As Günter sought to soothe the irate and impatient prince, Daynel donned her riding gear and hid herself within the heavy black bearskin cape. Ilesbet smeared soot over the girl’s fair skin to hide her in the darkness, and tucked her pale hair under the hood.
“I know you do not believe yet,” Ilesbet said softly as she stroked the face of the young woman whom she had known and helped raise as her own, “but this will protect you. This truly is a dragon fang.” She pressed her lips on the long ruby drop that hung around the younger girl’s throat.
“You have been the only mother I have ever known, and you have never led me astray. I will try to believe. I promise you.”
“Take care, my child. Your cousins are guarding the halls so that you may leave unseen by any servants.”
Daynel nodded and silently left, following the shadows that led her out to the rear of the castle. She held her breath as several servants walked past and continued to slip into corners and behind walls as she had done many times before. Only this time, it was not a game she played. This escape was for her life and her freedom. She was thankful of the darkness as she crept into the woods, knowing the new moon would provide the protection she needed to hide. Climbing into a tree, she released the shrill whistle of a Night Hawk, startled as the woods grew immediately silent as the threat of the predator was sounded. Ordinarily, her mimicry would have amused her, but not this time. She waited, holding her breath, for the sound of Firestar’s pounding hooves.
The large, black destrier paced anxiously in the saddling yard, his shape shifting in the shadows cast by torches that lit the corral under the moonless sky. Only his white, star-shaped flash was visible as he tossed his heavy head with an impatient snort. The war-trained animal stomped ironclad hooves loudly into the hard ground…waiting. He was saddled for a hunt and his skin quivered excitedly, prepared for the summons that would send him vaulting over the high gate. His ears perked forward as the sound of the Night Hawk echoed through the village. He had ridden with the girl before. He knew her call was different than that of the master’s, but he came to her with the same urgency and obedience nevertheless. With a loud cry that dared anyone to step into his path, Firestar charged the rails. In one fluid swoop, he launched his powerful body high into the air before thundering away into the blackness in answer to her call.
Daynel released a sigh of relief as the sound of the horse’s hooves reached her ears. He had come, just as Günter had promised! She slipped from out of the tree and held her hand out to the horse’s large mouth, pleased to see that the hostler had left him free of bit and bindings. She also noted that the saddlebags were filled with necessities, including cheese, dried meat, and water bags. And her weapons! She donned her leather trappings, boots, and her sword, comforted in the feel of the familiar items upon her body. Her quiver and arrows were placed across her back and her dagger in the side of her boot. She tossed the old clothing in a hollow tree and then gestured the horse to kneel so that she could climb upon his broad back. Once strapped in, Daynel clicked her tongue and Firestar rose. Simple pressure from her knees sent him on his way into the thickness of the night.
Hugging her body close to the horse’s neck, Daynel closed her eyes and willed her safety to the powerful beast beneath her thighs. She could feel the strong sinewy flesh move under the light leather saddle, the stretching of the muscles as Firestar bolted through the path he had taken since colt hood. He knew the passage well, and Daynel surrendered herself to his guidance, trusting that he would take her to a place where only one other, her beloved brother, could ever find her. She wrapped the reins around her wrists to help secure her in place and allowed herself to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep as Firestar began a rocking gallop toward his destination.
* * *
“After insulting me by preparing such a simple meal in the absence of the entire royal family, you dare to inform me that the little whore ran away? Ran away?” Ethan shouted, throwing the iron goblet to the floor. Several dogs growled from the corners of the dining hall, held back by handlers who waited for the signal by the captain.
“You will apologize for that remark immediately!” King Rufus shouted, jumping to his feet and leaning his large body forward on the table to glare at the angry, sweating, and red-faced man. Ethan’s entourage of twenty soldiers bared their swords, furthering the insult to the king’s hospitality. Günter drew his own sword and touched the edge across Ethan’s throat before even one blade could rise in the man’s defense.
“You shall obey my king and offer apologies for the insults of his daughter and princess of his people. That or,” Günter pressed the tip under the soft part of the blustering man’s throat, “I start carving you like a fattened cow.”
Ethan’s fear was evident, more so when it was brought to his attention that each of his soldiers was being held at bay by three more of the king’s men. He visibly gulped, the bobbing protrusion of his Adam’s apple giving him the appearance of a gobbling turkey. Günter’s sword pressed further and a tiny drop of blood began to spill.
“I am waiting,” he growled.
“I beg the pardon of the king and His royal court for my misspoken words regarding the princess Daynel. Please, Your Highness, forgive me. I know that a woman’s moon cycle is not of her own choosing,” Ethan spoke, his voice shaking with fright. Günter glanced at the dark expression on the king’s face and waited for the nod. When it came, he withdrew the sword from Ethan’s throat, but did not lower it to his side.
“You have abused the hospitality of my home and have added embarrassment to your family name this night, Ethan. You are to part company immediately and should I find you upon my lands again, I will not guarantee your safety.”
“This is an agreement! I am to wed…”
“Not to my daughter. You are a cruel and selfish man, Ethan. I will advise your father as to why the ceremony has been cancelled. I am certain he would more than understand.”
“You old, sour…”
“Take this boy from my sight and escort him and his men from these grounds. Keep watch that they fully depart and make no trouble for our country or our people,” Rufus demanded. “Summon the watch commanders and give them notice that these men are not permitted within the sight of a raven. Be gone with you!”
Ilesbet sat silently, carefully observing the activities. She feared for her father-in-law and her family, and she clutched her prayer beads tightly as the angry man was forcefully escorted outside the castle walls. She stood slowly and walked to where Rufus sat, his fist balled tightly as he fought to regain his peace.
“Father?” Ilesbet said, her hand gently touching his. “I fear for Daynel’s safety. He will not let her leave so easily. He now has vengeance he will wish to seek against you and our family.”
“Yes, my sweet daughter, I fear your words ring true,” Rufus sighed, squeezing her hand lovingly. “My son found a wise wife in you. Do you have a strategy in mind to share?”
“I do, Your Grace. A decoy. He believes women to be dimwitted and soft in the head. He will not believe Daynel capable of caring for herself and that she would head in the direction of the most comfort during her time of need. Let us send ravens out with false messages to lead him in a direction he would believe her to go. To her mother’s home in the west.”
“Gather paper and ink and I will pen them myself. And you, please…Pray for my child. Whatever you say to the dragon gods, please do so in her behalf.”
“I already am doing so. With all my heart. She is as a daughter to me as well.” Ilesbet bowed her head as he kissed her temple. “I also know that the dragon warrior will wrap his wings of protection about her. She wears the fang and it glows brightly next to her skin.”
“I am unaware of your religious signs, my dear,” Rufus said kindly, “but I welcome any encouragement you might have. What does this mean?”
“It means, Father,” Ilesbet looked to the sky, “that the dragon gods have chosen her to do their bidding. They will see
her safe.”
King Rufus sighed. “I never thought I would see the day that I would pity the gods. I hope they know what they are in for if they wish Daynel to cooperate with them.”
Chapter Three
Temper roused, tainted with anger and humiliation, Ethan withdrew his sword from the heart of a western farmer who had offered the use of his well for the soldier’s refreshment. The snarling man watched as the body slid to the ground and then glared at the silent soldiers around him.
“Find a way to backtrack and find where she has gone. I want her brought to me, intact. I intend to have my way with her before she meets my sword for shaming me.”
“Do you intend to pierce her with both your swords, Your Highness?” his personal guard asked jovially. Ethan eyed him with a half-smile. “Aye, that I do. I only have need of that cunt first to satisfy the conditions of my royal father for an heir and gain my place on the throne. After she bears a child, perhaps I might offer her up to the men who find her to use afterward.”
“That is an excellent incentive for the men to hurry their search. If I may be excused so that I might get started for you, my prince?”
“Go, and have someone bring me food and wine. Surely this farm has more than old eggs and a sow,” he said, distastefully staring at the farmer’s wife who was being ravaged unmercifully by several old soldiers. He strolled over to her abused, naked body and laughed in her face as she mumbled the words to an ancient prayer.
“The gods aren’t going to do you any good, old woman. So don’t waste your time praying to them,” he said mockingly as he ran the edge of his blade across her throat. Wiping it off on the carcass of her husband, he again demanded food and wine.
* * *
Daynel slowly opened her eyes to the glint of early morning sunlight as it washed across the horizon. She had been riding for nearly a week, sleeping in the saddle and only dismounting to relieve herself. The horse seemed never to tire, conditioned to ride for long periods while burdened with heavy armor and an immense rider. He slowed his gallop as needed to feed, drink, and sleep, seemingly urged on by an unknown force that gave the animal strength to continue to his destination. Sometime during the sixth night, Firestar had slowed his course and stopped on the edge of a tinkling stream that was housed by a gazebo of bent trees. It was here that he bent his knees and snorted for her to dismount.
The woman was grateful that her body was used to spending hours on horseback, for she could not begin to imagine the aches that she would be enduring otherwise. She slid to the mossy ground and groaned, reaching to rub the cramped muscles of her shoulders and neck. Firestar slowly lifted himself to his feet and began to graze contentedly upon the tender grass. After dunking her head under the cold water of the stream and satisfying her thirst, Daynel dug through the saddlebag and removed the last chunk of hard cheese and a wineskin.
“Nothing like being prepared, huh?” she said, smiling as she removed a tiny metal box in which burned a small coal. She quickly made a small fire, careful to hide the smoke from view, and melted the cheese upon the tip of her narrow dagger. “This is really a cruel joke,” she commented to the horse. “I hate cheese. More now than I ever had.”
“Then you don’t mind if I offer you better fare?” a low voice asked from behind her. Daynel jumped to her feet, her short sword aimed unwavering at the stranger’s throat. He raised his hand.
“No fear, child. I am not a threat. See? Even the grand warhorse pays me no mind.”
Mouth hanging open, Daynel glanced at Firestar, who unhurriedly chomped upon the vegetation on the stream bank. It was almost as though the animal did not even notice the man’s presence.
“Who are you and what do you want of me?” the woman demanded fearlessly, stepping away from the tall, lanky form. He removed his hood, revealing a shaggy mass of curly brown hair and a scraggly, unkempt beard. His smile revealed white, even teeth.
“I am sent to guide you, child. The gods have called for me.”
“Your name, stranger! And I believe not in the gods.”
“Your belief neither makes something the truth or a falsehood. Lower your sword and join me.”
“I am no fool. I do not give away my safety to a stranger who happens upon me when my life is being threatened.”
“She was correct. Indeed, you are a stubborn girl. I am to show you this.”
He reached out his hand and turned it that his fingers opened to reveal his palm. Upon the surface was a tattoo. Daynel frowned, leaning in to stare at the three intertwined triangles surrounded by a circle.
“That is Günter’s signet! How…”
“As you know, his wife, Ilesbet, is the priestess to the people of The Dragon. Her faith has protected your family for many years and today she has sent me to ensure your safety.”
“And should I refuse?” Daynel asked suspiciously, still bothered by Firestar’s lack of interest in the stranger’s presence. The horse should have pounded the stranger to shreds with his iron-covered hooves by now.
“I am a very patient man, Princess, but I am also a soldier of my faith. I have been commanded to guard and protect you and that I shall do. With, or without, your cooperation. The priestess instructed me to use whatever means required to keep you safe, even from your own pride. I am prepared to do so.”
Daynel glared at him, following his dark brown stare as he stood far above her height and looked down upon her lithe form. The intent in his eyes remained unchanged as he felt the tip of her weapon against his breastbone. Daynel swallowed nervously. Except for her brother, she had never faced an opponent who had no fear of her sword.
“Plunge that into my heart if you can, child. The Eye protects me as it also guides you. As long as the Eye stays intact, that weapon cannot harm a follower of the faith.”
“I don’t believe in senseless killing anyway,” Daynel faltered, feeling her hand begin to shake.
He smiled gently and lifted his hand to the blade, slowly pressing it downward. He then loosened her clutch from the pommel before he slid the sword back into the scabbard. The man then brushed his tattooed hand over the swell of her right cheek and cupped her face softly.
“You are safe, little princess. We still have much traveling to do, but can take rest for this night. Now eat heartily. Your feast awaits you.”
“Feast? I would hardly call hard yellow cheese a feast. It’s…” Daynel’s eyes opened wide as she beheld a basket filled with warm, crusty bread, a wooden bowl of roasted quail in steaming hot broth, and slabs of melon and soft white cheese upon a platter. “Where did this come from?”
“Faith, child. All that one requires is first born of faith. See? Even your steed eats tender shoots in peace.”
“Have you bewitched my horse? What kind of dark magic is this?” Daynel shouted, pulling away and brandishing her sword once again in fear.
“This is your first lesson, the acknowledgement that dark magic exists. In doing so, you also acknowledge the presence of white magic. I have no time to continue this discussion. Evil pursues you and we must make haste. Eat, sleep, and then we begin our journey.”
“Where?” Daynel demanded, trying to ignore the complaints of hunger her stomach issued as the smell of the food wafted through the sweet air.
“The priestess has commanded that I take you to the Forests of Hiding. There, you will stay until the threat upon you is either eliminated or detoured.”
Daynel felt her heart clutch in her chest. No one who ventured into the Forests of Hiding had ever returned. The hooded man frowned again, pointing at the food.
“You will eat now, Princess. And put away your toy. You are wearing my patience thin.”
“My ‘toy’ can easily slice through your throat, Eye or no Eye on its pommel. I do not eat with one whom I don’t even know a name. Folklore has it that if you share a meal with a stranger, that stranger will kill you in your sleep.”
“That same wives tale also states that little girls who dare to defy the ones placed
in charge of their lives tend to suffer with very tender and warm back ends. I am given reason to understand that you are a recent recipient of such, yes?”
The man took her silence to mean her confirmation rather than humiliation, and he handed her a plate loaded with piping hot, fragrant food.
“It is well we have an understanding now, is it not? Go on,” he urged, nodding toward her plate, “you will find it quite good.”
Indeed she did. The hot food in her tummy filled her with a tingling warmth and comfort. A feeling much different also arose, growing into an ache that rested in the recesses of her womanhood. What caused that feeling to awaken? Was it the low resonance of his voice, the fear for her life? Or, perhaps the image of her backside being bared as she was thrust over his thighs? Whatever it was that urged the awakening, Daynel found herself wanting for more.
* * *
As Daynel’s mount trotted silently beside the cloaked man, her mind was filled with confusion, including the simple question as to where he had been hiding the tall chestnut mare and how Ilesbet had sent her instructions. The mare nuzzled against Firestar affectionately as they rode through the rays of the early morning sunlight, causing the magnificent animal to snort and sidestep to avoid her. The man chuckled, watching the interaction between the two and the glower upon Daynel’s dirt-smudged face.
“They often say that horse and their owners are much alike. See how your mount shirks the invitation to talk? He is as sullen as you are, Princess.”
“And as intelligent. He knows not to trust a stranger who will not even share a name.”
“Is that what is making you behave as though you have a thorn in your breeches?” he laughed, the sound echoing down the long, empty road.
“Amongst other things,” Daynel snarled, not about to tell this stranger that she had personal needs to attend to, and ones that did not invite an audience.
“Perhaps a warm bath and sleep will brighten your mood. We should arrive at our next site within the hour. You may rest there as long as you require.”
Dare to Defy Page 3