Amáne of Teravinea - Black Castle (The Teravinea Series Book 4)

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Amáne of Teravinea - Black Castle (The Teravinea Series Book 4) Page 16

by D. Maria Trimble


  A black fog oozed from the scale. Increasing in density, it floated toward Ravana. Her eyes bulged. She froze, her hand still poised to throw her deadly fire. The lady’s breath came out in rasping gasps. I watched in detached horror.

  She must recognize the magic from Charna’s scale.

  The dark cloud encircled her head. It entered through her mouth, nose and ears. The sorceress took several steps backwards. Her eyes darted around the room as if seeing enemies surrounding her. The fireball in her hand brightened and then slowly faded out. Pressing her fists to the sides of her head, she let out a screech. The sound sent a chill up my spine. I pressed my lips together and watched as her terror increased. Batting the air, fighting off invisible demons, she fled out of the kitchen toward the courtyard.

  “She’s gone, Eshshah, thank you.” I breathed in relief.

  And thank you Charna Yash-churka I said to myself as I carefully placed his scale back in my sleeve.

  I tried to catch my breath and take in the enormity of what I had just done. I’d sent several men to their ancestors, including the one called Galtero. Shaking my head, I dropped my shoulders.

  Under my breath, I said, “May they all rest with their ancestors.” A relief washed over me. My heart was moved, I had recognized I’d taken human lives.

  Maybe I’m not the monster I thought myself to be.

  “Let me sit here for just a moment, Eshshah, and then I’ll head to the tunnel.”

  Before I could take in two more breaths, bootsteps echoed in the hallway. I forced myself up, wincing from the pain. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed my glaive and turned to face the new threat.

  Thankfully, only one set of boots sounded in the corridor, heading toward the same door where Galtero and the lady had entered. I moved closer so at the least I could have the element of surprise. A drawn sword preceded my opponent into the room. I used the cross bars on my glaive to hook and draw it up and out of his hand.

  My strength had waned. The attacker rushed fully into the room, still with a good grip on his sword. He turned to face me. My eyes went wide. I dropped my glaive and dipped into a painful curtsy.

  “Your Majesty. I ... I’m so sorry. I didn’t know ... I thought ...”

  “Amáne!” King Ansel sheathed his sword. He pulled me up, drew me into his arms and buried his face in my neck. I stiffened as a multitude of emotions ripped through me.

  The King of Teravinea had me pressed against his body. I inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to push him away. I didn’t want to insult this king who’d sacrificed his freedom for mine. What I found most unsettling was the intense heat that traveled through me as I stood enfolded in his embrace. Truthfully, his embrace comforted me. I almost didn’t want him to let go.

  A tangled mesh of memories swarmed through my head. I saw a crown and aristocratic ladies. But the images departed as quickly as they came.

  Frustrated, I chewed on my lip and returned to the present.

  How do I politely disengage myself?

  He pulled back and took my face in his hands. His eyes went to my lips.

  Is he going to kiss me?

  My panic rose. Before I could act, he released his hold and stepped back. He held my hands while he gazed intensely into my eyes. The pain in his face confused me.

  Bearing his grasp on my burnt hand, I cleared my throat. “I’m happy to see you safe as well, m’lord.”

  I tore my eyes from his piercing green ones and gently pulled my hands from his. As an excuse for my action, I tucked my hair back under my helmet, then turned my attention to inspect my sword belt as if I would find it in as much disarray as my emotions.

  “My apologies. I didn’t mean to alarm you,” he said with a dip of his head.

  His eyes scanned the room and took in the aftermath of my battles. Three guards lay in pools of blood. He threw me a shocked look as he moved toward the fourth body.

  Kneeling beside it, he whispered. “Galtero.”

  I couldn’t read his reaction regarding the fallen despot. Bowing my head to the young king, I said, “It was self defense, m’lord. I couldn’t have taken him alive.”

  Approaching Galtero’s body, I bent to retrieve my dagger that still stood buried in his chest. I shuddered, recalling his bloody hands grasping mine in his death throes. King Ansel gestured me away from the man, who looked just as evil in death. He extracted my blade, and after wiping it on Galtero’s rich robe, he held it out to me, hilt first.

  “You did a great deed. This man will no longer threaten Teravinea, or any surrounding lands, ever again.”

  I reached to take my dagger. The movement caused a shot of searing pain from the burn up to my shoulder. I yanked my arm back against my side with a gasp, leaving him holding the blade.

  The compassion in his face made my heart quicken. He stood and ushered me away from the carnage to the far edge of the kitchen. After examining my arm, he took my other hand and turned it to survey the damage on my palm.

  “How did you get these burns?”

  “Galtero had a woman with him. A sorceress. The lady pulled cursed fireballs out of the air. I couldn’t evade all she hurled at me.”

  His jaw tightened. “You’re fortunate you had on a dragonscale breastplate. Your pauldron, your shoulder protector, took the brunt of the impact. But your upper arm didn’t have any protection. They should have insisted you wore a rarebrace as well.” He let out a sigh. “Let me wrap it until we can get you to Eshshah. She’ll heal it for you.”

  “I’m fine, Your Majesty. We should leave immediately. The escape tunnel is behind you. My injuries are not important. They can wait.”

  He lifted his tunic and untucked his shirt. With my dagger still in his hand, he ripped through the fabric along the hem. “Between the two of us, I should be able to salvage enough strips to do a decent job.”

  Stubborn man.

  “May I?” he said. Without waiting for my response, he tugged at the bottom of my shirt to find a section that wasn’t soaked in blood.

  King Ansel paused. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Is all this blood yours?”

  I shook my head. “Most is not mine.”

  “I found a clean section. Hold still.”

  He worked around toward my back. Feeling awkward, I tensed up until he finished his task.

  “There, now. This should be enough.” The young king placed the strips on the worktable behind me, then took me by the waist and lifted me to sit on the table beside the cloths.

  Heat rose in my face. “You really shouldn’t be the one to wait on me, m’lord. It’s not proper. I’m a commoner. I can wrap my arm myself.”

  His lips pressed together for a heartbeat.

  Did I just insult him? Does he think I’m telling him what to do?

  He picked my dagger up off the table and sheathed it in its scabbard at the small of my back. I inhaled his scent — a familiar scent. A fleeting recollection of images tortured me once again. I exhaled in vexation.

  His eyes snapped to mine. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I ... we’ve met before? I mean, before this place?”

  “Your face is swollen. What happened?”

  “You’re not answering my question ... Your Majesty.”

  He stiffened and opened his mouth to say something. After a slight shake of his head, he asked, “You’ve met the Healer?”

  “Yes. On your communication device.”

  “Then you know she’s asked us to allow your recovery to come naturally. For reasons you don’t understand. I choose to follow her instructions.”

  “You’re the king. You don’t have to take her instruction ... you don’t have to take orders from anyone.” My eyes narrowed. “Why the smirk?”

  He shrugged a dismissal. “She knows what she’s doing. There could be grave consequences if we don’t heed her directives. Now, tell me what happened to your cheek. Are those puncture marks?”

  King Ansel put his hand gently on the side of my face and drew closer to
examine my snake bite. I leaned into his hand. Our eyes met. My heart beat wildly. The sound of his heart competed with mine.

  Why would he also be affected by our closeness?

  Ashamed of my inappropriate reaction, I inhaled and sat up straight. The king took a small step back. He bit his lip and dropped his eyes.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I answered, “I was bitten by vipers. At least I thought they were vipers. Apparently they weren’t, else why am I still alive?”

  Without waiting for his response, I quashed my personal emotions and said with urgency, “Please, Your Majesty, I say again, my injuries can wait. We need to leave. Braonán will be waiting for me, for us, at the end of the tunnel on the north shore.”

  Ignoring my plea, he wrapped the strips of cloth around my arm. As he did so, I could hear the battle still raging outside. Dragons trumpeted their challenges. I was confident they would defeat what was left of Galtero’s garrison.

  King Ansel and I remained silent. I sat still and stiff on the table while he finished my arm and then my hand. I tried to keep my eyes lowered, but I couldn’t stop myself from sneaking glances at him while he worked.

  Who is this king and how does he know me? And more importantly, what am I thinking? I’m dangerously attracted to him. He is a king, Amáne ... but he’s strangely alluring.

  The young noble tended my injury with surprising skill. His task completed, I admired his handiwork. Without thinking, I said, “That’ll probably leave a scar, don’t you think?”

  His head jerked back.

  “What?” I said.

  He blinked. “I just ... I’ve heard that before ... never mind. We’d best be going now.”

  King Ansel lifted me off the table, and handed me my glaive.

  “By the way,” he said, “I thought you’d like to know, Lia’ina and her group made it safely to the north shore. They were taken back to the inn.”

  “Thank you. That is good news.”

  He guided me toward the trapdoor of the tunnel with his hand low on my back — another gesture that sent my mind reeling with confusing images. A crown, again. Two ceramic dragons wrapped around a goblet. A stolen kiss.

  Whom did I kiss?

  I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip, but couldn’t grab hold of the recollections.

  The king bent down and pulled open the trapdoor. He motioned for me to enter the escape tunnel.

  Before I took the first step, a thought came to me. Trying to hide my shock, I turned to King Ansel. “I beg your pardon, m’lord, but can I ask one more question?”

  He nodded. “I can’t promise I’ll answer, but go ahead. And be quick.”

  “Er, was I ... that is, am I ...” My eyes wide, I blurted out, “Am I your mistress?”

  The young king tried unsuccessfully to suppress a laugh. He shook his head and said, “Amáne, you were never my mistress.” A mischievous glint came to his eyes, “But if you’re willing, I wouldn’t oppose.”

  My face went red. Biting back the urge to punch him, I spun around and descended the stairs into the dark tunnel.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The short flight of stairs ended at a dirt floor. Light coming down from the open trapdoor showed a narrow dark path before us. King Ansel would just barely be able to stand upright, and we’d have to walk single file. He waited until I reached the floor before he closed the trapdoor and secured the latch. Slivers of light seeped in around the edges of the hatch before being swallowed by the darkness.

  I tensed. My heart raced. Closing my eyes, I inhaled and blew out a long exhale.

  “Is something wrong?” the king said from close behind me.

  “Please give me a minute.” I inhaled slowly and exhaled again. “I’ll be all right, it’s just being confined down here ... I ...”

  “You’re claustrophobic?”

  “Yes, I guess I am.” I laughed nervously.

  He rested his hands on my shoulders and pressed down firmly. Similar to what Avano had done for me before this mission, it created a calming effect. With his efforts and my breathing, I gained control.

  “Thank you. I’m fine, now.” I proceeded along the underground passage toward the north shore and safety. A sigh of relief escaped my lips.

  “Amáne, if you don’t mind my asking, what would make you think you were my mistress?” I heard amusement in his voice.

  “First of all, I didn’t really think I was your —” I blinked and started again, “Begging your pardon, my Lord King, no offense intended, but that’s an inappropriate question and I’d prefer to drop the subject.”

  “As you wish.”

  I clenched my jaw. I also wished I knew what made me ask that question.

  “We’re on our way, Eshshah,” I said out loud.

  I heard a snicker behind me.

  “What are you laughing at now ... if ... if you please, m’lord?” I stopped short and spun around on him, letting out a yelp as we collided. I stumbled backwards. He grabbed for me, and we both lost our balance. I exhaled an “oof” as I hit the ground, and another “oof” as he landed on top of me.

  “Are you all right Amáne? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so close.”

  Thankful he couldn’t see my blush, I stuttered to answer. The situation was so ludicrous, I giggled, prompting a burst of laughter from him.

  He hesitated a bit longer than I thought proper, but finally lifted himself off and grappled in the dark to help me up.

  I gathered my dignity and persevered with my query. “I’d like to know what you were snickering about.”

  “You spoke to Eshshah out loud.”

  I turned away from him and continued my trek down the tunnel. “I don’t see the humor in that.”

  “It’s just that it’s not necessary. I don’t expect you to know this.”

  “But I did know. I felt like talking to her out loud, that’s all. But if it’s that much of an issue …” My nostrils flared. “I don’t happen to know all of your rules and etiquette in your secret dragon society.”

  “My apology,” he said in a low voice.

  I almost regretted my outburst.

  We stumbled along for a short while before I remembered my glaive had Eshshah’s scales embedded. I whispered her name and a small flame grew on the end of the shaft, lighting the dark passage and alleviating my returning claustrophobia.

  “Ah, that’s much better,” I said.

  “I thought you’d never get around to that.”

  “You knew my glaive had Eshshah’s scales?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why didn’t you ask me to light it sooner?”

  “I was about to, but I wanted you to be the one to remember.”

  “Begging your pardon, yet again, Your Majesty, you might be a royal and I might wish I didn’t say this, but you can be annoying ... m’lord.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. I huffed out a long breath realizing I’d become more at ease in his presence ... at least here, in the dark. I shouldn’t be so comfortable with my disrespectful attitude.

  Braonán had warned me it would be a long trek along the escape tunnel before we would arrive at the exit on the north shore. I knew we hadn’t been down there long, but it seemed like hours we’d traveled in the dark, stifling passage. I was thankful for my glaive with Eshshah’s fiery scales.

  As we roved on in silence, my mind returned to my situation.

  What kind of relationship did I have with this man ... this king? Why this overwhelming attraction? How well does he really know me?

  I didn’t want to admit it, but he had a charisma, a seductiveness about him that seemed so natural, not forced. More than likely he had this effect on all females.

  Stop thinking of yourself as anyone out of the ordinary, Amáne. You are not worthy of his attentions.

  But still the questions knocked about in my head.

  What would it be like to kiss the handsome king who walked s
o closely behind me? How many women fawned over him, and how many had he wooed? My thoughts raged out of control. Why did my obsession seem so wrong, and yet at the same time not wrong?

  Before I drove myself mad with my imaginings, I broke the silence with a topic I thought he could talk about. “If it pleases you, Sir King, would you tell me how you escaped and made it to the old kitchen?”

  “Of course. I’m trying to piece it together, myself. Early this morning I’d anticipated your arrival, but Sovann, my dragon, hadn’t heard anything. I worried, not knowing whether you’d made it in or not. It was quite a while before I heard you’d been captured.”

  “I’m not accustomed to this thought transference thing,” I said. “I was a bit preoccupied myself, trying to stay alive. I contacted Eshshah as soon as I thought about it — once they threw me in a cell.” I didn’t mean for my response to have had so much heat.

  “I understand, now,” he said. “How did you manage to break free?”

  “I thought this was your story.”

  “It appears at this point, the story is yours.”

  “Er ... alright, well, I guess my mission started badly because I’d been betrayed.”

  “Betrayed?”

  “Yes, one of Lia’ina’s tribe knew I was being smuggled into the castle in a crate. He gave me up. They threw irons on me and marched me into a cell.”

  How much should I tell him?

  I shrugged and continued. “I’d just started to use Aperio’s key when one of the guards came back. He seemed to remember me from ... before. The disgusting way he looked at me made my stomach turn. He let himself into my cell.” I shuddered and found it difficult to continue.

  “Amáne?”

  “Hmm?”

  “And then what? Did he hurt you?” Fear rang in his voice.

  He took hold of my shoulder, stopped me and turned me to face him. “Did he hurt you?” he repeated.

  “No. I managed to unlock my manacles and used them to knock him back, then I took his sword, and after a fight, I ran him through.”

  King Ansel huffed out a sigh of relief.

  I squeezed his hand that still rested on my shoulder. “I’m fine,” I said. Gently moving his hand off, I turned and continued down the tunnel while I told the rest of my story.

 

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