When her talons closed on a sow’s back, the family exploded in all directions. The sow shrieked, the high-pitched squealing of a pig in distress. The hoary boar dodged past her, his other wives breaking through the brush to climb the hills. Too confused to know where to run, a piglet the size of medium sized dog floundered in the brush, screaming, panicked. On it before it got its wits together, I pounced, my jaws crushing its skull.
The remaining piglets scattered and vanished. Feria killed her prey with one savage bite to its neck. The shrieks stilled instantly, leaving our ears ringing with blessed silence.
Feria, folding her wings, looked long at me, her beak parted in a griffin laugh.
“Damn,” I said, still stunned at how easy it was. “Damn.”
Both the sow and the piglet brought us more than enough for one night’s meal. Tonight and perhaps even breakfast. My tail wagged, my jaws widening as I began to laugh, too. “I love it when a plan comes together.”
Her right front foot rose. Rearing back on my hind legs, still laughing, I struck her talons with my right front paw.
Chapter Seven
Rygel Guilty, Rygel Innocent
Fear dropped like a stone into my heart.
Instinctively, I grabbed for one of my knives, not caring if the royal troopers saw or not. Lady, Lady, have mercy. Rygel wasn’t pretending, not pretending at all. I saw my death in Rygel’s hot, furious eyes.
His clenched fist slammed home into my face. His knuckles cracked across my left cheekbone along with an explosion of agony. Stars shot across my darkened vision. My hand, fumbling for a weapon, fell still. Stunned, I saw through vague eyesight his hand rise to hit me again. This time, unconsciousness hovered close. I wished it would descend, and spare me a great deal of pain.
His third lightning-fast strike knocked me from his left hand’s grip. I fell to the desert sand, writhing in agony, all but unconscious, trying to crawl away from him.
Dimly, as though from a great distance, I heard Bar scream. I heard his words, felt his rage, his fierce lust to rend and slay. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him!”
“No,” I tried to think back at him. “Don’t, Bar.”
Rygel’s boot in my belly not only doubled me up, but took whatever breath and thought processes I had left. A second swift kick, then a third left me retching and crawling in the sand like a worm. I wouldn’t survive a fourth. I knew it. I waited for it.
Oddly, I heard yet another voice in my head. “Fire Vixen!”
High-pitched snarls dragged my attention, however unfocused that was, back into the present. I opened my right eye, as the left refused to budge, in time to see Tuatha sink his tiny fangs into Rygel’s leg. He may have been a pup, but Tuatha was pure wolf. His jaws were strong. Blood oozed from Rygel’s breeches midway between his ankle and his knee. Rygel’s scream of pain and fury roused me a fraction. I lifted my head.
Rygel shook Tuatha off, sending the furious pup flying. Snarling, Tuatha came back for more, his dark paws flinging sand up behind him as he lunged for Rygel’s leg again. Dark lips skinned back from white needle teeth, gleaming in the sunlight. If Rygel’s throat lay before him, Tuatha would rip it out and drink down his hot blood.
Whatever spell Rygel was under broke. He danced out of the pup’s reach, cursing, holding his bleeding leg, leaving me alone. Tuatha followed him up, chasing him, forcing him even further from me.
Weakly, I raised my hand, trying to gather enough breath to call Tuatha back. Inside my head, I heard Bar’s fury, felt him dropping like a stone from the sky to avenge me.
“Bar,” I gasped silently. “Stay back.”
“He is so dead, I’m going to rip him apart and feast on his flesh,” Bar shrieked within the depths of my brain.
“No, please. You’ll ruin it.”
As though hearing my silent call, Tuatha returned to me, his growls and snarls filling my ears. Still curled into a fetal position in the sand, I gathered him close. His fur stood on end, saliva dripped red from his razor sharp fangs as he bared them, growling. Had Tuatha been full-grown, not even Rygel’s magic might save him from the young wolf’s vengeance.
“You better hope she can still serve me.”
Arianne’s chilly voice reached my ears, my ears that still worked while my eyes didn’t. I saw a small amount from my right eye. None at all from my left. I knew I bled from cuts on my face, for I saw red pools on the sand in front of my nose.
“My apologies, Your Highness,” Rygel replied stiffly.
“A ruined slave is useless. You know that.”
I hoped she was pretending. Her voice sounded so cold. So cold.
“Ly’Tana!” Bar’s furious and agonized screech lanced through my soul.
“No,” I told him. “It’s all right. Stay away. I’m fine.”
The agony I felt physically was nothing compared to the emotional hurt I felt when no one stepped forward to help me. My heart beat in slow, agonized strokes as I slowly rose from the fetal position to one half-kneeling. I suspected Rygel’s boot ruptured something important, for a wicked heat coursed through my blood and added to the nausea and pain in my gut. What would Rygel do if I vomited at Arianne’s feet? Finish me off? The vision got me a tad bit further. Now, with my bloody hair hanging in my face, I fumbled to my feet.
My legs weren’t quite strong enough to support me. I fell down, almost on top of Tuatha. I can’t do it. You must. I can’t. Why won’t they help me? Kel’Ratan? I recognized Kel’Ratan’s boots a mere rod from my face, but he took no step to assist me. Here I am, boys, I thought. Here’s the princess you all swore to defend with your lives. Here I be, crawling, bloody, in agony, defeated…at your feet. What love? What loyalty? I reckon neither notion got me very far at all. No, not very bloody far, after all.
Tuatha’s soft whine in my ear brought me to the present. Get up, damn you. Never crawl, never beg for mercy. Clutching Tuatha, I staggered to my feet. I remained upright this time, swaying, dizzy, nauseous, but on my legs at last.
“The beast is fond of her,” I heard the lieutenant remark to Arianne.
“I expect I’ll have to remedy that,” she replied, her tone frosty.
None tried to stop me as I staggered down the line toward Mikk. I half-expected to be summoned to serve her again, but Arianne called a halt to the break.
“Let us be off,” she said clearly.
Great, I thought. How in the hell am I supposed to get on Mikk? I can’t even see straight much less lift my foot to the stirrup. I couldn’t do that even while hale and strong.
To my surprise, one of the troopers who liked to gossip stepped forward to help me mount. Arianne’s voice stopped him cold.
“Leave her. She’s fine.”
The Federal soldier backed away from me and swiftly mounted his own horse. “I’d hate to be one of her slaves,” I heard him mutter to his partner.
“Did you see the way that bugger lit into him?”
“That beast is a killer and no mistake.”
Setting the killer on the saddle was an exercise in itself, as my belly and ribs screamed when I lifted him. After two tries, I managed it at last, using more of my shoulder rather than my arms to boost him upward. He sat still, looking down at me, his sapphire eyes anxious. Rygel’s blood still coated his jaws. I floundered about for a while, trying to get my foot in the stirrup.
“Don’t look up,” Bar said inside my head. “I’m circling above you. If he even looks at you funny I’m all over him like a bad smell.”
I choked over that image, thinking that if I could still find humor I reckoned I’ll live.
“That’s right,” Bar called. “A little higher. That’s it. Now grab the pommel.”
I obeyed my griffin’s silent instructions, trying in vain to climb aboard my very large stallion. In spite of the pain, the agony, slicing through my head and my gut, I grabbed the pommel with my right hand.
At that moment, Arianne led the column forward. All the horses in line broke into a sw
ift trot. Mikk, trained for war not tricks, suddenly folded his left foreleg under him, effectively lowering his shoulder. His muzzle dropped to the desert sand, his huge left brown eye on me. In essence, he offered me an equine bow. As well as a very easy way of mounting.
Where once his stirrup dangled at chest-level, it now hovered at my knee. I fit my foot into it without bending my leg at all. With my left foot in the stirrup, my right on the pommel, I swung my right leg over the cantle with only a small amount of agony.
Mikk stood up quickly, breaking into a trot the instant my butt hit the saddle.
Damn, I thought, falling onto his black mane, all but squashing Tuatha. This is one smart horse. Even if my boys weren’t on my side, I still had the loyalty of Bar, Tuatha and now Mikk. Ignoring my blood as it seeped down his cream hide, I stroked my hand down his neck. I love you, Mikk.
“Bugger me,” said a soldier. “Didja see that?”
“It ain’t just the wolf who likes her.”
“Ever see anything like that before?”
“Never. And from a worthless, scrawny nag at that.”
Worthless? My hand stroked his neck again.
Mikk was priceless.
“You may have saved his life for a time,” Bar warned from the depths of my mind. “But he’s mine.”
“Just kill him where the troops don’t see,” was all I could answer.
The ride was short but couldn’t be short enough. The slicing hot agony in my head and gut threatened me once more with unconsciousness. Only Tuatha’s warm tongue and Bar’s voice in my head kept me moderately awake. I sat my saddle like a wet rag, my head bowed, my hair swinging across my face. I drifted in and out of a daze, trying to listen to the voices about me. The gossip-mongering troopers fell silent, riding behind me without speaking. I couldn’t comprehend the murmured voices from in front.
Mikk stopped, forcing me wide awake, gasping, alarmed. What happened? Did Rygel summon me again? Pain sank its bitter fangs into my chest and head, bringing a gasp as far as my throat. No. He sat Shardon next to Arianne, his face stony and cold, as the entire column stopped its forward momentum. Mikk’s muzzle brushed the tail of Yuri’s chestnut as that horse swept aside annoying desert flies.
The young lieutenant called together his men with a wave. Obedient servants of war, they obeyed at a gallop. The gossip-ridden lads loped past me in a swirl of sand dust. Tuatha sneezed. Coughing hurt too much, thus I sucked grit into my lungs and forced them to accept the annoyance. Though I did shut my eyes against the new torment.
“Fare you well, Your Highness,” the young man said, bowing low in his saddle. “Right glad I am our paths crossed.”
“And you as well, my friend –“
Arianne gasped. “Oh, heavens – I didn’t show you my pass. My bad.”
The man’s honest mouth opened in protest, then slowly closed as Rygel brought forth another gem. A second diamond. This time Arianne’s hand closed over the young officer’s as she placed it in his palm.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “Thank you for keeping me safe from those wretched beasts.”
“Your Highness.”
The lieutenant bowed again. His handsome lips all but pursed in an air kiss as he wheeled his mount. Setting spurs to his horse’s flanks, he led his band of seven Khalidian troops away at a gallop. As before, the royal highway still teemed with animals and their human drivers passing by in both directions, kicking up nasty desert dust.
I think I might vomit now.
My gut churned in helpless agitation, and my pain made my head spin. I happily lapsed into a semi-conscious state. I knew I rode my horse, I knew Rygel all but killed me and Arianne didn’t care one jot, I knew my boys sat and watched. Yet, oddly I didn’t care, either. When Mikk walked forward again, following behind I don’t know whose horse, I fell into a dark dream. With Tuatha’s warmth in my lap, I used both hands to cradle my injured belly, my chin falling onto my chest.
I fell down into black.
I saw Raine.
Not as a wolf, this time, but as a man. He lay beside a silvery, rippling mountain stream, looking just as he did when he popped himself away from me. He appeared very thin, gaunt almost, his cheeks under a scraggly growth of beard hollow and pale. His white tunic looked ragged and stained with what I thought was old blood. I remembered his battle with the Khalidians and the Tongu, the arrow striking him –
He not only survived that battle, but he got the better of both Ja’Teel and the hunters.
He lived, and my heart soared.
As he lay, sleeping under the sun, his eyes opened.
His icy grey eyes still ringed in black looked into me. His eyes gazed through me.
“Ly’Tana,” he said, his voice warm, soothing. “I love you. Be strong.”
“I need you,” I cried, tears hot on my cheeks.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Raine, please – he’s gone crazy, he tried to kill me.”
His tone expressed his worry. He half-rose up from his resting pose, his hand reaching for me. “I don’t understand this. He loves you. I know he does.”
“Raine, they stood around and watched. No one helped me. They let him hurt me.”
His icy, grey eyes softened. His handsome lips smiled sadly. “Ly’Tana, dear one, my heart’s blood, they had to. If they saved a slave from a beating, the royals would have gotten suspicious.”
“But –“
I jolted awake when Mikk halted in his tracks. Blearily, I glanced around through my one working eye, seeing my warriors climb down from their horses. Another break.
Crap, I thought. I’d hoped she wouldn’t need another one. I don’t think I’m up for it. I looked down, seeing the ground beneath my feet a very long way away. All right, I can get down. Maybe.
“You treacherous son of a bitch!”
This masculine scream of rage caught my attention. I looked up, seeing my boys surrounding a commotion, their bows out and nocked, pointing inward toward the frenzy in the center of their circle. Even Tor rode his grey mare at a gallop in a ring, both his hands filled with his bow and nocked arrow, his reins on her neck. As I was still mounted on tall Mikk, and we stood on a small hill, I witnessed everything.
To my utter bafflement, Witraz had grabbed Rygel and yanked him from Shardon’s saddle. Rygel fell unceremoniously to the dirt, not even trying to defend himself. He lay, half-curled onto his side, his hands protecting his vulnerable neck. As Rygel had done to me, Witraz now did for Rygel. Kicking, slamming his fists down and into Rygel’s shoulders, neck and head, cursing Rygel for a treacherous bastard, a conniving son of a bitch and a few more titles I couldn’t quite make out.
Before he could do much damage, however, Kel’Ratan swung down from his horse and seized Witraz from behind.
Oh, sure, I thought sourly. You’ll help him, but when he hurt me you stood idly by and watched.
“Leave him be,” Kel’Ratan snapped, dragging Witraz back.
“Let me go! I’ll kill him!”
“It’s not for us to kill him.”
“I don’t care. He tried to murder her.”
Alun entered the fray, seizing his sword and raising it over Rygel’s prone form. His eyes glittered with hate, tears coursed down his cheeks to soak into his drooping mustache.
“No!”
Arianne’s scream halted Witraz’s struggles to get free, but not Alun. Alun was a warrior, tried and true, and no mere shriek could deflect him from his purpose. His sword swung down –
– only to be caught on Rannon’s. Alun stared up at him, his mouth working, his cheeks dripping tears.
“Cease, my brother,” Rannon said softly.
Why should he, I half-thought. Rygel didn’t cease until Tuatha’s teeth insisted.
“He deserves to die for what he’s done.”
“But he’s not ours to kill.”
Rannon reached out, and with his hand on Alun’s, lowered his sword. Despite the distance, I heard Rannon’s s
oft voice clearly.
“He’s Prince Raine’s blood brother,” Rannon went on. “It’s for him to mete out judgment. Not us.”
Alun stared down at Rygel’s body for long moments. As though weighing the merits of murder against a defenseless man and the possible results of letting him live. Knowing Alun as I did, I’d no idea which choice he’d take.
Alun, being the honorable man he was, slammed his sword into its housing. Muttering vile oaths under his breath, he stalked away. Rygel remained where he was, curled in a fetal position, in the dust and sand. Interesting, I thought. He’s just where I was, not so very long ago. Witraz shrugged Kel’Ratan off his back and also stalked away, throwing his hair from his face. If he muttered under his breath, I didn’t hear it.
I peered down at that same sand again, wondering. No, not quite ready.
I glanced up, seeing for the first time we stopped behind a line of low-lying desert hills. Now that the men had ceased most of their noisy cursing and the horses stood quiet, I faintly heard the sound of the foot and animal traffic on the far side. The wind, sliding off the nearest hilltop, sent a thin wave of sand upward and outward. I sat Mikk, Tuatha in my lap, captivated by the sight of that simple act of nature. My pain and nausea increasing, my mind shut down. Sleep, I half-thought, I need sleep, rest. I drifted.
I started when hands touched me.
Left – or was it Right? – lifted me into his strong arms. I cried out against the pain of his arm against my broken or sprung ribs, clutching him around his neck with both arms. Sobbing, I huddled into him, my bruised and bleeding face against his jeweled collar. Damn, that hurt. The other twin plucked Tuatha off my saddle and carried him beside me. What vision I had was fuzzy and shadowed, but I saw a little.
“Ly’Tana?” Kel’Ratan’s worried voice and face appeared in my hearing and altered vision. “Ly’Tana?”
Bugger off, I wanted to say. You don’t care.
I curled deeper into Left’s or Right’s arms, wishing I could just sleep. Just sleep for a long time. Raine visited my sleep. I would see Raine and sleep for a long time and wake healed and pain-free. I longed for sleep.
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