Daryk Warrior

by Denise A. Agnew

  She shook her head as weariness pressed down on her shoulders. “A truthful statement.”

  “Why do you want to go to Grimnald?”

  “I heard there is a healer there, and that it is the least violent area of Dragonia.”

  “You heard wrong. Grimnald isn’t any safer than the other castles right now and the only healer there died years ago. You picked a poor time to leave Magonia. Drakus Fina is sending his rogue hoards to plunder the land.” He edged closer. “And take women.” His gaze sliced across her, probing and assessing. “You’d make a fine addition to his collection.”

  Fear rose inside her. Magon. “Collection?”

  “Breeders to replenish our population. Dragonia is dying. Most of our women are barren and our men no longer strong enough to get their women pregnant.”

  She nodded. “I’d heard that as well. But there is much that is rumor, and no one was quite certain.”

  “Be certain. Drakus believes we must invade your country and take the women. But you’ve just made it a little easier for him by coming here. Dragonia is wild and dangerous. It’s no place for a woman alone.” He frowned. “Wait. You intended to come to Dragonia? There are no passenger ships from Magonia to here.”

  “The Hydrasoseles was headed for Opali in Magonia when the storm came. I planned to find a way to get to Dragonia some other way. Hire a ship. I left Scribe school and…”

  Caution rose inside her. She didn’t know anything about this man. She couldn’t reveal all to him. She needed to think of a way to escape. But how?

  “Enough.” His voice turned impatient. “You’re coming with me.”

  “No. No, I’m not.”

  A crack came from the jungle behind them, and a roar. Just as she whirled toward the sound Eryk drew his sword and stepped in front of her. Rising out of the jungle, a behemoth creature stepped into view. Her breath seized in her lungs. A reptile of incredible size loomed from between the trees, its breath heavy, its long snout jagged with rows of teeth. Its red eyes glared, its skin seemed to pulse with colorful life. Red, green and blue stripes scored its surface. Its long talons dug into the ground as it gripped with four feet. Wings stretched from its back then folded.

  Her pulse tripped and stuttered, her heart banging against her ribs. “What—”

  “Quiet!” Eryk snapped his demand, stinging like a lash.

  Eryk didn’t move, his stance solid, ready for anything.

  The creature eyed them, its gaze malicious but wary. Its breath stank and she wrinkled her nose. The smell overwhelmed her and her stomach curled with revulsion. She almost retched. Mia swayed in her shoes, eyelids fluttering as weakness finally took hold again. Would the creature eat them? Fear rose higher until it took control, and even that weakness infuriated her.

  Mia wavered. Her mind screamed for her to run. Run. She shook inside. Was this man crazy, standing against such a huge animal?

  “Do not move,” the man said.

  She swallowed hard and held her ground.

  The animal stayed still and watched them, eyes gleaming with malice. With one last snort the creature turned and stalked back into the heavy greenery. Mia released a pent-up breath and the weakness in her knees took over. The lights went out again.

  * * * * *

  Night descended on the jungle, and Eryk watched the woman lying on the rollout pallet he’d made. The cave surrounded them as shelter for the night. He’d made a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret. Taking her to Grimnald wouldn’t happen anytime soon, if ever. He couldn’t afford the time for a side trip, not when Bardannia could come under attack from rogues soon. Yet the woman lying on the makeshift bed was an innocent, and he wouldn’t leave a woman in danger even if she did come from Magonia. Despite his inherent need to be fair, the idea of sheltering a Magonian didn’t sit well with him. Even one as defenseless as this one.

  Mia Griffi. And interesting name for an intriguing woman. Two opposites warred inside him. His distaste for Magonians made him want to turn away. If he left her here, anything could happen. Too many perils lived in the jungle, including rebel Daryk Ones who’d turned rogue and gave loyalty to Drakus Fina. No woman could withstand the power of a Daryk One but he’d seen fire inside her, a spark of true defiance and courage. He admired those qualities in man or woman. But if he hadn’t come upon her when he did she would have drowned. The woman needed protection. He sighed. Fuck.

  She shifted on the pallet and he sat on the ground beside her. He’d eaten long ago and night had fallen. She slept like the dead and he feared if she didn’t take food and water soon he’d be saddled with a seriously ill woman. She’d been unconscious for a long time. The fire he’d started at the mouth of the cave would ensure animals would stay away. They didn’t need the warmth—the jungle steamed with heat. Eryk drew his forearm across his face. He needed sleep. When she shifted again and groaned, he waited. He had a feeling she wouldn’t like the sleeping arrangements, but he only possessed one pallet. Not that it was a hardship. He’d slept on the ground often enough. His body, though, had other ideas about taking the hard ground when a pretty, luscious woman lay before him.

  She seemed modest, self-effacing perhaps. He’d met plenty of women who used their beauty to obtain male attention and get what they wanted. He’d grown adept at detecting liars from truth tellers. She defied the odds. He saw sincerity in her eyes but wariness too. She possessed secrets.

  No matter her intentions, her body drew him like no other woman’s had. Her thick dark hair spilled along the pallet, sand caked in the strands. Her lips parted and for a moment he wondered if she had awakened. She shifted then went still. He couldn’t take his gaze away even though his stomach growled and demanded he eat dried meat from his pack. As he chewed the meat, he stared at her.

  Most men wouldn’t describe her as beautiful. She was far more than that. She defied pretty and went straight to amazing. Her eyebrows arched delicately over eyes so dark he’d almost fallen into them. Her face was slim with high cheekbones, her nose a small feature with an innocent tilt to the end. Her body… Oh, her body sparked to life primitive instincts. She was only shoulder-high to his considerable size but tall for a woman. Slim. Curved under that plain tunic and pants. Shapeless clothes couldn’t hide her form. When he’d held her his cock had surged to life, a powerful erection demanding attention. If he could have seduced her into lying down, his cock would have found her tightness and slipped within. He groaned with desire. He gritted his teeth as the realization poured through him. He wanted to protect her, wanted to discover her thoughts and dreams and intelligence. Primitive fear surged upward inside him.

  No. Couldn’t be. He’d heard all the advice about mating with one woman and that many Daryk Ones found their true mate. He could ignore lust, get her to Bardannia Castle and then she’d be on her own. He couldn’t afford the burden of a woman with war looming over the continent. She was delicate—a gentle breeze among beasts.

  He yawned and gave in to the call for sleep. He’d barely lain down next to her on the pallet when she jerked awake and sat up with a gasp. Eryk opened his eyes and stared at her. Mia’s full lips parted, her hand going to the throat of her tunic.

  She scooted off the pallet onto the cave floor, her eyes filled with allegation. “What are you doing?”

  He closed his eyes and folded his hands over his stomach. “Trying to sleep.”

  She made a tiny grunt of disbelief. “Well that is a likely story. Do you have to sleep next to me? And where are we? What happened to that…that creature?”

  Half amused and half annoyed, he opened his eyes. That pretty mouth thinned in disapproval while her eyes threw daggers. “You fainted. The dragon was harmless. Luckily for us it wasn’t a flesh eater. Some dragons don’t eat meat and aren’t aggressive to us.”

  “Dragons?” The word was breathy, filled with equal parts dread and wonder. “I’d read about them of course but never believed they could be real. I thought maybe the elders made them up to scare childr
en. They scare us with so much else.”

  “Magonian parents must be cruel.” He gave her a half-smile.

  “Some are. Mine were…” She swallowed around the pain the subject always brought. “Mine abandoned me in Opali when I was seven. They said I was too difficult to handle so they gave me away to a man they knew who said he could break my willfulness.”

  Eryk’s gut clenched as he imagined any number of horrors. “What did he do?”

  “He figured anyone as willful as I needed a strict husband. He tried to attract a husband for me but they all rejected me after a few moments in my presence.”

  Revulsion rose in his throat. “Seven? He tried to marry you off when you were seven?”

  “They would have bought me and kept me in their household as a regular servant until I was old enough to…” She shrugged.

  He knew what she meant and anger filled him. “Until they could breed you.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “After I failed to attract a suitable husband he sent me away to apprentice as a Scribe.”

  “I suppose that was better than being subjected to a cruel husband.”

  Her gaze traveled to a point far away, as if she remembered and was lost in thought. It took her awhile to answer. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

  Sympathy arose within him but he cut it off. “I don’t know who my father was and my mother was a prostitute who ran a brothel.”

  Those full lips rounded in surprise. “Oh, I see.”

  He shrugged. “I was abandoned in the ice lands of Imekland when I was two. I was lucky that a band of people traveling to Leadious Castle found me and saved my life. I grew up there and when I realized I was a Daryk One I joined the ranks and was assigned to Bardannia. They say I’m made of ice or I wouldn’t have survived.”

  Her sweet mouth parted again and heat surged into his groin. Good thing his tunic shirt was long enough or she’d have an eyeful of a full-blown erection. He doubted she’d know what to do with a cock if she saw one. After all, if rumors proved true, women who became Scribes were cold virgins with no sexual prowess or interest whatsoever.

  He cleared his throat. “I can see I won’t get any sleep for now.” He sat up and reached for his pack with the meager supplies to cover one person. He nodded toward the water bladder lying not far away. “Drink up.” He handed her a length of dried meat. “Eat this.”

  After she’d taken a few sips of water and chewed the meat greedily, she said, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  She sighed and looked at the ground for a moment before meeting his gaze. “For taking care of me.”

  “You were doing well enough on your own.”

  She smiled but it was short-lived. “A man who gives a woman credit.”

  He shouldn’t have felt surprise but he did. “Magonian men keep women under their control.”

  “Total control, if they can.”

  “There have to be women who don’t comply. Women like you.”

  She stared into the darkness toward the back of the cave. Shadows danced, thrown into the deep rock shelter by firelight. “I wasn’t always this way.” Conflict covered her features. “I had a breaking point.” She glanced back at him and abruptly changed the subject. “Are you certain you can’t guide me to Grimnald?”

  “I’m not taking you to Grimnald. Why do you persist in asking?”

  Mia shrugged. “You sound like the elders at Scribe school. They always wanted me to listen, take notes and never asking annoying questions. I was hoping Dragonian men would be different.”

  Eryk bristled. “Different than what? What are Magonian men like short of gutless, ruthless bastards?”

  Mia flinched as if he’d hit her. He narrowed his eyes and watched caution spread over her face.

  “Your judgment is harsh but I agree with it,” she said.

  He hadn’t expected that assessment. “You don’t like your people much, do you?”

  Her gaze fell to the cave floor. “Some of them. Not many.”

  Silence dropped down between them while she drank and ate. He watched her movements, intrigued and drawn to her grace and composure. Though dirty from her ordeal, she managed dignity where many women would be panicky. Admiration welled inside him and he ruthlessly squashed it.

  “For a woman who survived a shipwreck and is stranded in a strange land, you’re doing well,” he said grudgingly.

  She made a doubtful noise. “I’m good at putting on a face for the crowd.”

  “There’s only one of me here.” He lay back and her gaze skittered up and down his body. “No need to put on a show.”

  “There is always need for show.”

  Impatient, he said, “Dragonians say what they mean and mean what they say. Pretense is considered unhealthy.”

  She laid aside the water bladder and didn’t hide her surprise. “How refreshing. Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely. If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is a liar. Magonians are heralded as being great liars.”

  He half expected her to become angry but she simply said, “So I learned not long ago. Dragonians don’t lie?”

  “It is against a Daryk One’s code of honor.”

  She peered at him. “But not all Dragonians are Daryk Ones, are they? What makes a Daryk One?”

  “Dragonians who are extraordinary from birth.” He took pride in explaining what made him different than the average man. “We are stronger, taller, capable of great feats. We can slay dragons. We are warriors beyond compare.”

  She smiled. “Dragon slaying is an art?”

  He blinked as the effect of her grin filled his groin with heat. By the god, he needed to go somewhere and take his cock in hand. “There are many dragons that kill for meat. We protect the populace from such dragons.”

  “You didn’t slay the dragon we saw.”

  “Of course not. It didn’t try to harm us.”

  “Then you don’t kill for the fun of it, for amusement.”

  He frowned. “Never.”

  She edged away until she no longer sat near him on the pallet. She didn’t seem to like his proximity that much.

  “I read that,” she said. “About the dragon killing, I mean. That Dragonian people have lived with dragons for time so far back no one can remember the beginning.”

  Surprise made him sit up and stare at her. “Where did you hear that?”

  “The Chronicles of Magon.”

  He snorted. “The requirements of your god.”

  “Your disdain is clear. Do you mock other religions?”

  “Only Magonian religion.”

  Disappointment crossed her face. “Then you are no better than the people you despise.”

  Mia’s statement took him off guard but it went to his heart. Eryk couldn’t believe he was sitting here having this discussion with this odd woman. “Our country isn’t made up of one religion but many.”

  “Oh? I heard you all worship Draconus.”

  “Most do. Not all. Draconus is said to be the first one to construct our rules for life. But this world is filled with fables and myths. Guidelines for life but many shades of gray. Few people take it as complete truth. There is no truth but what lies within.” He tapped his chest with his fist. “There isn’t a black and white as your chronicle says. Many Dragonians need rules to be happy. I don’t. I follow my own rules.”

  A brilliant smile touched her lips and he almost went to her. Almost demanded a sweet kiss. If he kissed her perhaps she wouldn’t seem so irresistible anymore. So damn incredible.

  She sighed again and her downcast eyes and hands folded in her lap showed him a submission he didn’t expect. “The Chronicles of Magon is the guidebook for all Magonian life. How we should dress, what we should think, what we should say. You’re right. Magonia is a country of rules to keep people in their places.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. Boring.”

  She sat cross-legged and stared at a cave wall. “You’re a harsh judge.”

  “Old
news. I’ve been told that.”

  “And you’re proud of it.”

  “You’re reading me like an open book.”

  “You wear your pride plainly for all to see. How could I miss it?” She tilted her head and stared at him. “But your arrogance is as repugnant as your confidence is reassuring.”

  Shock bit him between the eyes. Her words didn’t hold a harsh tone but he also didn’t miss the condemnation behind them. “Daryk Ones are proud. We have a right to be. We’re not puppets.”

  “Hmm.” She looked away.

  Damn but the little chit wasn’t impressed. Women often fell all over him if they didn’t fear him outright. Having a woman dismiss him didn’t sit well.

  “I ran away from Magonia because of the Chronicles of Magon and much of what it stands for,” she said. “If you wish to insult Magonia you’re welcome to it. Boasting of Dragonian prowess won’t necessarily endear me to it.”

  She stood and stalked toward the back of the rock shelter. This place had seen occupation for many years off and on as a way station for travelers. Smoke had darkened the cavern roof and people had etched their initials into the walls and ceiling.

  Her fingers traced over one carving. “Dragonia has fascinated me since I was a child. I wondered if what I read was the truth but so much of it was lies. Now that I’m here nothing is going to stop me from understanding what is real.”

  He patted the bedroll next to him. “Sleep. You can seek the truth all you want when you arrive in Bardannia.”

  Her gaze snapped to his, hot with defiance he didn’t expect. She planted her hands on her hips. “You’re as commanding as you are arrogant.”

  Shadows from the fire danced over her and her beauty and strength did him in. When had he last met a woman who challenged him? He couldn’t remember. Her contrast of feminine modesty and hard-nosed determination drew him.

  He stood and stalked toward her, knowing he wouldn’t sleep unless he did one thing. He stopped in front of her but she didn’t flinch or move away. Another challenge that fired his blood. His cock rose and he knew if she looked closely enough she’d see the evidence.