The bond blazed with power, amplified by the energy of her Source as she silently called out to him as loud and strong as she could. Though her crazy captors had her on the road a full day, RuArk would find her. She just knew he would.
Chapter Eight
They’d been tracking the Noman for three days when RuArk was yanked out of his sleep. His hands silently gripped the hilt of a dagger as he squinted into the darkness. He held his head and body completely still while his eyes roamed left and right across the small clearing where they camped. He saw nothing but trees silhouetted against the night sky. Heard only the breathing of his men as they relaxed in sleep.
He feigned a snore and a grunt while the hackles on the back of his neck danced. Body poised for battle while pretending to quiet down in deep slumber, RuArk allowed his senses to reach out into the darkness. They told him what his eyes could not. Blood. Putrid, foul, old blood. On breath. On clothing.
Noman.
The air, mild and humid, held the stench like spoiled fruit on a rotten tree. He waited. The scent faded. No one and nothing appeared. But the danger was out there somewhere. He could feel it as keenly as he felt the misty dew floating across the grass against his skin.
Then the life bond flared within, pulled at his insides and lit up his consciousness like a blaring distress beacon.
Rhia.
The real threat centered on her and she called out to him urgently.
The thought of Rhia in danger pushed his temper up. On the brink of tossing away his legendary self-control, he forced himself to be still, reached for his Source, then called on his Gift of Vision. And unfortunately, the Gift did not disappoint him. Suddenly, everything was clear. They were being baited. Noman allowed them to get just close enough to follow their tracks before disappearing again. He shot out of his blankets and called to his men.
“Get up! We break camp and ride east in five minutes.”
“Wind Storm, what is the matter? What has happened?” asked a groggy Dalmore as he rolled from his blankets with a double-edged long knife at the ready.
Gaian were a dangerous lot, sleepy or not.
“Rhia is in danger. This entire hunt has been nothing but a distraction.” Five minutes were up. He vaulted into the saddle and headed to the road at breakneck speed, a pack of angry warriors at his back.
* * * * *
Rhia jerked out of a restless sleep when a body fell heavily across her hips. She lay completely still, stifling a yelp as the blood of an unfortunate person poured through a gaping wound in his chest. The sticky fluid oozed onto and through her clothes and ran freely down her side, forming a thick puddle under her back. The hot liquid cooled quickly in the early morning air and made her skin crawl.
She frantically reached for the bond as she had several times during the night. ‘RuArk!’ she called over and over. A familiar awareness brushed against her mind, and the next instant he was there, larger than life. And from her position on the ground, underneath a stiffening body, he seemed really large!
The corpse tossed aside, he cut the bonds from her wrists.
“RuArk!” she yelled. He moved slightly to the left as she rolled to the right, and a heavy curved ax hit the ground between them with a sick thud.
Without bothering to look back, RuArk brought his blade around in a sharp arc, catching the ax wielder in the midsection with one hand, while he had a long knife at the ready to deflect another blade aimed at his neck.
Rhia wasted no time. Relieving the corpse next to her of his weapon, she joined the battle. She turned to see Linc with his back to Marth, the two warriors fighting off three of the Draeman. The lush leaves and foliage hid another soldier sneaking along the wide limbs of a huge tree overhead. She ran as fast as she could, trying not to slip on the blood soaked leaves covering the ground. The sneaking soldier swung down by his knees intent on planting a long knife firmly in the skull of one of the O’dann brothers.
Snatching a bow from a fallen foe as she ran, she let fly. Her aim was true, thanks to all of Sharyn’s tutoring with the weapon. The O’dann’s were a bit startled when they’d dispatched what they thought was the last of their enemies just to watch another fall from a tree not three feet away from them with a lovely piece of jewelry firmly imbedded in his neck—Rhia’s arrow.
* * * * *
By the time the sun was fully up, the fighting was almost done. There was only one more piece of business to be handled.
Bryan and RuArk faced each other, blades drawn. Rhia knew it would be no contest. The look in Bryan’s eyes said that he knew it, too. But if he was going to die he would do so bravely. Or at least appear to be brave.
“Do your worst, you filthy barbaric Gaian!” he taunted.
RuArk gave him no response. Instead, he turned and took in the bruises and blood, her tattered clothing, and dirty boots. Rhia knew in that moment that he was remembering a similar time—her face, bloodied and bruised the night he’d thrown this same piece of trash out of her apartments in Draema Proper.
“Rhia, come to me.”
She made her way through the wall of warriors that had encircled RuArk and stepped to his side, relieved that none had fallen in the fighting. “Yes, RuArk?”
“I have the right to kill this man for laying hands on you. However, seeing how he has wronged you most gravely, I will give that right over to you, if you wish.”
Her eyes traveled up to RuArk’s unreadable face. She could tell, could feel there was something more to his question. Was he asking if she wanted to fight Bryan because he felt she should, or because he hoped she’d let him do the honors as her Protector? Or... Hell. she had no idea. And just how was she supposed to think at a time like this? Emotions soared as adrenaline and bloodlust pulsed through her body, making truly rational thought almost impossible.
RuArk repeated the question, his voice hard, cold as he looked Bryan up and down, “Rhia, do you wish to challenge him?”
Her amber cat eyes peered into Bryan’s cold gray ones. “He’s mine, RuArk.”
One of the warriors found and tossed her her blade. Snatching it deftly out of the air, shoulders squared, Rhia stepped into the circle and laid out the terms of the challenge.
“Bryan, I challenge you for kidnapping me and for your previous attempts to rape me.” Every Gaian warrior growled at those words. “For beating me, and basically for being an all-around bastard. The rules—no Draeman weapons, no laser cannons. Blades only.” He didn’t answer her right away, and looked almost puzzled.
“Are you trying to say I’ve done something wrong?” he asked. Sarcasm? Not a good thing right before you died. She knew the idiot was goading her and it took all her will power not to skewer him on the spot and be done with it.
She ignored him and said, “If I win, you will...” The words died in her throat as he engaged without warning.
A slender blade flashed out at her midsection. She recovered quickly and countered with a smooth strike of her own. Their blades met with a loud clang in the still morning air. He poured all of his strength into each thrust, each stroke. Rhia welcomed it, letting him dish out all he wished while she measured, observed, and calculated the moves that would take him out.
When she didn’t die immediately, he grew wild and reckless, yelling obscenities while she continued in her smooth, unhurried style. To this point, Rhia had only blocked Bryan’s blade, now she would give him something to block.
Moving forward to meet his thrusts as before, but this time she continued her advance with precision at twice the speed of her opponent. Bryan was quickly flustered and bleeding, able to block only one of every three strokes.
A loud yelp resounded through the trees when cold steel cut him across the chest. His heavy battle tunic now hung in two large pieces. He continued to curse her, but she heard nothing, felt nothing, except the need to finish this.
Her next stroke sent him reeling. Before he could regain his footing, Rhia’s fist shot out and punched him square in the eye.
“Now we’re even, you creep.” She spat on the ground at his feet as the pale flesh below his eye began to immediately redden and swell. “When they find your cold dead body, at least it will have a little color to it.”
He ran at her with a wild, blood curdling yell.
Spinning deftly to the side with her sword trailing behind her, she caught him across the back of his thighs as he went flying by. He turned back toward her screaming, his hand reaching for his hamstrings, where skin and muscle were sliced clean through.
She’d taunted him with death during their little fight, but she didn’t really want to be the one to take his life. With her blade pressed to his throat, she ground out, “Do you yield?” She hoped he wouldn’t push her into actually killing him.
“Never!” he screamed, as the blood flowed freely from his body. Hobbling pitifully, he yelled back, “Do you yield, you bitch!”
Sword lowered, she waited.
He raised his blade, but the stroke never completed. The next moment, Bryan Collaidh was face down in the dirt, his throat cleanly sliced through. Rhia wiped her blade on his ripped and torn clothing and walked away, leaving his body where it fell.
Seeking solitude, she found a quiet place away from everyone and sat down on the ground, her weapon at her feet and thoughts scattered to the four winds.
She looked up when RuArk squatted next to her just as Bryan’s stiff body was being dragged away. The man’s cocky swagger was now a thing of the past, and his pristine black-on-black clothing now covered with dust, grime and blood.
RuArk reached for her, enfolded her in his arms and whispered against her filthy hair. “You fought well, Rhia. I understand how you are feeling. In time it will pass.”
“God, RuArk, I don’t know what to feel. Why did he make me do it? Why did he make it necessary to kill him?”
“I am relieved he is being dragged away instead of you. That his family will receive news of his death rather than your father, and your friends, and...me.” She felt a slight shiver course through him as he held her.
“I feel so stupid. I actually fell for his ruse and walked into this nightmare. Oh, RuArk, I’m so sorry,” she wailed. “This is all my fault. I’ve been in too many fights to count, but never have I been the cause of one. I mean, all those Draeman soldiers that died today, it could have been the other way around, you know? Then what would I have done? It’s just... Hell, I don’t know.” She sighed against his chest and stifled a loud sob. She might refuse to allow a warrior to see her cry, but right now this was her husband, and she would allow him to see her truly, emotionally naked.
After a few minutes of blessed silence, her muffled words sounded against his chest. “Are you mad at me, RuArk?”
“Yes, I am very angry with you,” he replied softly.
“But RuArk...” she pleaded.
“It is a conversation for another time, Rhia.”
“I know I shouldn’t have left the security of the township by myself, but I thought that my father...”
“Rhia. Leave it.” He paused, hard gray eyes conveying he was much closer to losing it than she’d thought. “I have never seen you in a true fight before, other than the time you tried to kill me in your father’s training pavilion. Right now, let us thank the Ancestors that you are indeed as deft with a blade as you are with those feet of yours.”
Eye closed, she felt his jaw move and knew he was smiling.
So why didn’t she feel any better?
Chapter Nine
With the dead Draeman left to rot in their chosen place of treachery, Rhia rode close to her husband. She knew she sounded tired and defeated as she told him everything, even how she’d snuck away from the safety of their home, duped by her father’s supposed letter and Bryan’s feigned kindness.
“Give me this letter,” RuArk demanded quietly.
She took it from the pocket inside her tunic and handed it to him. When he noted the official seal, his eyes blazed with anger. “I understand why you would believe this, Rhia, but I do not see why you would have so little faith in our warriors that you would not bring any of them into your confidence. Do you trust any of our people sworn to protect you?”
Boy, he really knew how to make her feel low.
“I wasn’t thinking along those lines, RuArk,” she said with a sigh. She sat up straighter in her saddle, looking directly ahead, trying to keep the stiffness in her spine when all she really wanted was to slide off the back of her horse, roll on the ground and sob.
Instead, she snapped, “I was told you left strict orders that I was not allowed outside the township walls. Who’s going to disobey you, RuArk? Tell me, who? I had to get out any way I could. My father’s life was in danger, may still be in danger for all we know.”
Then came a pitiful wail from behind.
“Help! He’s going to kill me, Rhia, please help me!” Ricard, the damn lunatic, looked as pitiful as he sounded as his eyes darted back and forth between the two warriors he rode sandwiched between.
His face was calm, but RuArk’s eyes glittered so dangerously, she almost flinched when he turned to her and asked none too nicely, “What is his part in this, Rhia?”
Face a granite mask of calm, his eyes continued to smolder and flare anew as Rhia told of Bryan and Ricard’s treachery. When her story was finished, RuArk called a halt.
Rhia’s blood froze in her veins when her husband lifted his face to the sky and released a blood curdling war cry, spooking several horses, including her own. Sidestepping wildly, Moonlight threw his head back and whinnied. By the time she got him in hand, RuArk had dismounted faster than Rhia had ever seen a man get off a horse and moved with lethal determination toward Ricard.
“Untie him!” RuArk bellowed as he approached. She ran after him, calling his name, begging him to stop. RuArk didn’t slow as the stoic expressions of the warriors melted in astonishment at the Wind Storm’s unusual display of temper.
“RuArk! RuArk, please don’t kill him. You can’t...”
He rounded on her. “You will cease to tell me what I can and cannot do, woman. Back on your horse. Now.”
Visibly startled and eyes wide with terror, Ricard tumbled from his mount, landed flat on his face and wheezed as the breath was knocked out of his chest. No one, not even Rhia, moved to help him as RuArk’s boots came scarily close to the man’s face.
“Tell me your plans for my woman, worm,” RuArk gritted through his teeth, towering over the man. Linc and Marth moved to flank him, giving him nowhere to run. RuArk’s hands were clasped deliberately behind his back. But Rhia knew better. Her huge warrior husband was as quick as the wind and would be on Ricard faster than he could draw his next breath.
“I had a vision from the Dreadlord. He came to me in a dream.”
Rhia had heard this story before. It made her skin crawl then, and this time was no different. However, the echo of concern from RuArk rang through their bond, and with it came a combination of shock and rage. He cast her a glance that conveyed a wealth of meaning, yet betrayed nothing to their enemies.
Ricard and this so-called Dreadlord, were indeed their enemies.
“Continue,” RuArk demanded.
“He told me I could have my heart’s desire if I served him.” Looking toward Rhia as he spoke, the fear in his eyes was replaced with something that bordered on zealous idiocy.
The O’dann’s stepped to RuArk’s side. “Does this lord have a common name?” Marth growled.
“I don’t know his name, but he promised if I brought Rhia back to the High City he would...” Ricard paused.
“Yes?” Marth and Linc barked in unison.
Ricard looked at them as if they were slow of mind. “He would give me Rhia.”
“Why? What in all the hells does he want with Rhia?” RuArk asked through clenched teeth. When he stared mutinously at RuArk, her warrior grabbed Ricard by the collar, snatched him up from the ground and shook him until his neck snapped back and forth. “Why. Does. He. W
ant. My. Woman?”
“The Dreadlord doesn’t have to reveal all his plans to those who serve him.” Sneering down at RuArk, he added, “Does that Great Spirit of your Ancestors tell you everything, you barbaric savage?”
RuArk didn’t respond, choosing instead to dig for answers. “Does this lord ever come to you in the flesh?”
“No, you idiot, I said he comes in my sleep! But I can feel him when I awake, as if he’s been in the room with me, watching over me. Protecting me.”
“Did he tell you what would happen if you should fail in your mission?”
“He didn’t tell me, he showed me. The horrors were unspeakable.” Ricard blanched and his gaze was suddenly far away... and horrified. “Far worse than anything you could do to me, so do your worst, Gaian.”
“And what of the Noman we were hunting?” This from Linc.
“I told Rhia that I let them into Province Springs.” Ricard began to laugh maniacally. Spittle flew from the corners of his mouth and his eyes flashed of something familiar, but Rhia couldn’t quite place it. It was almost as if someone else looked back at them in Ricard’s stead as the man continued to laugh as if he had a secret. “You stupid, muscle-bound back births. He’ll have what he wants and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Ricard?” Rhia called softly, puzzled at the strange look that crossed his face. It was the same expression she’d glimpsed in Bryan’s eyes after he’d talked her into leaving home. The same look Brita wore as she’d wandered around the villa looking lost. It gave her the creeps. She silently pushed her feelings to RuArk through their bond.
At his subtle nod of understanding, she tried to reach her former friend again. “Ricard?” she called, looking for any sign of her old childhood friend. “By letting those creatures into our home you put not only my life in danger, but your sister, Joan, all those innocent townsmen who happened to be in my courtyard at the time of the attack. Any of us could have fallen in that fighting.”
He waved her words away and said, “The Noman were under strict orders and you were not to be harmed, Rhia. They were after this huge walking tree of yours, not you.”
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