Tiny in comparison to the dragons across the sea, the Forest Dragon that halted in front of Riordan and Vashti was still quite large. Despite her size, the Forest Dragon could blend into the surrounding trees. A person or prey could walk past and never see her. She was taller than the largest of draft horses and her body twice as long. Her long, sinewy neck and tail added to her length. Her fine scales were the color of summer leaves and the crest of feathers on her head was the shade of emeralds. Large, intelligent black eyes gazed at the two people and the dragon’s raptor-like beaked mouth clicked together once. She shook out her large, feathered wings and settled them once more, folding them tightly over her back.
“Greetings, Riordan,” the dragon said in a low, growling voice. “It has been some time since last I saw you.”
Riordan rose and placed a hand affectionately on the dragon’s beak. “Yes, great Zara, it has. I have not been able to spend time in the forest as I once did.”
“The renegade Wilders have made it most difficult I expect,” the dragon replied. “I have seen them and the disruptions they cause.” Zara turned her head to Vashti who had also risen to her feet. “I have answered your summons, sorceress. Why did you disturb my slumber?”
“I have been sent by Nimbus to aid the Werren men who came to these lands. They were captured by the Wilders and have been ill treated,” Vashti explained.
“They must be men of importance for one such as Nimbus to worry over them,” the dragon mused.
Riordan quickly filled Zara in on what he had seen.
The dragon ticked a claw against the ground as she listened. “Let us plan their rescue then my friends. I would much like to have Nimbus beholden to me,” she said and gave a low laugh.
Cearan lay awake long after the elves had fallen into drunken slumbers. His arms were cramping after being tied over his head and his shoulder joints protested at the tension of the rope. His face stung where he had been hit with the staff, the cut finally clotting over. Cearan wagered he would have another scar, this one running from the corner of his eye to his temple. The elf he had caught with his spur would have one as well. Cearan had nearly cut his throat with the vicious jab.
He was sore from various bruises from the beating he had received and he was pretty sure one of his ribs was cracked.
Cearan looked over at Merrick. Blood trickled from the panther kin’s mouth down his chin and Cearan knew that Merrick was as bruised as he was. One of Merrick’s eyes was swollen completely closed and a finger on one of his hands lay at an odd angle.
Merrick met his gaze and nodded his head to let Cearan know that, despite his wounds, he was alright. Both men knew come morning, in all likelihood they would be killed, probably tortured to death.
Merrick sat between Cearan and the cage. He turned his head so that Cearan could look inside. The cage was enchanted with a spell that shifted a lion kin into their lion form and took away the ability to change back.
Lexin lay within his lion’s body on its side, and a broken staff jutting out of a rear leg. Blood pooled under the cage. He bled from several other wounds. The elves had been cruel in their torment of him. It had not helped that he had fought to free himself for a long while, much to the enjoyment of their captors.
Cearan cursed silently at the sight of his brother. He could see that Lexin was becoming weak from loss of blood. He laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. He gave a futile jerk on his bonds and then tried to sleep. He was not going to give up his life without a fight.
Cearan dozed off and on, exhausted in mind and body. He woke with a start as dawn was crept into the clearing. He looked over at Merrick and saw that he was awake as well. By the startled look in the other man’s eyes, Cearan knew that whatever had awoken him had Merrick’s attention.
Elves were stirring as well, confusion evident among them.
The noise that woke the Werren men sounded again and Cearan looked up in surprise. He had heard that noise before when Nimbus flew over Oralia. He had also heard it at Hopa when Nimbus and Azure had flown over the hill where Lexin and Drace had hidden horse soldiers. It was a booming whoosh of air that could chill the blood of even those who had heard it before.
Not knowing if this dragon was friend or foe, Cearan pulled at his bonds in earnest. He called to Merrick who appeared to be doing the same thing. Even Lexin in his cage was trying to rise.
Whoomph flew the dragon overhead, screaming this time as it passed. Elves scattered in search of weapons after the pass and Fen was shouting orders.
The dragon dipped into the clearing with agility and an elf screamed as it was lifted by the dragon’s rear talons.
Cearan nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand grabbed his upper arm. He looked up into the grinning face of a man who was obviously lion kin. The man put a finger to his lips for silence and then drew the knife from the top of his boot.
Cearan sucked in a deep breath as his arms dropped after his bonds were cut. His rescuer laid a sword next to him and then turned to Merrick. Merrick was quickly cut loose and provided a similar weapon.
Whoomph. The dragon flew over once more and Wilder elves began to shoot arrows in its direction.
Riordan squatted next to Cearan. “The owner of these will not need them any more. I thought you could use them once the feeling returns into your arms,” he said in a whisper. He pointed toward the sky. “However, you might want to take cover first.”
Riordan started to rise in order to do just that when Cearan halted him with a hand on his arm. “I cannot leave my brother,” he said. “Can you help me free him?”
“We must wait,” Riordan answered. “But it will not be long. Help is on its way. Come, follow me.”
Cearan looked over at Lexin who calmly gazed back at him. He had managed to get to his feet, the shaft end sticking out grotesquely from his rear leg. The lion blinked once and Cearan nodded.
Grabbing with numb fingers the weapons given to them, Cearan and Merrick followed Riordan from the edge of the clearing into the cover of the trees. They turned at the screams of the elves as the forest dragon landed in the center of the clearing.
As several elves rushed at her, Zara turned to face them and exhaled her breath weapon of wind. Two elves lost their balance and fell heavily as a sharp blast of air hit them. Undaunted by their companions’ fate, two more ran at the dragon, spears at the ready.
Zara turned at this new threat and roared in anger then breathed the strong wind again. A dust devil twisted across the clearing and sucked the two elves into the air. With a twist of her head, the mini tornado moved and the elves were flung against a large tree. Bones snapped with the force and once the bodies hit the ground, neither moved again except for their death twitches.
The remaining Wilder elves paused in confusion, looking to their leader for direction.
Taking advantage of their indecision, Zara jumped into one cluster and began to snap with her sharp beak, causing death and chaos.
Riordan looked over at Cearan when he snorted. “This amuses you?” he questioned.
Cearan returned the look. “No, but I was hoping that I might enter the fray with some of the elves still alive. Your friend is most effective.”
Riordan grinned at Cearan. “You will have a turn. This I promise.” He turned back to watch.
A movement by the cage caught the men’s attention and Cearan gasped in disbelief. “Vashti? How is it that she is here?”
Riordan grabbed Cearan by the upper arm when he made to go toward the sorceress. “We are to wait for her signal before going to fight. Hold.”
The three watched as Vashti looked over the lock that held the door to the magic cage. She studied it for a brief moment then could be seen muttering foreign words over it, the lock laying in the palm of her hand with her other hand held over it.
All three men gasped when a bright light came from the lock and Vashti stepped back quickly. She shook her hand as if it stung, and t
hen palmed the lock once more, gazing at it intently.
Vashti looked at Lexin and spoke quietly to him. He limped to the back of the cage.
Concentrating once more, she cast another spell over the lock. More than the three men hiding in the trees jumped as a thin streak of lightning came from a cloudless sky and exploded the lock.
Vashti turned in Riordan’s direction as she dropped the pieces of the ruined lock and nodded once.
“Now you may join in, my lord, but the leader is mine,” Riordan said to the others.
“No, I think not. I think Lexin will wish for that honor,” Cearan corrected him and moved out into the clearing, sword ready.
Cearan was right, for as soon as Vashti swung the door of the cage open, Lexin walked out. Once free of the enchanted cage he kept his lion’s form and with head held high, sniffed the air for Fen’s scent. He caught it easily as the elf’s fear was strong and not far away. He broke into a limping trot and followed the trail.
He found Fen quickly. When the elf looked over his shoulder, he saw a large male lion closing in behind him. He turned and drew his dagger as the lion roared in anger and leapt at him.
The last thing Fen saw was a tawny blur and the lion’s fangs aimed for his throat.
Cearan and Riordan looked at each other at the faint roar. Lexin must have found his quarry, they both concluded.
They returned their attention to Merrick as Vashti set the panther kin’s broken finger. It had been a clean break and Vashti quickly had it back in place with only a gasp from him. She was wrapping it with a piece of Merrick’s shirt when Lexin limped slowly back into camp.
He made it to where they were and within a heartbeat changed back to a man. Cearan looked up at him, his grin fading as he took in Lexin’s appearance.
The piece of staff still protruded from his leg and the hilt of a small dagger was sticking from his chest.
“Cearan,” he whispered and collapsed slowly in front of them. Cearan managed to catch him and kept him from falling on the knife.
Riordan helped Cearan ease the wounded man to the ground as Vashti rushed to their side.
“Merrick, keep watch no Wilders stumble over us,” she commanded in her soft voice. She had the two concerned Werren men turn Lexin onto his back and then she quietly assessed the damage done by the dagger’s blade. She placed a small hand on Lexin’s chest around the knife and closed her eyes in concentration.
Riordan looked at her with worried eyes. He knew he had found Cerise’s mate, but now it appeared he had been too late to save him. “Lady?” he whispered in concern.
Violet eyes opened and looked at him. “I will need Zara’s help in the healing spell if we are to save him. The blade has touched his heart. When I remove the dagger he will bleed to death if she is not close.”
Riordan nodded in understanding and stood, rushing out into the clearing. His sword flashed as he fought through a few remaining elves, trying to get closer to Zara. One last elf stood between him and the Forest Dragon. He slew it with a roar. Zara spun and narrowly missed him with her tail as she turned to face a foe, stopping when she recognized her ally instead.
Both looked over the clearing and saw no more threat from the Wilder elves.
“Hurry great Zara. Vashti has need of you,” he called and ran back to where Lexin lay.
The others moved to the side to give the dragon a better view.
Cearan looked up at her with tears shimmering in his amber eyes. “Please help him,” he whispered pleadingly. “Please.”
“I will do what I can, lion man.” She lowered her head until her beak nearly touched Lexin’s chest. After a brief study, she raised her head again. “When Vashti removes the blade, everyone must move back,” she ordered.
Vashti nodded when she was ready and grasped the dagger’s grip. She glanced once into Zara’s eyes and then pulled hard. The dagger released with a sickening sucking sound and Lexin arched in pain, a strangled yell escaping him.
Zara lifted a large, taloned front foot and placed it over Lexin, holding him gently flat on the ground. Vashti knelt by his head and placed her hands along his face. She whispered soothing words and then began to softly recite the words of a healing spell.
Zara followed suit, and a soft glow appeared from under her foot.
Several anxious minutes passed as the others knelt nearby. The glow under Zara’s foot grew until finally Lexin gave a startled gasp as he drew in a huge breath.
Zara raised her foot and settled to the ground to rest. “I can do no more for him. It is the will of his god if he will survive, but he is out of immediate danger.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lexin woke with a start, drenched in a broken fever’s sweat. It was quiet around him except for the night sounds of the surrounding forest and the gentle crackling of a campfire.
He tried to sit up, but found it hurt intensely to move so he lay still once more.
The sound of someone coming to sit next to him had him turning his head slightly to see them. A Werren male he vaguely remembered seeing at the Wilder camp returned his gaze as a sword-roughened hand felt his forehead.
“Cool at last, my lord. Vashti will be pleased,” he commented quietly. “Do you thirst?”
Lexin realized then that he did, his throat so dry it hurt to speak. “Yes,” was all he could croak.
The man eased to his feet and moved away for a minute, leaving Lexin room to see the others of his party laying around the fire, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. He made out one form that was quite a bit smaller than his companions and hope welled in him.
“Cerise,” he managed to whisper and tried to rise once more. He was stopped by a strong hand.
“Stay still,” the man said and helped him upright enough he could drink without choking. “Your woman is safe but she is not here. That is Vashti the sorceress.”
After a few swallows of cool water, Lexin looked up at the Werren male. “Cerise lives?”
“Aye, my lord. She is at my village in the care of my mother and father. When Vashti feels you are up for travel, we will take you there.”
The man eased Lexin back down after one more taste of water. “I am Riordan Canif,” he said, gazing down at Lexin with tired amber eyes. “You should sleep. Rest is the best thing now for your wounds to heal.”
Lexin closed his eyes, not so much as to return to sleep but to take stock of his injuries. He remembered seeing the dagger in his chest as he stumbled back to Cearan and Merrick. His chest ached now as if Marlhowh had kicked him. He raised a hand to touch gingerly at his breast to find the dagger gone. His leg did not pain as much so the shaft had been removed as well, although the pull of stitches was there.
His whole body hurt from the beatings he had received but none of that mattered now as he felt the relief flow through him at the news that Cerise was alive.
Lexin sighed, trying to ignore the pain. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Riordan leaned forward at the barely audible words. “Do not thank me, my lord, for I did nothing for you. My concern is for the lady.” His direct gaze met Lexin’s startled one.
Before Lexin could reply, Riordan leaned in even closer. “Do not worry. Your woman is not interested in any one but you.” Riordan gave a carnal grin. “But if I had found you dead, I would try to change that.”
Riordan sat back and Lexin noticed that the man held a small knife and a piece of wood. Half of some sort of bird was taking shape in the wood.
“Rest now,” Riordan commanded in a tired voice and ducked his head as he returned to his carving.
Lexin woke the next morning to a much more active camp. The Werren male he had spoken with last night was not in sight, but Cearan was squatting next to the fire, stirring something in a pot. A pleasant aroma came from it, making Lexin’s belly growl. He could not remember the last meal he had eaten.
Vashti was seated next to Merrick, examining his fingers while he sat trying
not to flinch at her gentle probing.
Lexin turned his head at the sound of horses coming into the camp. He gasped at the incoming rider, making the others look at him and then around.
Riordan rode into the small clearing on Marlhowh, leading Raven, Fox, Mitch and a bay horse he didn’t recognize. All the horses looked a bit worse for wear except the bay, but none seemed badly wounded.
Lexin managed to raise himself on an elbow. No one but him had ever ridden the bad tempered stallion and now the horse came ambling in like an old plow mare.
Riordan stopped close to the people staring at him in disbelief. “I am afraid your packhorses are gone. I found these poor creatures in a thicket tangled in their picket lines.
“How did you…?” Lexin began gruffly, still not believing Marlhowh was allowing a stranger on his back. “Marlhowh is one of the most disagreeable horses in all of Kismera.”
Riordan dismounted from the big horse and patted its neck. “He is not in Kismera,” he commented dryly with a grin and moved to a place to secure the stallion.
Cearan went quickly to take Raven and Fox and tied them to nearby trees while Vashti did the same with Mitch.
After the horses were all cared for and settled, Cearan returned to his spot by the fire. As he stirred, Riordan joined him.
“Thank you for the return of our horses,” Cearan said to him.
“Yes, Riordan, you have our thanks. For our lives as well as the horses,” Lexin commented hoarsely from his pallet.
Riordan ducked his head in acknowledgement. “I am just pleased it has turned out for the good. I have been looking for that Fen villain for some time. I just wish I could have found him before his band found you.”
Lexin lay back on his blankets and looked up into the branches of the tree over his head. “They just melted from the trees it seemed. There was no warning of their presence. One moment we were breaking camp, the next there were fifteen elves surrounding us.”
“That is the way of the Wilder elves. They are so much a part of the forest it is as if the trees are a part of them. They will not fight you in the grasslands. They have no knowledge how to deal with that sort of territory.But in the trees...”
Lexin's Quest (Knights of Kismera Book 2) Page 16