Flame Thrower

by Alice Wade

  Flame Thrower

  By

  Alice Wade

  Eternal Press

  A division of Damnation Books, LLC.

  P.O. Box 3931

  Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998

  www.eternalpress.biz

  Flame Thrower

  by Alice Wade

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-672-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-673-8

  Cover art by: Dawné Dominique

  Edited by: Naomi Clark

  Copyright 2012 Alice Wade

  Printed in the United States of America

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  1st North American, Australian and UK Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This is for my husband who has been my champion from the first penned word. You’re my greatest hero.

  A special thanks to the amazing support from Elaine Schmeck for being my vigilant second set of eyes. Without your feedback and friendly proofing, my stories would not be complete.

  Chapter One

  The wind outside the hunting lodge blew violently. It rustled the tall pine trees surrounding the modest hunting cabin tucked deep in the hills within the Kingdom of Yorath. The sound was soothing but caused a constant hissing to echo around the small valley where the lodge was nestled.

  King Ryan snorted as he parted the curtains and looked outside. There was a moment of regret for the men he’d banished from sleeping indoors, but when the reason for that banishment whimpered, his regret vanished. His attention drifted towards the fire where the woman rested and he watched her settle back into sleep. Comforted that all was well, he resumed his survey of the terrain beyond the cabin.

  Outside, the chill bite of fall was in the air. The crisp wind blew in off the plains to volley around these tiny valleys, dropping the temperature even lower. This was Ryan’s favorite time of the year in Yorath. His lands sat between two other kingdoms; each more radical than the other.

  To the north sat Folkyn, a desert realm filled with prejudice and suspicion of anything magical. There, people were secluded, distrusting and full of hate for anything they couldn’t define. They only knew what they were allowed to know, which wasn’t much for King Irfan was insane. He felt that by censoring the information, he controlled his people. In actuality, it was intellectual suffocation.

  To the south sat Lysban. It was a dramatic realm perched on the cliffs overlooking the turbulent sea and ruled by King Basil. It was filled with the awesome power of mages, fostering a people who were open minded and trusting. Knowledge and the sharing of knowledge were highly regarded there. Lysban was the home of the Mage Order, the ruling power over magic in all three realms. Or lack of magic as was the case in Folkyn. The Mage Order controlled the mystical, giving audience to anyone who petitioned for magical services. Lysban also was the home of the University, training those in the magical art so it could be shared.

  Then there was Yorath, his homeland. It was a wonderful place nestled in the rolling grassy plains and a perfect mix of the two worlds. Neither dependent on magic nor ignorant either.

  Here, it wasn’t uncommon for people to be born with innate magical skill. Some chose to foster the ability, becoming healers and trade merchants. Yet the majority let their ability fade with age, never embracing the true power of their innate gift. However the choice was theirs.

  In comparison with Lysban, the moment a child showed any magic ability, the Order intervened. That child would be rushed off and raised under the Order’s watchful eye. Their training came at the University which was run by the Order as a means to hone the magic sharp. By ensuring all who were born with magic were trained, they could be used as a tool for either knowledge or power. Many of their highest ranking mages served in King Basil’s court as Advisors or traveled to smaller regions to assist with the Lords that controlled there.

  Ryan had no qualm with the Order. When he was a child, he spent a considerable amount of time in Lysban. He returned as a young adult when he needed to master the magic flowing through his veins; yet he never, under any circumstance, allowed any of the mages to learn his true strength. Instead, he chose to keep that knowledge to himself and learned only what he needed to be a right and trusting ruler. He wasn’t under their power nor was he beholden to their laws, so he kept certain things secret. At the time, he was the Crown Prince of Yorath; therefore, he attended the University out of courtesy. The moment he gleaned all there was to learn, he left immediately and returned to his beloved plains.

  Thinking on Folkyn and the tyranny of King Irfan caused Ryan to snort in disgust. It was a land filled with bitter, suspicious folk. Where he respected Irfan as a peer, he would never respect him as a leader. He fostered the distrust of magic and punished those that showed any affinity for the awe-inspiring power. For countless rulers prior to him, magic and the knowledge of magic was not allowed, thus making it nonexistent within their borders. Over time, the innate ability faded away because it was never allowed to be developed.

  Ryan knew King Irfan viewed his Yorath neighbor with disdain and loathing, mostly related to a devastating war that earned Ryan his nickname. Ryan was named Flame Thrower, or Wizard King, depending on who was telling the tale. In that war, it was when Irfan really learned what magic could do in the right hands, further fostering his fear. Even after all these years, he remained terrified to the point that he punished any who didn’t follow his word.

  He whispered both names and laughed. Out of all the names he was known for, he much preferred Wizard King over Flame Thrower, but he wasn’t about to challenge Irfan or his people to make any corrections.

  She moaned again and Ryan’s attention diverted once more. Earlier today, while returning from a particularly uneventful boar hunt, Ryan spotted something in the bushes. The contrast of creamy white skin against the brown of the landscape caught his attention, forcing his horse to an immediate halt. To his utter surprise, it was a naked woman, abused and discarded. She lay in a heap, unconscious and sprawled among the brambles and shrubbery.

  He felt anger before he’d even turned her over. Yet the moment he did, his heart near burst in absolute fury that someone could do such a thing to the stunningly beautiful woman. After checking if she still lived, he looked around quickly, scanning the surrounding area for the reason she lay among the brush as if she were dead. Even in her wasted state, she was a jewel among the dying grasses and dead shrubbery. She stood out because her creamy white skin and black hair screamed that she didn’t belong in this bleak fall landscape.

  A few matted strands of her hair were plastered against her face, so he’d been forced to brush them aside and felt his emotions swell again. He felt a piece of him become bewitched by her; utterly transfixed by her face as she lay still.

  With extreme care, Ryan lifted her into his arms. He cradled her close to his chest while he mounted his large horse, ignoring the question that sat unspoken on his Captain’s lips. He too wondered the same thing but had no answer. When Ryan turned his horse towards the cabin, he speculated who the hell this woman was.

  Hours later, he looked down upon her sleeping form still undecided on what he was going to do.

  He had a brief conversation with his Captain on the topic, near arguing the
point that he wasn’t about to abandon her. That was the course of action Wallace wanted him to take, finding a village to drop her in and be on their way. Ryan understood his concern, but there was something about her that pulled on his heart. Ryan found he treated her with extreme care rather than wondering if this could be some trap.

  Ryan originally wanted to send a rider to the palace in order to dispatch messengers to the countryside to discover if any of their people were missing. However, after taking a good look at her, he decided against it. Her hands were unmarred as if she’d never done a hard day’s work in her life. That alone was his only indication she wasn’t from the surrounding farms. It piqued his curiosity further, for Ryan honestly was at a loss for what to do next. His only other option was to find a place for her in his lands somewhere. Which meant keeping her at his side until a suitable home could be found.

  The wind outside picked up to a fierce howl, forcing cold air through cracks and holes in the walls of the room. The draft caused King Ryan to shiver. He was a tall man, built with a broad chest and strong arms, but being cold was one thing he hated most. Regardless if this was his favorite time of year, he always bundled up to stay warm. His gaze drifted from the window to the sleeping woman, frowning. If he felt the chill, then she did as well, and he felt a need to tend to that matter immediately.

  When the door suddenly opened, it allowed a powerful gust to enter. A frigid blast of air blew into the cabin causing Ryan to break away from his thoughts.

  Captain Wallace stood framed in the doorway, surveying the scene before closing the door behind him. “Sir, just wanted to report that guards are posted and the men are settled for the night,” he stated.

  “Excellent,” Ryan replied without moving.

  “Sir, exactly what are you thinking of doing?” Wallace asked, his eyes darting the sleeping form sprawled before the massive stone fireplace in the back part of the sparsely decorated room.

  That question caused a frown to crease Ryan’s face before he answered. With a quick glance at the woman, he sighed, “I don’t know. I’m still undecided.”

  “Well, at least you have an excuse to why you quit the hunt early. You could blame it on fate. My wife would agree. You know she’d fine some illogical reason why this stranger holds your fascination.”

  Ryan chuckled, running his fingers through his short hair. “Right, June would agree to something like that, wouldn’t she? All whimsical and wistful, I should say. All of it is nonsense. Fate is for dreamers and a notion I just don’t follow.”

  “Whatever you say, but I tend to disagree this time. As much as I disagree with your decision to keep her with us, there is more to her appearance than meets the eye.” Wallace watched closely. He distrusted this situation and tried to no avail to get Ryan to see reason. This could very well be a trap. Anyone trained could see that, but Ryan was enamored with the young woman. Because of that, Wallace leaned towards the whimsical. There wasn’t any other explanation for his liege and friend’s behavior. Even now, as he looked between the two, one sleeping and one watchful, he observed Ryan slowly fall in love. Whimsical was the only thing, for this woman had not even uttered her first words. June was probably right in her ideals-love at first sight did exist.

  Even so, Wallace looked at the sleeping form again. He noticed Ryan bundled her in his thick wool cloak and laid her out near the roaring fire. She curled into a tight ball near the warmth and it appeared to Wallace that she was comfortable. For now. Tomorrow they needed to find a new home for her and that was the right thing to do. If only he could convince Ryan of that.

  “Is there anything else? Once I’m convinced she is comfortable, I’ll retire myself,” Ryan stated. The tone in his voice was a clear dismissal.

  “No, nothing else. Sleep well, Sir.” Wallace dipped his head and moved towards the door, casting one last glance in the barren room. Even before he took his first step, Ryan moved towards the fire, lost in his concern for the woman once more. There wasn’t a thing Wallace could do at the moment, so he’d just watch and voice his concerns if he saw anything out of the ordinary.

  Ryan waited until he heard the door close behind his Captain. Alone once more, he looked down upon her relaxed face and sighed. There was something about her that pulled at his emotions and his heart. He still couldn’t believe someone would do this type of damage and then just discard her along the side of the road. If the person responsible tried to reclaim her, he knew he’d never let her return. In all honesty, he knew he’d never release her if her utter care couldn’t be proven. After this ordeal, she deserved to be treated as a queen and Ryan vowed to make sure that happened.

  While he was in the act of feeding more pine wood to the flames to fill the room with more warmth, the heavenly creature shifted and curled in a ball near the hearth. Her whimper caught him by surprise and halted his motion. Fascinated by this interruption, Ryan watched while her mind held her captive to whatever she saw in her dream.

  His arms reached out but halted inches from her twitching body. He was moments away from pulling her into his embrace for comfort, but he didn’t know how she’d respond to a strange man holding her if she awoke. Still, he couldn’t deny the pull towards her and his unnerving attraction to the dark haired sprite. She’d stolen his soul, branding his heart with pain each time she moaned.

  She made another such sound and he watched when a single tear fell down her cheek. He had enough. Ryan quickly sat near the fire and pulled her gently into his arms, cradling her on his lap. He balanced her so that her head rested against his strong chest. His hands caressed her hair while he whispered soothing words to pacify her. “Shhh, you’re all right,” he crooned. “You’re safe.”

  His touch seemed to trigger unwanted memories, because she began to struggle in his grasp. Her weak whimpers turned more panicked and she thrashed to get away from his hand.

  “I won’t bring you harm. You’re safe,” he said again, this time with confusion. At the sound of his voice, he watched her immediately settle down. Amazed that within moments her whimpers ceased and the weight of her head pressed more peacefully against his chest.

  Ryan watched her cautiously. “Who are you, Milady?” he whispered. Ryan asked this same question hundreds of times since finding her. He vowed that once he discovered who did this, they would surely pay for the trauma they caused her. No woman should be mistreated and that alone infuriated him.

  * * * *

  Captain Wallace watched the entire scene unfold from the window. He cracked the door and poked his head inside and the sound didn’t even draw Ryan’s attention. “Sir?”

  King Ryan remained enamored with the woman curled in his lap and didn’t look up. “What do you want?”

  “Is all well?” Wallace asked, carefully entering the cabin.

  King Ryan exhaled, resisting the urge to stroke the woman’s cheek. “I disturbed her.”

  The look on his face when he finally looked up concerned Wallace to his core. Ryan’s face was etched with a dangerous emotional pain; he knew that look. It meant trouble and caused Wallace to squint.

  Ryan continued. “Whoever did this is going to be punished severely. Look at her, she’s caught in some demented dream that is holding her hostage to the memory of torture they inflicted upon her body. Just my touch alone sent her into a panic.” Ryan could feel that his anger simmered just under the surface. He took a calming breath to leash it.

  “Sir, we don’t know who she is. She could be dangerous for all you know and here you sit with her on your lap. I’m not comfortable with this situation, my liege. The more logical approach would be to post guards and let them watch her.”

  A dark scowl shaped King Ryan’s features when he heard Wallace’s words. “Absolutely not. One look at this woman and you can easily see she is not dangerous. I’ll not permit her to be guarded like some vile criminal,” he growled. “I won’t be the cause of more anguish.”

  In resignation, Wallace leaned against the door frame. He’d see
n his liege like this before and knew there was no way to reason logic with him in this situation. “Very well, Sir.”

  “Wallace?” King Ryan halted his Captain just as he turned to leave. “Send a rider to the nearest village and bring a healer.”

  That got his Captain’s attention. King Ryan was renowned for his healing abilities, so the fact he asked for a village healer was odd. “Sir?”

  “She doesn’t appear to be from Yorath, or Lysban for that matter. That leaves Folkyn. I don’t know how she’ll react to my magic, so it’s safer and more considerate to bring a less threatening healer from the village. Not to mention, I know Edda and she’s more capable to be dealing with the situation once she wakes. I’m not sure she’ll take kindly to a man treating her wounds.”

  Wallace nodded his head but didn’t cease his severe scrutiny of the situation. He watched Ryan look back to the creature in his arms, finally pinpointing the cause of his concern. Ryan oozed with emotions he’d not seen on his liege’s face in uncounted years–compassion, tenderness…love. All dangerous when they didn’t know who she was.

  What he saw matched the depth of emotion that he heard layered in Ryan’s voice. “Aye, Sir. I’ll send someone immediately.” Wallace delivered a half bow and slipped from the cabin, leaving his liege alone holding the broken woman who slept cradled in the security of his arms. In his heart he knew this was wrong, but King Ryan claimed her and there wasn’t anything Wallace could do about it.

  Once more alone, Ryan looked back down and a sad smile curved his lips. She looked so gentle, so tiny laying there. How could she be anything other than a scared woman who was pushed well beyond her limits? She wasn’t a vile criminal and Ryan would not treat her so. She slowly crept into his heart and he knew the longer he held her, the more she claimed of his soul.

  Ryan realized that from the moment he laid eyes on her, he was infatuated. As time crept by, he knew that it was turning to obsession. She bewitched him with each breath she took and each beat of her heart. His sight traced the long strands of her hair that were in a wild array around her face. With a gentle touch, he swept them aside, reveling in the sensation of his fingers caressing her cheek in comfort.