by C. C. Wiley
Thunder slipped through the opening of the window, followed by his master.
“Sabine,” Darrick called, his voice strained with urgency. “Where are you? DePierce’s men are not sparing the horses and ride at full speed towards the cottage.”
She motioned toward the shaft in the floor, and then realized his sight was limited by the lack of light.
“Sabine? They carry torches. The roof will be on fire in no time at all. Come on, love. Answer me. Where are you?”
Sabine popped her head out of the hole in the floor. “Down here. ’Tis another way out.”
Darrick turned toward her voice. “What have we got here, lass? Have you an idea where it leads?”
“No, but it holds promise of leading away from this dreadful place. You said so yourself, that soon the roof will be on fire.”
Darrick warily eyed the little hole. “I cannot fathom how my shoulders will fit.”
Sabine watched the great man who knelt beside her. Even in the shadows of the room, she could see the perspiration trail down his pale face. His hands, clenched in fists, rested at his hips.
“How do you know ’tis better than this?” he asked.
She touched his hand. “Darrick, we must take that chance. You said they come to burn the cottage. They do not want survivors or any trace of our being here.”
Getting no response from him, she grabbed his wrist and tugged. “’Tis all right,” she reassured. “You will fit wonderfully in here. I remember Nandra used to have a tunnel like this under her cottage in the woods near Clearmorrow. As a child, I played in it. I promise you, ’twas quite safe.”
The sound of horses charging towards the cottage was like a storm brewing overhead. The flames flickered against the little window as the band of men drew closer. They would have to be well through the tunnel if they were to escape the damages of the smoke.
She tugged on him again. “We’ll put Thunder through first. With that miraculous nose of his, he will lead us to the other end.”
His lips stretched into a snarl. “I hate the thought of dying without putting up a fight.” He motioned her to give him room. “I’ll join you just as soon as I gather our things.”
“I already have them.”
His brows rose in appreciation. “Busy wench. Well then, move over.”
Sabine climbed down the ladder. Picking up the bundle, she moved over to the side of the tunnel.
Thunder’s hind legs pawed franticly at the tunnel walls. Once he reached the floor, she soothed the beast’s fur. “Easy, boy. Think of all the wonderful smells you can follow down here.”
Darrick dropped beside them and shut the trap door. With their only light removed, everything went dark.
Sabine took the candle she had stuffed in the pocket of her gown. She pulled out a flint.
Darrick stilled her hand. “We don’t know if there is fresh air down here. As you pointed out before, we’ll follow Thunder’s lead. He has a keen sense of survival. If there is a way, he will find it.”
They began their journey through the tunnel. Darrick held the scruff of Thunder’s neck, following wherever he led. They paused as a tiny breeze fluttered past their faces.
“Do you feel it?” Sabine asked. “Do you feel the air? The opening must be close by. Now may we light use candle to light our path?”
Darrick waited for the breeze. At his side, Thunder sniffed about on the floor, interested in pushing on, and not positioning for a fight. “’Tis safe. Light the wick.”
The flame sputtered and then illuminated the surrounding walls. Darrick rested his back against the damp rock. Shoulders hunched, he tucked his head down to keep from scraping the roof of the tunnel. His tight smiled returned. “Obviously this rabbit-hole was made for a person of smaller stature.”
He ran his fingers down her cheek and pressed his palm against her neck. “Can you make it a little farther?”
Sighing, she leaned against his hands drawing strength and energy from his presence. She traced his mouth and brow with dirt-smudged fingers. “I’m rested and ready to leave this place.”
He pushed himself off against the wall and captured her fingers. “Your wish is my desire, my lady.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Thunder,” he called. “Lead on.”
Darrick cursed as the scent of smoke swirled past their heads. “I fear they’ve torched the cottage. There’s no turning back now. I pray we find the way out before the tunnel fills with smoke.”
Running at a trot, they followed the dog until he stopped at the end of the tunnel. Pacing the floor, Thunder whined and scratched at the wall.
“A dead end,” Sabine cried. “We should have stayed and taken our escape as you wanted.”
Darrick placed his hands on her shoulders and gave a reassuring squeeze. “We’re not finished yet. Give me a moment.”
Sabine released the heavy bundle and watched Darrick run his hands along the wall of earth. She followed the patterns that he drew on the dusty stone.
The stench of smoke began to wrap its tentacles around their heads. Foul air surrounded them, filling their lungs.
“We’re almost there. I believe I found the entrance. Just a bit covered up is all.”
Darrick began to dig. She pressed towards him, determined to help. Taking the dagger from her waist, she held it out. “Here, use this. See if it will help dig us out of here.”
He winced as another cough tore through his injured ribs. He dug around the rock, hidden under the dirt. With the blade of the knife, he found the crease in the wall. One more cut of the blade and the light filtered through the crack.
“If we give one big push we should be able to leave this place.”
“Wait!” Sabine squealed, grabbing Darrick’s shoulder. “Nandra had a lever that triggered the door to open, but if forced, it would bring the ceiling crashing down on top of the intruder. Feel along the wall. In the corner should be a wedge of rock. You’ll find a trigger to open the door.”
Following Sabine’s directions, Darrick found the lever. It was nestled beside the wedge of rocks, just as she had warned. Flipping the iron peg back, the door opened slightly.
Smoke swirled as they shoved against the door. Darrick held them all in check, refusing to allow anyone to rush out to the fresh air. Crawling through the narrow doorway, he hid behind the bushes that wrapped around the entrance. With a silent gesture, he motioned Sabine to join him behind the brush.
Crawling out of the tunnel, Sabine sucked in all the fresh air she could gather into her lungs. He crawled over to give her a hand to pull the door shut. They glanced at each other and shared a moment of relief.
“We made it, love. A sorry sight, but we are still breathing. We will have to travel a little further. I know you are hungry but I don’t want to wait around for someone to remember the tunnel.” He pointed to the flickering light of the torches as the men searched through the trees. “Let’s go. They are moving about us.”
“How do we know which way to go? We may never find Chance and Nathan if Thunder cannot find their scent.”
“Do you have something that belongs to Chance in that bundle of yours?”
Darrick took the blanket Sabine immediately produced and held it under Thunder’s nose. Without a sound, Darrick motioned him to follow the scent.
“He won’t allow us to cross paths with the band of men. We’ll travel towards Chance’s location first. Nathan would not want it any other way.”
Hungry and exhausted, they traveled only a short distance before they could journey no farther. Darrick found a shelf of rock that sheltered them from the night air and gave them a wall to protect their backs.
Daylight seeped out of the sky. Sabine’s stomach growled as she sat beside him. Darrick rubbed his side. Shadows emphasized the weary bruising under his eyes. Pushing up from the old tree stump, he bent over and rested his hands on his knees.<
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“Where do you think you are going?” Sabine hissed. “You must rest.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Fatigue made his shoulders droop. “We need food to sustain us.”
Warmth washed over her as she looked up at the bedraggled knight who towered over her. Even covered in dirt he was still her protector.
“What would you say if I told you we already have our food for the night?”
She pulled out the clay pot and lifted the lid. The scent of stew rolled out, wafting up to greet their hungered senses. “’Tis cold and pasty but looks to be a filling mixture.” She answered the questioning look he gave her as he lifted his raven eyebrows. “I found it simmering over the hearth in the cottage.”
Darrick warily eyed the cold congealed stew. He gave a sample to Thunder, allowing him to taste it before they did. “The dog has keener senses and will leave it alone if ’tis unfit to eat.”
Together, they watched the sample disappear. Thunder sat, wagging his tail, waiting for another morsel.
Darrick handed the pot back to Sabine. “My friend here says ’tis safe to eat. However, we’ll rest on the side of caution and watch him for a time. You truly are a wonder. Do you have any more tricks up your sleeve? Some ale or wine perhaps to wash it down?”
Sabine shook her head. “I didn’t have the time.” She bit her lip, peering through the dark at the dog lying down at her feet. “Will Thunder be all right? Do you really think she poisoned it?”
Hearing his name, the hound lifted his head from his paws and thumped his tail on the ground. Wriggling closer on all fours, he scratched his way towards her feet. Finally, close enough to be within reach, he rolled over on his back to have his belly scratched. His pink tongue lolled out in something oddly resembling a grin and waited patiently for his new mistress to pay attention to him.
“We won’t be safe for the night where we are. But we dare not travel in the dark without a mount.” Darrick shook his head. “Or the ability to light a torch. The soldiers would see it from a great distance. I have to find us shelter.”
He rose again and this time, Sabine did not question his orders. His gaze searched the growing shadows. He paused and then without explanation, he left her side.
She hid along the rocky wall. The longer she waited for his return, the more her fear grew. Her palms sweated. Her heart stuttered with every sound. How long could she wait for his return? Sabine tensed.
A shadow came toward her, stealing her breath. Was it DePierce? Fear froze her mind. The scream locked in her throat.
Darrick stepped out of the shadows. “We must move.”
“Saints.” Sabine hugged her legs, resting her forehead on her knees.
“Make haste, my lady. The soldiers are nearby.”
Chapter 14
Stumbling, Sabine caught an overhanging branch with a free hand and held on. “I cannot go on. This is madness. ’Tis too steep. We shall surely die from our fall.”
“Death will only come if you don’t move your feet and continue to provide your backside as a target for the bowman.”
The distance to the ground made her insides tilt off balance. “Leave me. Save yourself and the others.”
“Sabine, don’t be so foolish. Let go. The bush will not hold your weight much longer. See here,” he pointed, “the roots have begun to pull away from the earth.”
“I cannot,” she whispered.
Darrick climbed back down. Prying her fingers from the slim branch, he wrapped his strong fingers around her wrist, tugging her towards the rocky ledge. Squeezing her hand, he looked at her bruised face and smiled, hoping to reassure her.
“I won’t allow you to die.”
Together, they reached the ledge that loomed overhead. Shrubbery covered the entrance to a cave-like formation. Behind the bushes, the crevice yawned deeper into the ground. It gradually widened, drawing them into the cave’s mouth.
“We’ll rest for the night and break camp when day breaks.” Lifting his head, he sniffed the air. “Do you smell it?”
He led the way deeper into the cave. Following the scent of damp rock, they neared the edge of a pool. The floor was smooth. The rough edges rubbed smooth by many years of water lapping at the white stone. Moisture gathered and dripped from the ceiling, pooling in deep pockets dug into the stone. Locating a dry spot in which to rest, Darrick laid his cloak upon the floor and motioned her to sit. “Rest.”
He settled his back against the cave wall. Sabine sighed and snuggled closer. The warmth drew them, pulling them into a swirl of misty thoughts.
* * * *
Sabine fought the dream but could not escape its web. Perspiration slid down her nose. Her head throbbed.
She had returned to her home and hid in her great bed with the pillow over her head. Unable to ignore the sounds, she peeked out from the edge of her blanket. She called out for her father and mother. No one came. She started to call for Taron’s help, and stopped. Her brother had disappeared. She could not remember why. Perhaps off fighting for the king?
She had wriggled off her high bed. Stumbling when she hit the floor, she wondered at the size of her hands and feet.
She was a little girl again, alone, and afraid.
The window in her bedchamber opened out to the bailey. She stood on tiptoe to reach the ledge and looked out.
Although night had come to Clearmorrow, the skies were alight with dancing flames licking at the sky. Women were screaming, running with their children in their arms. Those who fell were left behind to fend for themselves.
A dragon grabbed at them, its roar ripped through the air. The home she had known all her life was torn asunder with each swipe of its claws. With every swing, it knocked down the heavy stones of the great wall that had always protected her.
The villagers were at her bedroom door, pounding, pleading for her to come and soothe the dragon’s ire. “Make peace with it, my lady. You have but to give it what it desires. Send it away.”
Sabine ran to bar the door. Could they not understand she was just a little girl? Pressing her forehead against the door, she cried, “There is naught that I can do.”
No matter how she tried to ignore them, the pounding and wailing continued. Running to the small archers’ window, she peeked from behind the opened shutter. The beast stood amongst the destruction.
The old woman was there. Nandra stood beside the dragon. Sabine called out to her friend, but the woman began changing until she became the dragon’s twin.
Sabine raced towards the solar. She would find safety there. The dragons followed close behind. There was no hiding from the beasts.
She slammed the doors shut. Her father’s bow hung over the fireplace in the great hall. She took it down. The weight of the bow knocked her back. Bracing her feet against the wooden frame, she grabbed the line strung across the ends. With trembling fingers, she stretched the strings and nocked the arrow.
She swung open the shutter. The dragons’ fiery breath scorched her face. Surrounded by the pair, she could not decide which direction to aim. Freezing with indecision, she shut her eyes and prayed for help.
Her eyes snapped open in time to see a giant swan flying overhead. Its wingspan, so vast, the dragon’s flames were extinguished. The giant swan landed upon the balcony and motioned Sabine to climb upon its back, promising to carry her up into the clouds.
Sitting astride the great swan, she dug her fingers under the soft down hidden beneath its feathers. Looking from high above her castle, she knew the dragons were still alive. ’Twas then that she vowed she would never give them what they wanted. One day, she would return and fight the dragons.
Much to her surprise the great swan turned to look at her with startling gray eyes and spoke. “You will fight. But the next time you will not be alone. I promise.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, Sabine buried her face
in the soft feathers as the winds wove through her hair.
Chapter 15
Darrick knelt beside the sleeping Sabine. Despite all that she had been through, she still retained her beauty. He held a piece of crispy meat under her nose to awaken her.
“Hungry? Thunder is willing to share. He found a warren of rabbits. Took him a while to convince them to give up their lives, but he can be very persuasive.”
Sabine sat up and rested her back against the cave wall. She dodged his look, choosing to examine the charred meat he shoved in her face. She snagged the hunk of meat and stuffed it in her mouth.
“My lady has an appetite today?”
Keeping her eyes averted, she daintily licked her lips. Speaking past the wad of meat, she mumbled. “’Tis Delicious! But are you certain ’twas safe to leave? What if something had happened?”
Darrick’s gray eyes snapping, he answered coldly. “Thunder and I are capable of discerning when to hunt.”
“What of your injury?” she persisted. “You might have fallen and reopened your wound.”
“I assure you, it doesn’t slow me down a whit. I’ve ridden nonstop, day and night, with worse injuries than this.”
“’Tis not safe. You said so yourself.”
“I also know when the need outweighs the danger,” he snapped back.
“Oh? Of course, that is why we ran our horses into the ambush. ’Twas guaranteed safe then too.”
It irritated him to no end that she continued to question his abilities. He was a highly skilled knight of the realm. At the prime age of fourteen, he was already advanced in the art of armed combat and subterfuge. Rode by his king as a Knight of the Swan. He’d led his battalion of men into battles ever since he could remember. What could this troublesome woman possibly teach him that he did not already know? Her questions rubbed at his raw nerves.
“How, indeed.” His glacier stare held hers. “You knew what would happen when we rode out. I have to ask myself how that foreknowledge came to pass.”
Darrick scooped up the blade beside Sabine. He tossed it in the air. Blunt-end-over-pointed-end, the jeweled knife flipped. The jewels glittered under the light of the torch. The hilt of the blade landed heavily in his hand.