Dare to Defy

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by Breanna Hayse


  “What about being followed?”

  “Perhaps it is time for your first lesson. Look upon your pommel, Daynel,” the man said softly, pulling his horse to halt. Daynel narrowed her eyes and drew out her sword. A gasp escaped her lips as a slight glow was seen through the purple stone set atop the hilt. A warm haze surrounded her face as she stared into the center slit. Daynel’s eyes widened as it blinked at her, no longer stone but an eye of a Living Being.

  “We have entered the Forest of Hiding,” the man said with a smile. “Magic is pouring into the Eye and it will give you the ability to See. Meet its gaze and do not pull away.”

  Günter had always said that Daynel possessed more curiosity than sense, and his words proved true at that moment when she defiantly locked her stare upon the Eye. Suddenly floods of images pierced her mind and she screamed, whipping her head away to break contact. It held her there, suspended in a whirlwind of images, voices, sensations. Time became an ancient memory as she was given Knowledge. Somewhere, her body stayed aware of the slender, warm hand upon her elbow that steadied her shaking. She felt herself being lifted and lowered to the ground. Something cool was held against her lips, accompanied by a soft, whispered word…drink.

  “Shhh, slowly, child. Slowly. I am sorry. I did not know how to warn an unbeliever of the Eye’s power. Are you well?”

  “What happened?” Daynel asked, lifting her hands to her forehead. “There are so many images, emotions, and sensations, and some are…” She suddenly reddened, halting her statement.

  “The Eye chooses the ones to give Sight to. As for sensation, I have never heard of such an incident. Describe to me what you see and feel.”

  “I…uh…I can’t remember,” Daynel lied. “How long was I gone from this earth? How many days have passed?”

  “Your mind was absent for only a few seconds. Are you certain you cannot remember anything in particular that you had seen?

  “It was too intertwined. I remember nothing clearly and am unable to describe. Let us go now. The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner I may sleep off this dreadful nightmare.”

  The man merely shook his head and then returned to his horse, watching her carefully as she climbed atop Firestar. She sat straight upon his back with an expression of stubborn rebellion. He lifted a prayer to the gods for an extra dose of patience and continued down the narrow forest path.

  Daynel gripped her reins, clenching her teeth painfully. If only her guide knew just how much she had lied to him! How she could feel every inch of the long, lean body of a darkly tanned man that pressed against the alabaster paleness of her own, the light and darkness blending into one as their limbs meshed together in sexual fervor. The man engulfed her mouth, tasting her as his rough hand slid boldly up the length of her thigh, hip, and to the side of her breast. His fingers brushed over the pink nipple and the tiny nub jumped to attention as though startled awake following a long slumber. Her neck arched, inviting his lips to the delicate flesh of her throat. His long fingers grazed the tender skin, preparing it for his caress. A soft moan whispered from her throat as his mouth sucked her skin gently, slowing turning her body until his teeth sunk gently into the base of her neck.

  She arched her back like a cat, offering herself to a deeper bite and a claim of ownership. Between her thighs, her wetness built and the scent of desire permeated the air. The man growled as he ran his long fingers along her moist slit and he plunged his tongue between her teeth, drinking her as before. He then suddenly pulled away, staring into her face from arms’ distance as he held her upper arms in his grasp. Deep, violet eyes flashed with anger and Daynel released a loud plea through silent lips. Her body was effortlessly lifted and placed across solid thighs as big as tree trunks, and she felt her exposed posterior being hoisted up by the knee beneath her pelvis.

  Like the playing back of a memory, Daynel watched the doings of her body at the same time she experienced the intimate activities. Her body froze with anticipation as the mountainous man lifted his right palm high before descending into a vibrating clap as it flattened onto the snow-white peaks of her hindquarters. She lifted her head to cry out protest and a second slap was released, blanching the sweet underside of the gentle curve of her right cheek. The man’s lips moved as he again discharged a third, fourth, and fifth iron-palmed swat upon the unprotected softness of her bottom. He appeared to be scolding her, but his words were unheard.

  Daynel held her breath, her chest tightening as she continued to struggle against him. His massive arms readjusted her across his lap, and pushed her head closer to the ground. His fingers probed the copious juices flowing from her body and slipped inside her. A smile broadened his face as her virgin muscles clutched hungrily to his thick digit, and he pressed deeper within her. Daynel lifted her bottom higher to allow his hand access to female treasures, and mewed as the tip of a finger began to circle lazily upon the tiny head of her swollen nub.

  An audible groan caused the stranger to turn to her, shaking her arm and jarring her to wakefulness. “What are you seeing? Tell me!” he demanded, concern written across his face.

  “It’s nothing! I slumbered atop my horse, that is all!” Daynel snapped. “I am tired and hungry, and wish only a full stomach and good sleep. See that I get that and all will be well.”

  “I am with you to protect you, not serve you, my lady,” the man growled. “I call you princess for courtesy only, but my loyalty is to my priestess. She alone commands me.”

  Daynel’s body shook as she gripped Firestar’s sides with her knees, trying to clear her head of the smoldering image of an unknown man ravaging her body. She finally turned to her escort.

  “What does Ilesbet call you?”

  “She is my priestess, mother of my faith. She calls me son,” the man said, the twinkle in his eye obvious as he knew his response would annoy the young woman.

  “Son? Of course she does. What does Günter call you? He is not a priest and therefore has no claim to the title of Father,” Daynel snorted impatiently.

  “Baldric. I am also known as Eagle, for I have the ability to see all at any distance.”

  “If the crown prince felt you were one who should be called by your given name, then I will do so as well. How does Ilesbet give you instructions, Baldric?”

  “She sends them through dreams. She is very powerful, child. More than most realize. Her magic is…”

  “I do not believe in magic,” Daynel interrupted. “How much further do we have to go before we reach this bath you spoke of?”

  “It awaits you as we speak,” Baldric said, parting some vines from before him and stepping his horse aside so that she might enter. Daynel slid from Firestar’s back, glancing up at the man before she walked into a small trove laden with ferns and flowers. She grinned as she observed the steam rising from a small crevice in the mossy ground.

  “This looks delightful,” Daynel said as her horse began to graze on the new grasses beside a gurgling creek. Baldric dismounted and held the reins as he offered a small bow.

  “I give you a ladies’ bath designed by the gods themselves. I will be here guarding as you enjoy, Princess. Come, horse, allow me remove your tack.”

  Daynel watched, astonished, as Firestar silently followed the man from the bathing area, leaving her alone with only the beauty of the gods’ creations and her own thoughts. Daynel could barely wait for the heavy vines to drop behind her before peeling off her worn leathers and soiled underclothes. Carefully, she eased into the tiny, deep pool, sinking to her neck in its delicious, hot embrace. The pressure of the moving water below her caused a tiny whirlpool of bubbling liquid that gently massaged and soothed her aching muscles. After dipping her hair beneath the surface, she grabbed a handful of pink soapwort root and willow leaves, and crushed them against her scalp. The lather was soft, removing the tension from her, as well as the grime. She washed out her clothing well, and crushed lavender flowers into the cloth. She inhaled the scent of the fragrant flowers deeply, fi
nally allowing herself to simply float and relax.

  Relaxation did not come quickly as the mental image of her escort plagued her. How it irked her that she had not yet seen the face that he was hiding behind the rough beard and long, unkempt hair. There was only one certainty in this puzzle, and that was the man she had been given vision of—the one whom she felt touch her body—was not the same as Baldric. They differed tremendously in build and carriage and her unknown lover’s eyes were the same violet hue of her pommel stone.

  Daynel inhaled as her mind then drifted back to her vision. Perhaps he was nothing more than a fantasy drummed up when she needed to feel protected and guided? This she partially doubted, for she knew for certain that the spanking she had experienced in the vision was not one she would have desired. Daynel reached for the ruby fang-shaped stone that hung about her throat, fingering the sharp tip thoughtfully. A fragment of hope inside of her wished that the childhood stories Ilesbet had told her were true, and that some form of magic really existed in the harsh world in which they lived. But she was a realist, like her twin brothers. The only magic that was left in life was that which fueled the imagination of children. And children had to grow up quickly in the world that they lived in.

  “Have you always required seeing with your eyes to believe, Princess?”

  Daynel sharply turned toward Baldric’s voice. “Do you always make a habit sneaking up behind women while they are privately bathing?”

  “I find it interesting that you chose to ask that question rather than how I knew what you were contemplating,” he chuckled, still hidden behind the vines. “Would you like to know the identity of the man who came to you in Sight?”

  “I do not know of any man of whom you speak.”

  “I believe he is the one destined for you, chosen by the gods themselves, to be your mate. The priestess has proclaimed that you shall go on a journey to find him, and yourself. He is the dragon warrior.”

  “Baldric, I love Ilesbet like a mother. She raised me since the age of five and I grew up with her children, was taught at her knee, and instructed in the education of life. She has never pressed her faith upon me and I knew only of it in passing. Even Günter, who took care of me more as a daughter than a sister, has kept his faith in silence. Why now? Why this sudden declaration of power in these dragon gods?” she asked sullenly, kicking the water. “I believe in only one god, and it comes from within myself.”

  “Your strength and cunning come from within, child,” Baldric said gently, sitting on a boulder across from her and ignoring her nakedness as her long, pale hair floated around her small, submerged breasts. “But there is more in this world than what you hold within you. The evil that is seeking you does so for a reason. It does not want you to discover your power.”

  “The only power I would have as queen in that kingdom is obedience. And I am not good at that,” Daynel chuckled sarcastically.

  “You are mistaken on both your beliefs. You will find that obedience will come easily for you as your heart is opened to learning truth. The power you would hold is the ability to move the kingdom away from the darkness and destruction that is born of pride and greed. That kingdom is doomed to fail if the prince becomes king. It must not happen.”

  “Other than killing him, what can be done?”

  “He is a tool of evil, Princess. The tool might be destroyed, but the source of evil still exists. You will be the one to eliminate it. And that is what he fears the most. That is why he is trying to lay his claim upon you. Once he beds you and you show evidence of carrying his heir, he becomes king and has no further use of you. The southern king’s condition of inheritance includes the bearing of a child, not that the child survives. It must not happen.”

  “Baldric, the southern kingdom is not my concern. It is a thousand leagues away and…”

  “The northern and southern kingdom are to be made whole once again,” Baldric said thoughtfully, plucking a flower from the ground. He held it up. “I can remove each petal from this stem and the flower will lose its beauty, but it is still a flower. The kingdoms, north and south, must be united again. When the parting happened…”

  “No history lessons, thank you!” Daynel scoffed. “I heard them all. Twin brothers, opposite as night and day in both appearance and behavior, fought over the throne and over the same woman. The dark brother stole the woman away in the night and traveled south, and because of his need for her he built a wall to separate him from his brother and to keep her as his own. The wall did not protect her, though, for the dark brother’s jealousy left her dead by his own hands after she birthed a fair-haired son. He refused to believe that it was he who fathered it, and he threw the child into the sea. I listened to the tale.”

  “And the giant wall exists to this day, symbolizing the betrayal. The present king of the south and your father wish to remove the symbol of that wall, knowing that a kingdom joined is stronger. But the present prince of the south would not release his claim of the throne…”

  “And Günter does not desire to rule in the manner of an emperor,” Daynel finished. “I still do not see how I could have made a difference.”

  “You will. I promise. Now finish your bath while I prepare food.”

  Chapter Four

  “How is my sister?” Günter asked anxiously.

  His wife sat before her altar, eyes closed in prayer. “He is searching for her and is leaving a wake of blood in his path.”

  “We need to stop him. He will kill her!”

  “Husband,” Ilesbet said softly, opening her eyes and turning toward him. “The gods have their plans and have given their instructions. We must allow the events to play as they see fit. Trust them, my love.”

  “I cannot,” Günter said shamefully, head bowed. “The only trust I have is in my sword and my wits. I beg your forgiveness for this weakness.”

  “Then trust me. Feel no shame when we acknowledge our weakness for, in that alone, is also the admission of our strength.” Ilesbet stroked his face, her indigo eyes gazing lovingly upon him. “She is as a daughter to me as well. She will experience no harm if we allow the gods to conduct her journey. Come and allow me to distract you from your worries.”

  Günter raised his eyebrow as the woman stood and allowed her diaphanous robe to slip silently to the floor.

  “My darling, as much as I love your body, you cannot always think that you can…distract…my…thoughts…” His voice groaned as she knelt at his feet and ran her hands up the inside of his thighs and then around to cup his firm buttocks in her hands.

  “I do not think…I know,” she grinned playfully, tugging at his stays.

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “You have mischief in your eyes, beloved. This is neither the time nor the place to defy me.”

  “When it comes to your body, I dare defy you every moment I have opportunity,” Ilesbet grinned, running her lips against the left side of his neck.

  “Ilesbet, no. Not now. Woman! Stop this,” Günter demanded as she rolled her palms under his vest and ran the pads of her thumbs over his chest, pausing to tempt his nipples.

  Ilesbet raised her eyebrow, a smirk on her face. “No,” she said simply.

  “It has been too long since I had to force discipline upon you, wife. Obey me!” came the order, which was promptly ignored as she unlaced his shirt and pressed her lips to the center of his chest.

  With a throaty growl, Günter snatched Ilesbet’s wrists in his large hands and pulled her arms high in the air, making her stand upon her toes before him. Her breasts quivered as they were stretched, begging for attention. His eyes roamed over her voluptuous curves, remembering the pleasure every soft inch brought to his bed. But she was being deliberately disobedient, challenging him in a way she had not done since the birth of their first son. He had forgotten her demands of the past. Demands for pain, as well as pleasure.

  Ilesbet’s eyes met his, daring him to proceed. A fire rose within him, tempting his warrior spirit. He ro
se her higher, easily lifting her from the ground by her wrists.

  “You wish pain today, my love. It has been many years since you have brought this upon yourself. Do you wish to tell me your reason?”

  “I need no reason for my desire. The children no longer require a nursemaid and I may return to the longings of my youth. I trust you not to harm me,” Ilesbet said huskily, the strain in her shoulders sending waves of sensation through the length of her body. “Please. Give me what I need.”

  Günter stared at her for a moment and then silently released her, settling her bare feet upon the cold floor. “Prepare yourself. We will leave for the thicket shortly.”

  Ilesbet wobbled, her excitement growing as she anticipated the long-awaited event in the hidden thicket. He had last taken her there for discipline after she had overly indulged in sacramental wine and had displayed herself in a manner that displeased him greatly. That was well over fifteen years passed. She reached for a cape to cover her naked body, determined to find a way to lightly raise his ire and help distract both of them from the grim situation that plagued the kingdom. Her ploy worked. Gunther’s frown deepened when he realized that she had failed to dress properly or show any concern for her plight. She responded by simply lifting her chin higher and tilting her head.

  Günter glared at her, his blood boiling with both an unusual anger and need. He knew she was working her magic upon him, stirring him to a place that he had not been in many years. He simply pointed to the direction of the stables and silently followed her out, cringing as her bare feet trampled over the hard gravel. She appeared not to notice and kept her head held high, nodding with a smile as servants knelt in deference to her. Günter mused about this observation, wondering the last time a castle servant bowed to him.

  He also contemplated the number of people who maintained the old beliefs in the northern kingdom. Ilesbet said that the dragon gods fed upon faith and prayers, needing both to keep their magic strong enough to enter into the earthly plain. Were there enough left of the faithful to rally prayer and support to protect his sister and the future of the two kingdoms? Images from his frequent nightmares suddenly snared his mind, haunting terrors that only Ilesbet knew of. Her nightly reassurance of her gods’ power failed to calm his pounding heart when the images of death and destruction screamed around his sleeping mind. He envied her confidence in her faith and the power she held. He also thanked the gods that he had her as his.

 

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