Shades Of Dark

by Justin Sloan

  It worked this time too, and soon she was dreaming of Donnon. She was walking with him along a river, holding hands. Kia skipped ahead of them, dancing across the water and then jumping into the air before becoming a phoenix, flames trailing her feathers. She flew around them as Donnon and Rhona laughed, full of joy. Kia had just turned back into a girl when shouts pulled Rhona from the dream.

  “What the hell do we have here?” a man growled. A moment later, he shouted in pain. “The whore stabbed me!”

  “It was just a little prick for a little prick,” Estair spat. “And if any of you come closer, you’ll get much worse than that.”

  “Well, show us your big prick, then,” another man’s voice taunted, “and I’ll show you mine.”

  “Shite,” Gordon cursed, jumping up and kicking Alastar awake, since he had apparently passed out.

  Rhona and Alastar drew their swords and followed Gordon out of the ship to see a group of six young men, maybe a year or two younger than herself, surrounding Estair.

  “Back off,” Alastar warned, and he held his sword up, eyes glowing gold.

  “What’s a paladin doing traveling with some witches?” the lead boy asked. They all wore the typical britches and leather jerkins of the paladin protectorates, but this boy had fancy leather boots while the others wore sandals or went barefoot.

  “I told you to back off, and I won’t repeat myself a third time.” Alastar stepped forward, his sword now pointing at the boy’s throat. “This is a big life-choice moment for you.”

  The other men had crude swords, except for one who held a wooden club with nails in it.

  “Did you find something in that threat confusing?” Gordon asked, propping his sword on his shoulder in a very cocky manner. “Because I’d be glad to practice swordplay with a few teenage idiots.”

  “We’re grown men, and this ship and territory are ours,” the leader of the pack said.

  “Tell you what, come and get it!”

  The man glared, then quickly pulled two long knives from sheaths on his back and charged.

  Gordon stepped outside the attack, used his sword to trip the man and open a cut on his leg, and then headbutted him on his way down.

  The man collapsed in a daze and only started shouting about the cut in his leg after a moment.

  “It’s barely a scratch,” Gordon explained when he noticed the glare Rhona was giving him.

  She shook her head, seeing the others tensing now, weapons at the ready.

  “Listen, boys,” she started, stepping up next to Gordon. “I’m going to make this real simple. You all fall under the paladins. My brother here is a paladin, and if you continue this charade, he’ll see you all exiled. Is that what you’d like to accomplish here today?”

  The tallest of the bunch sneered. “That might all be true if we were daft. It’s fairly clear this is Alastar Blackthorne, and you are his sister. Way I see it, we bring you two in for the reward.”

  “There’s a reward?” Alastar asked, voice full of surprise. “Issued by whom?”

  “The High Paladin himself. Labeled you a traitor, a deserter. A magic lover.”

  Alastar nodded, though his eyes showed that he was troubled.

  “Guess what?” Rhona said, coming to the rescue. “It’s true, every bit of it. And yet you’re here, trying to challenge the one man who stood up to the paladins and lived another day? A man who allies himself with powerful magic users? You must be as stupid as you look, though, I gotta say, I can’t imagine how that’d be possible and you would still able to talk.”

  The man’s face turned bright red with anger, and one of the others called him out, saying, “You gonna take that from her?”

  “Aye,” she taunted, stepping forward. She held out a hand and let the shadows converge on her to form a ball of black and purple that swirled around her. “Are you gonna?”

  His eyes went wide with fright and he took a step back, muttering, “Witch. Witch!”

  “Forget this!” one of them yelled, and was the first to run. The others ran after him like a flock of pigeons chased by a child.

  For good measure, she picked up a rock and threw it so it hit the last one in the butt.

  “She got me!” he shouted. “The witch got me in my arse!”

  Estair was the first to start cracking up. The others followed, and soon they were all rolling.

  “Did you see the look on that boy’s face?” Gordon asked. “When you pulled out your magic, I was like ‘that boy is going to fill his britches with shite,’ and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he did.”

  “They won’t be back anytime soon,” Estair said with a chuckle, then seemed to have a thought. “You know, if they were here, then—”

  “The city must not be far,” Alastar finished the thought for her.

  “Could they have been from a village?” Gordon asked. “Another city?”

  Rhona shook her head. “I studied the maps, since there wasn’t much else to do in that castle. I’m fairly certain there aren’t any other villages or cities nearby.”

  Alastar glanced over to the horses. “I’d sooner not stay here to see if they return with a larger force.”

  “And if we could find an actual bed to sleep in, I’d praise the saint myself,” Estair declared.

  “A convert, and all the Order needed to do was provide you a bed.” Alastar chuckled. “It’s settled then.”

  “You’ll have to change your look, though,” Gordon warned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They recognized you. The other paladins we ran into on the road, they know what you look like.” He motioned to the getup and to Alastar’s long, dirty blond hair. “This…it’s too obvious.”

  “I put on this armor to ride into battle. You can’t expect me to simply give it up before the fighting has even started!”

  “It’s that, or have the whole city after us.”

  “Dammit!” Alastar stuck out his jaw. “And what will I wear?”

  “We weren’t prepared for this.” Gordon looked thoughtful. “I’ll have to lead the horses back, or find somewhere to hide out with them until your return. No one would recognize me in the armor, nor ask questions, I imagine, as long as they don’t see the horses.”

  “You want me to wear your nasty stinking plaid?”

  “If I gave you that honor, you’d smell better than you do right now, I can guarantee that.”

  “I have to side with Alastar on the stench,” Estair remarked, leaning into Gordon and giving him a wink as she waved her hand in front of her scrunched nose. “But I have to agree with Gordon that we don’t have much of an option.”

  “My undergarments are staying on,” Alastar stated firmly. “I don’t care what you wear or don’t wear under that kilt.”

  “You want to give up the ease of access the women love so much, be my guest,” Gordon said with a smile as the two women present groaned and rolled their eyes.

  “Please don’t leave me alone with these two and any ease of access,” Rhona begged him.

  Gordon laughed. “You sound like you’re more curious than you let on.”

  She pursed her lips, then retorted, “And you sound like you’re begging for a black eye.”

  “Fair enough, fair enough.” He glanced back to the ship’s remains. “You want to switch clothes in there? Our own private dressing room?”

  Alastar sighed. “It sounds like there’s no better option.”

  “You could switch with me,” Estair offered. “But people might start asking questions when they see their first female paladin.”

  “We should do that, actually,” Rhona told her. “Set a new trend.”

  “As much as I’d prefer your scent over his,” Alastar said, “I think I can get away with the kilt, but not with the dress.”

  “Too bad.” Estair’s hand caressed his neck. “I would’ve loved to have seen that.”

  “That’s a bit out of my comfort zone,” he grumbled, then laughed at her frown.
“And I think you’re joking.”

  “We’ll never know, will we?”

  “Guys, really…stop!” Rhona wasn’t smiling now. “It’s making me sick.”

  Gordon cleared his throat and nodded to the ship. “Can we get this over with? I’m not exactly looking forward to walking around in that getup, but we are in a bit of a time crunch here.”

  Alastar nodded and gave his sister an apologetic shrug before following the man into the ship to switch outfits.

  ***

  Gordon removed the kilt, and Alastar learned first-hand about the kilt question, but swore to never reveal the secret.

  He, at least, would wear his undergarments as promised.

  The two exited, Gordon barely able to walk straight in the armor, and Estair and Rhona both had a good laugh.

  “Help me onto this horse so we can get on with this,” Gordon said, and then cocked his head with an amused glance Alastar’s way. “Oh, and watch how you ride. Don’t want the kilt flying up into your face and showing the world the family jewels.”

  Alastar laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  They were riding again before the sun reached its zenith, not wanting to take any longer than they needed. Alastar would’ve loved a few more hours of sleep, but he had trained with the paladins and encountered much harsher troubles than losing sleep.

  Rhona, however, had heavy eyes, and had a hard time mounting her horse. Alastar couldn’t help but comment on how they had seemed to have switched places in that regard. She answered him with a glare that made him want to crawl off his horse and hide.

  The wind had died down, but was still blowing hard enough to whip her hair around her face, a fact that gave her even more cause to glare when Estair easily mounted her horse and smiled, a plaid ribbon tying her hair back.

  If it was possible to be even more alluring, Estair had done it with the ribbon. It took all his effort to pull his thoughts away from imagining his lips pressed against her neck, just under the ear.

  Soon they were off, and no one mentioned the little skirmish earlier. The attackers hadn’t returned, which was fortunate for them.

  “When we get there, I’m going to trade this horse for a bath,” Rhona declared.

  “I’ll trade mine for a mug of whiskey,” Estair countered.

  “Nobody will be trading horses,” Gordon stated. “I do hope you realize that.”

  Rhona groaned. “Joking, Sheriff. Joking.”

  Gordon considered her for a moment, then asked, “So what’s your story, anyway? You two. The brother and sister.”

  Rhona frowned at the question, then gave Alastar a “go ahead” shrug.

  “You mean where’d we come from, or…?”

  Gordon scoffed. “As if I’d give a rat’s arse. No, why are you two here playing the heroes?”

  “We’re just trying to make the world a better place.”

  “Don’t give me that shite,” Gordon snapped. “You, Rhona—you gave up a good man back there so you could go in search of this magical sword. But why? I mean, I get that it’s to unite the lands, stand up against these sorcerers, but why?”

  She rode in silence for a moment, and Alastar almost thought she wasn’t going to answer.

  “Kia,” she finally said.

  “Kia?” Alastar asked, looking at her.

  “Donnon’s little girl?” Gordon queried with equal bewilderment.

  Rhona nodded. “Before I met her, I was just trying to survive. Then I saw her, and the fight in her… I can’t let that little girl down, and I have to ensure that each and every little girl and boy have the chance to fight for what they believe in. We can’t let that be stifled. And if we can go a bit farther and one day bring peace to the world? To ensure that the battle isn’t even needed, so that children can just play and enjoy their lives? I’d fight for that. I’d die for that, if needed.”

  Alastar bit his lip, trying not to get emotional. As he heard those words from his sister, a warmth crept across his chest, and he wanted to punch the air and ride off to kill all the bad guys.

  Instead, he simply nodded. “Seconded.”

  “Well, all right,” Gordon replied, smiling as if he approved. “All right.”

  “You don’t get off so easily,” Estair told him. “I mean, we all know I’m here because I gotta watch my man and make sure he doesn’t run off with some hussy,” she paused for the laughter she knew would come, “but what’s your excuse? Secret crush on Rhona here? Trying to steal her away from Donnon?”

  Gordon rolled his eyes. “It ain’t her. No offense—”

  “None taken,” Rhona said.

  “And it ain’t you. You’re too crass for my tastes, again, no offense—”

  “Screw that!” Estair barked. “Kick his arse, Alastar.”

  Alastar glanced over from his survey of the path, which he was watching because he thought he might see the shapes of buildings ahead. He was glad to see she was smiling, and winked at her.

  “So what is it then?” Rhona asked.

  Gordon rode in silence for a bit, then responded, “I honestly don’t know. It just…feels like the right thing to do, so I’m doing it.”

  The clippity-clopping of the horses’ hooves was the only sound for a moment, and then Rhona warned, “But you’re going to tell us eventually. We’ll crack you.”

  He laughed. “Deal.”

  Alastar’s attention had returned to the path, and what he was now sure were buildings ahead. “This might be it, ladies and gents.”

  Then others perked up, and Estair rode up to his side, close enough to reach over and take his hand for a minute. Jokingly, she said, “You know I can read minds, right?”

  “A hidden magic?”

  She nodded. “And no, Mister, I’m sorry to say that I don’t think we’ll have time to grab a room for ourselves.”

  Loving her sense of humor, he tried to lean over to kiss her hand, but nearly fell from his horse instead.

  “Whoa there, sweet cheeks.” Gordon laughed at the sight of Alastar flailing his arms to try to regain his balance.

  Estair caught hold of him and steadied him so that he could grab his reins, but he wouldn’t live down the embarrassment of the moment.

  “I know what you’re thinking now, too,” Estair whispered, leaning close enough that only he could hear. “And no, that didn’t make me want you any less.”

  He shook his head, smiling. “You know, when we first met and you were flirting, I thought it was just a way of teasing me about my vows.”

  “Oh, it was,” she agreed. “And then I learned more about you, and the mock-infatuation with your body just kinda evolved into the real thing.”

  “Just my body?”

  “Mostly.” She winked as she rode ahead of him, her cute laugh carrying in the heavy wind.

  “You two are seriously making me sick,” Rhona muttered from not far behind him.

  “I didn’t realize you were listening,” he replied. “I mean, sorry. I’ll stop.”

  She gave him the sisterly look that meant she thought he was being ridiculous. “Why should we both have to be miserable, hmm? Enjoy yourself, just shut the hell up with that stuff when I’m within earshot.”

  “Deal,” he confirmed, and turned to watch the city growing large before them.

  It was bigger than Alastar had expected. He had traveled to local protectorates within the area, but never a coastal city. Even the area around the castle where houses had risen up, it was nothing compared to this. He imagined it was the access to fish for food that brought people out here, even though the lower lands left them more exposed to attackers such as remnant or clans. And being close to the shore meant they would be the first to be attacked. Although, since the Storm Raiders were said to mostly attack from the north or east, he supposed that wasn’t as much of a concern.

  As they drew close, he saw that city walls and tall towers for archers gave them some relief from worry related to attacks from the land.

  “Th
is is where we part ways,” Gordon told them. “If we draw much closer, the guards in the towers will be sure to spot the horses.”

  “If we can see them, can’t they see us?” Estair asked.

  “From this distance, they’ll likely think them cows, if they can see us at all.”

  “And you?” Alastar asked. “What’s your plan? You’ll ride back with four horses and hope nobody attacks? What are the odds of that?”

  Gordon nodded. “I’ll wait as long as I can, to see if you return. Maybe hide them and go into the city to look for food, if needed. But if that’s not viable and food for the horses is running low, I’ll have to return.”

  “If you do, we’ll find our way back,” Rhona assured him.

  With that, they said their farewells, dismounted, took whatever gear they could carry, including their weapons, and continued walking toward the city. But, operating undercover as he was, Alastar realized something like a brick hitting him in the head.

  “We’re idiots!”

  “Speak for yourself, but…why?” Rhona was wearing the plaid dress the clans had given her, Estair her own, and Alastar strode along in his newly-acquired horrible-smelling kilt.

  He gestured at their clothing, then nodded at the city. “Paladin protectorate, us dressed like this? Aye, they might not recognize me as Alastar Blackthorne now, but they’re at war with the clans.”

  Estair hit the palm of her hand against her forehead and said, “Wow!”

  “Huh,” Rhona mused. “I mean, you’re right. We are idiots.”

  “Not completely,” Estair argued. “He thought of it before we reached the city, at least.”

  “So that helps us how?”

  Alastar thought for a moment. “Okay, here are our options. We go naked.”

  “I really don’t want to see your hairy arse,” Rhona replied, “so that’s ruled out.”

  “It’s actually quite nice,” Estair argued, “and not hai—”

  “Don’t need to hear it,” Rhona barked. “Next option.”

  Alastar sighed. “We should’ve beat up those kids earlier and taken their clothes.”

  “But since we didn’t, that’s not an option.” Estair’s face lit up. “Not all of our clothes are plaid. If we just did away with those sections…?”