by AJ Searle
“Those clouds look like they carry rain,” Ronan observed and then glanced around until his eyes rested on the small crevice of a cave entrance. “Let’s see how much dry space we’ll have to work with. We may have to move some rocks around to make room for everyone a place to sleep.” He stepped toward the cave. At the entrance he stopped and looked back at her, feeling ashamed that he’d actually considered leading her inside with hopes that her affection could be won.
“It’s dark in there. You may want to wait outside,” He reluctantly warned and her mouth slanted as she pushed past him into the cave.
“For what? You think there are snakes in here?” Her sarcasm echoed from within the belly of the cavern.
“There is now,” He mumbled back at her before ducking into the darkness behind her. Pitch black and no crevices to offer light, he observed, or rain. The smoky scent of rock dust was light in the air, but not damp. This would be a good place, if it were big enough.
“Can you see anything?” Ronan reached out but his hands slid through the velvet. His voice hit the back wall of the cavern and came back at him. He judged it to be just a few feet deep. It was big enough for the five of them, though they would be sleeping side by side.
“I’m a Serpentine. Of course I can see,” She said from just ahead of him. With his hands extended in front of him, he stumbled deeper into the cave, stepping carefully over the unfamiliar stone floor. The scrape of his shoes on the floor sounds like the steps of an ogre, he thought to himself. That meant there were no other entrances in the back.
“Psst.” The sound whispered past his ear but he could not find a body with his hands. Instead they hit the back wall of the cave. His fingers dragged down the rough rock. Feels like granite, he observed absently.
A little giggle caused him to turn left. “I believe you are trying to get me lost in here.” He felt like a fool grinning into the blackness. But he couldn’t help it. It felt like she had started some erotic game, one that might end in a way he wouldn’t mind if he caught her. He swiped his hand around him but she’d moved again. He whirled when she tapped him on the shoulder but then she was swallowed up by the darkness again.
“No fair if you are using snake arms to do that.” He called then lowered his voice. “What do I get if I catch you?”
“You won’t,” She whispered, the sound of her voice seeming closer than before, the echoes not traveling so far. He reached out but touched only nothingness.
“Then what is the point of this?” He moved slowly, turning in circles as he stepped. “There must be some reward that will keep me interested.” A little sound, like muffled laughter and he found a wall again. She was right. He wouldn’t be able to catch her this way. Finally he grew still and closed his eyes to the darkness. Maybe if he listened hard enough he could hear her breathing.
Without sight, Ronan’s other senses became more acute. Faintly he could smell her, the soft but musky scent of her hair. Keeping his arms extended he felt warmth move slowly past them, parting the cool of the air. She was close. She moved with silence so it did no good to focus on trying to hear her. But he could feel her eyes watching him now. He wondered at how much of an idiot he looked like in the dark.
But Ronan had started to feel like part of the cave, now. It was similar to how he felt when he made a sword, becoming adjusted to the straight lines and sharp edge. His body became part of the heat of the forge. His hands held the blade, almost as if he was an extension of the weapon. Now, he was a stone in this dark cave and she was the intruder. He was part of the darkness, seeking out his prey.
It startled him that he would even think of it that way. He was not preying on her. It had been she that started this game. But still it was a hunt. She’d set their roles when she’d laughed at his fumbling. And he was a hunter, she was the hunted. The thought of those roles caused his heart to quicken.
“You are wrong.” His words sounded like thunder when they interrupted the silence. “I am going to catch you. I can tell which direction you are in now. Before long, my eyes will have become accustomed. You’ll have nowhere to hide.” She giggled and his smile widened as he realized she was right in front of him. Still he did not reach out for her. His muscles tightened, readying to capture his wild thing. He sensed a quick movement suddenly at his side and reached out, hand touching a waist and then hooking it. Fiona’s laughter drifted up.
“Not bad for a blind blacksmith,” She said between chuckles.
“You’ll have to be eyes enough for me until we can get some fire in here. Is it big enough for all of us?” His hand remained on the bare skin of her waist. He’d already determined it was a large cavern and that they would have more than enough room to sleep. But he liked the sound of her voice. It was like thick waves of obsidian in an even darker night.
“More than big enough,” she told him. “No wetness can get in.”
“Good.” Still he didn’t move and he noticed she didn’t either. “How hard would you slap me if I kissed you, Fiona?” He asked after a moment.
“Very hard,” she answered.
“Close your eyes,” he commanded.
“Why?”
“It evens things up a bit.” He turned and reached out with his other hand to find her shoulder. Fingers tightened there on her skin and pulled her forward.
“It’s not a good idea. We have a mission,” Fiona reasoned.
Ronan leaned forward and found her lips in the dark. “I thought you were going to slap me,” he spoke against her mouth.
“Thestian might not approve of this. He sent me to retrieve the sword for him.” Fiona was grasping for reasons to end their exchange. “The others will return soon. It doesn’t take Ula long to bring back food.” Ronan breathed out heavily against the ball of her shoulder. He lowered his forehead and rested it against her.
“Just tell me no or yes. I’m no good at deciphering what you really mean,” he murmured.
“Yes.”
* * *
“You are a wizard.” Fiona’s voice was the first to interrupt the stillness that stretched between them.
“I’m a blacksmith,” he argued
“You are more than that. When you…found your pleasure…” she sounded a bit embarrassed, “there was light all around us. As bright as if we were in an open field.”
“It’s the sword. I’d forgotten to remove it from my belt when we started. I was a bit preoccupied with other things,” he reasoned.
“The light did not come from the sword. The light came from you,” she insisted.
“Stop this nonsense. I am no wizard.” He tried to laugh but the sound caught in his throat. “I am just a man as any other. It’s the sword. The metal holds magic.”
“No.” Fiona touched his arm. “The metal works for a wizard’s magic. The power of the sword is the draw for control. The magic of it is the harnessed power of the person.”
Ronan stepped away from her, toward the entranceway of the cave. “Enough of this silliness. The others will be waiting.” But guilt made him stop. She did not deserve his coldness. He turned back and moved to her. She remained still when he dropped a kiss on her cheek.
“It is a serious matter for a wizard to carry the sword, more serious than if you were man without magic.”
Ronan turned abruptly. He didn’t want to hear anything more. It was making his head hurt.
Instead he stepped into the sunlight and shielded his eyes, leaving her in the darkness. The others were not looking in his direction, going about as if they knew nothing of what had just occurred. Well, all except Ula, who looked right at him. Of course she would, just to laugh at him.
Slowly his eyes adjusted to the light. “The cave will be dry enough for us if it rains.” He glanced at Ula, and then met her eyes. “What is it?” Her lips thinned and she looked down at the meat she was preparing. He didn’t glance back at Fiona as she stepped from the cave.
Fiona’s gaze moved over each of them as Ronan settled near Ula and took out his dagger and a stone.
The scrape of the blade across the hard rock filled the air, quickly chasing the uncomfortable silence away.
Fiona figured that the boy was the one most likely to have no judgments about what had just transpired between her and the blacksmith. Ula’s gaze cutting in Ronan’s direction and Keegan’s smug little grin were expressions she didn’t really want to face. So she climbed up the boulder to settle beside Ronan’s apprentice.
“See anything?”
“No.” Arien shook his fair head. “Not even a shadow that might be that centaur.”
“That should ease everyone’s worries,” Fiona said then sighed. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I was angry and acted foolishly.”
Arien tilted his head as he looked at her. “You think I’m sore at you?” He offered a shy smile and shook his head. “I’m not. And it didn’t really hurt.”
She smiled, knowing that it was a lie he told. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said.
“If you are hungry, come and eat,” Ula called.
Arien jumped to his feet and held out a hand to help Fiona down from the boulder. She accepted his assistance, smiling when he didn’t let go until she was standing both feet on the ground.
“You go ahead. I’m not very hungry right now. I’ll eat later,” she told him and he rushed forward to accept the food Ula had waiting for him. She could see why Ronan had such a fondness for him and why Ula was so protective of him.
Leaning back against the cool stone, she looked out at the trees, dismissing her observations of the youth. What had she done? Thestian would know she and Ronan had joined. She prayed it would not make him think she could not fulfill her mission.
Missions were what always came first with Serpentine Warriors. She was the best at what she did because she wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed. She’d learned to use her sword as well as the changeling magic that was part of her. No one was better. It was why Thestian had sent for her rather than someone else.
Her gaze drifted to Ronan, watched him as he began to eat. He was a wizard and hadn’t seemed overly surprised when she’d told him. There had been denial but no shock. In fact, he’d almost seemed angry when she said the words. What did that mean? Was he someone who was a threat to Merisgale? Thestian hadn’t thought so but why then would he refuse to acknowledge his gifts?
She blinked and looked away when his gaze darted toward her. She didn’t want to be suspicious of him. The brown of Ronan’s eyes were without ill intent. He’d even felt guilty for being abrupt with her.
She liked Ronan. She liked him the moment he’d first spoken to her in the tavern. Something drew her to him, she’d felt it when they’d ridden together.
She could not afford to care for someone. That kind of caring brought pain. Pain brought error in judgment. And there could be no error when it came to the King’s Sword. The dangers were too great; the stakes to high.
Ten
“They did what?” Diato’s voice vibrated through the Great Hall of Merisgale Castle as he stared at the young wizard with wild eyes. The maids who were serving Thestian his supper cringed and then scampered from the room when Thestian took pity on them and dismissed them with a slight wave of his hand.
“I suspected it would happen.” Thestian could see the anger rising in the captain of the guards. The man looked as if he was ready to burst, eyes wide, hands shaking, jaw clenched in an effort to control his temper.
“He must have tricked her,” Diato reasoned through gritted teeth. “Took his role in carrying the sword seriously. As if he were really a guard. She may have even protested.” He was only making himself even angrier with every word he spoke.
“There seemed to be no trickery involved,” Thestian said in a soft voice and crossed his arms. “I don’t know if they felt emotion for one another. Only that they joined. Emotion could make delivering the sword more complicated. The dark forces can use the heart to weaken people.”
Diato’s entire body was shaking. “When did it happen?” His fingers dropped to the sword that rested in the sheath on his hip. He gripped the hilt tightly.
Thestian sighed heavily. “You do not want details…”
“When?” Diato forgot himself and raised his voice.
The young wizard was not offended. In fact, he understood Diato’s anger.
“Yesterday, in a cave. In the foothills of Jobi Mountains,” Thestian told him quietly.
“A cave?” Diato laughed at that but it was not a laugh of humor. It nearly sounded maniacal. Thestian rose from his chair and moved toward the window, placing distance between Diato and himself.
“I’ll kill him,” Diato threatened. “I’ll kill them both.”
“I thought I understood that the two of you were no longer together.”
“She’s mine.” The possessiveness in Diato’s voice thickened his words.
“Well, you should remain calm. You are no use to me in this crazed state,” Thestian warned but he couldn’t be sure that Diato even heard him. When he turned from the window, the man looked changed, maddened with jealousy. Thestian could see his true nature easily now. Diato did not care if Fiona didn’t want him. He could live with that. But if he couldn’t have her, then no one else could either. And that made Diato more dangerous than Thestian had ever imagined.
Diato suddenly looked up at Thestian. “It could jeopardize the mission.”
The wizard nodded. The captain obviously hadn’t heard Thestian’s warning of the same thing only moments before.
“You said Fiona was the only one to do this mission, that she was the best person for the job,” Thestian reminded. “I trust you did not lie to me.”
“I did not but I had not considered the blacksmith would be a man of such low character that he would attempt to manipulate her with sex to do as he wished,” Diato said, clearly placing full blame upon Ronan Culley.
“She may have manipulated him,” Thestian suggested quietly. “I would guess her an aggressive woman by the way she used her sword.”
“She did not manipulate him,” Diato argued, his voice trembling. “I did as you asked. I looked into the blacksmith’s past. It seems Ronan Culley is not just a man who bends metal.”
“Oh?” Thestian’s brow arched.
“He is a wizard,” Diato continued. “An ignorant wizard but a wizard none the less. He never even went to a monastery. The sword may be in danger.”
Thestian studied Diato’s face for a few moments. “What do you suggest is the appropriate course of action?”
“Interception.” Diato did not even hesitate before answering. “I could round up some of my men and ride out tonight. We could intercept them within a week.”
Thestian sighed heavily. “It seems there is no other choice. Round up your men. Leave in the morning.” Diato bowed respectfully before leaving the wizard to do as he was bid.
-
“Damned changelings. They are taking over everything,” Arneld growled, slamming his large hand down on the table. His brown eyes were filled with cold hatred. “A man can’t get a decent job anymore. It’s all changelings or worse, half beasts.”
“Arneld, not in front of our son,” Marjorie warned softly but Arneld’s head snapped around so he could stare at his young son. The boy stared at his father with wide eyes, having never seen him so angry in all his eight years.
“The sooner he learns the way of things the better off he’ll be,” Arneld argued. “It’s better he gets the truth about magic before it’s too late.”
“No, we always said we would not teach him to hate.” Marjorie placed a gentle hand on Arneld’s shoulder. “It will upset him.”
“Men are tainted if they have magic. It’s the truth. We are the only things pure of magic anymore. I am through with any who do have magic.” Arneld’s hand clenched, his knuckles whitened. “I was the best man for that job. I can do the work. That damned changeling transformed himself into a mule and did it in the half the time.”
“Arneld…” Marjorie tried
to stop him again.
“No! My son will not grow up thinking it is acceptable to let those freaks take what is his. I won’t have it. A changeling is no friend. I know that and now he will too. Boltic was my friend and he stabbed me in the back. Pulled that job right out of my hands, knowing my family needs to be fed.”
“Boltic’s family has suffered too,” Marjorie said.
“That was my job! He wouldn’t have even known about it if I hadn’t told him! They aren’t welcomed in this house ever again. Don’t let the boy go playing with their son anymore. No changeling will ever set foot on this land as long as I live here!”
“But, Egle is my friend,” A tiny voice dared to whisper from the small chair at the table.
“And you will not be my son if you go against my wishes, boy! I’ll beat the breath from you and put you out if I ever catch you taking up with a changeling. They are tainted and evil! All magic is evil!” Arneld’s words brought tears to the boy’s eyes. He’d never threatened violence against his son before.
“Egle is not evil.”
“I say that he is!” Arneld bellowed and the boy grew silent.
“Arneld! He’s only eight.” Marjorie cried. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked down at the deflated expression on her son’s face. Arneld stared at her, then rose and stormed into the back room. He slammed the door behind him so forcefully that the walls of the cottage vibrated.
Marjorie sighed, looking at her son. “Don’t you listen to him. Egle is your friend. He can always be your friend.”
“Father says that magic is evil.” The boy’s lips quivered.
Marjorie looked toward the door her husband just disappeared behind. She knelt beside the boy’s chair, lowering her voice. “You aren’t evil. We just won’t tell him about the things you can do. He never has to know. It will be our secret. Will that be alright?” She smiled when he nodded and leaned forward to press her lips against his forehead. “Egle is still your friend. Neither of you are evil. You are my special little boy. My very special little boy.”