward, my stance going wide, and my body preparing for attack. My hand reached for the draw on my shoulder harness that would bring my weapon within easy reach. I gave it a tug.

  Ethaniel stepped back, his expression cooling. "I've warned you many times." He said, and I felt the tension leave the air, though I did not return my sword to its tucked away position. It was the first time in a long while I'd held it at the ready. Ethaniel's black eyes were on my hand which rested easily upon my weapon's hilt. The other set of eyes; I couldn't be certain what they watched.

  "You're mistaken in who you should be listening to. Liet is one of them, and that's where his interests and loyalties lie. You'll make us all pay for your foolish trust." The old Knight pushed, his words still bitter and full of anger, but his outward fury calmed.

  "Trust is a difficult concept, Ethan." I used the shortened version of his name, a form of it I rarely ever addressed him with. I tended to always give the other Knight the honor of his full name when addressing him, but this time I held that back. The issue of the black cloaks suddenly seemed minuscule in the face of the four-eyed Knight. He had almost attacked me. Over the years it had come close many times, but in that moment, we had been closer to crossing weapons than ever before. "Trust must be earned, and once earned; one must keep working to maintain it. I do not trust the black cloaks, but I do not trust you either, and right now you're giving me even less reason to put any faith in your judgment."

  "That's not a good idea, Noble. If you can't trust your advisor, then who can you trust?" Ethaniel growled under his breath, and I didn't like the tone of his voice. It was condescending. There was mockery behind those words.

  "This conversation is over." I made my voice flat and authoritative before turning my back on the other Knight. It was perhaps a foolish thing to do, but I no longer sensed the spark of violence in the other man. I heard his footsteps moving away, and felt a wave of relief pass over me. Ethaniel was dangerous. He was not the man he'd once been. Or had I just never seen him for the man he'd always been? Either way, I needed to keep a closer watch on the oldest Knight.

  I stood for a few more minutes, watching the endless horizon, and thought about returning to bed to see if Laouna was up yet. I heard footsteps moving up behind me. I turned, expecting to see Ethaniel again, or maybe just one of the crew passing on business, but instead I came face to face with Liet.

  "We should talk." He said, his voice as stoic as ever, but I sensed a weight behind his words that hinted at something important. I wondered if he had been listening in on my conversation with Ethan, or if his appearance was merely coincidence. It didn't really matter either way, but I couldn't shake the feeling that his appearance was uncanny.

  "Yes, we should." I answered. I would not be returning to Laouna's side any time soon. A feeling of foreboding took hold of me. Death was in the air.


  We found a quiet place on deck, a place far enough from prying ears that all other sounds would be washed away by the churn of the sea against the hull. Liet, for all that he generally showed no emotion, looked worried. There were subtle signals, things I only noticed through months of studying the behavior of the black cloaks. Liet's motions were sharp, almost hostile in their military precision, and his eyes were alert and ever moving. His posture was rigid to the point of extremity beyond a natural fighter's stance.

  Liet scanned the area around us multiple times, making certain that no one was within hearing range of us, and even then he looked uneasy. His hand clutched the hilt of his sword, and for a moment my heart pounded like a hammer in my chest, and I felt my body automatically getting ready to thrust itself into the altered state of speed best suited to combat. My old friend seemed to notice my tension, and he released the handle of his weapon. I forced myself to calm again.