Courted Sanctuary

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Courted Sanctuary Page 37

by Tara K. Young

Chapter 35

  A chill tickled Luitgard's arm and she pressed herself more firmly into Justin's side to gain his warmth.

  "It is almost time."

  The hot breath that carried Merek's words spread over her ear. She tried to jump up but he was already holding her in place. She could feel Justin's body jolt against her and heard his sharp intake of breath but he too remained where he was.

  "Finally decided to kill us," Justin seethed through a tight jaw.

  "Your lover is so rude," Merek whispered in her ear. "Even the point of my blade at his throat does not bring him manners."

  "What do you want?" she asked, trying not to give him the satisfaction of shaking beneath his touch.

  "I am hoping to give the Goddess what I know she wants and take from Kilchain the last thing that ever mattered to him," he said.

  Grabbing her by the arm, he jerked her onto her feet and used the momentum to throw her against something large. She looked up to see the face of one of the hired men looking down at her. She tried to back away but he had already grabbed her arms. She tried to pull and kick but this only caused him to pick her up and throw her onto his shoulder. When she had recovered from the winding his shoulder had caused, she renewed her attempts to hit and kick. He held her ankles together tightly and seemed unfazed by the blows with her fists. Beneath her hands his skin felt like one hardened mass of muscle and scars. She tried to push off his shoulder and then pull herself in the other direction. Neither worked. Finally, she forced all her weight sideways. While it caught him off guard and forced him to regain his balance after a small stumble, he held strong.

  "Enough!" Merek called. "If you do not calm yourself, little pagan, I will gut Justin right here."

  "You will not do that," she said over her shoulder. "He has the blood of the dragon too. Wherever you are taking me, you surely intend to take him."

  Merek chuckled. "There may be some brains in that head of yours," he said, "But we are not far from where I plan to take you and I am sure his blood won't cool by then."

  She stopped her attempts at punching the side of the guard's head. She might as well have been stroking him lovingly for all the good it had been doing anyway. She decided to cooperate, hoping to find a better opportunity for escape in the streets.

  "The same threat works for her, Justin," Merek said.

  After a pause, he walked around the man holding Luitgard and to the window sill. The pot of flowers still sat where Cornelius' wife had left it. He plucked out the white point.

  "Time to have this back," he said as he tucked it into a pocket inside his sleeve. "It is also time we left."

  The guard carried Luitgard from the room while Merek, pushing Justin in front of him, followed. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they stopped. Luitgard could not see why but the reason was made obvious when Merek pulled out a full purse and said, "The rest of what I owe you, Cornelius. I suspect this will be the last time I require your help."

  Cornelius walked up, took the purse, and thanked him. "Your business is always welcome if you change your mind," he said.

  As they left the inn, the other guard remained still at his post, his eyes focused ahead of him.

  Luitgard's ribs ached with each jolting step of the guard. She tried to look into Justin's eyes, hoping to be given some indication that he had a plan, but she could not make them out in the darkness. Merek's smugness beamed. She could not take it anymore.

  "What have you done with my grandfather?" she demanded.

  Merek laughed. "Absolutely nothing ... yet."

  "You have been torturing him. I know you have. You put his hair in my bag!"

  "So desperate to believe I have him," he said. "I cut that hair from him eleven years ago in Stare Mesto. I hoped it would summon the Goddess but it proved useless until I slipped it into your saddlebag."

  "You lie! I've heard you torturing him in my dreams!"

  "A dream I too have had for many years," he said, "But not one I have achieved. Tonight, with the help of the Goddess, that will change."

  The night was chilly but that was not what made her blood go cold. "What do you mean? She protected the Mintharchs ... " The words of her dream came back to her. She corrected herself. "She protects me."

  Merek shrugged. "I suspect the Goddess has become tired of you," he said. "Why else would she have lured you back here. There is only one reason she would do that and that is to ensure your death."

  "You are insane," she spat.

  "Simply better informed than you are," he said. "At the angel, you shall know the truth."

  Her rage fed her heartbeat and the speed of her breathing. Her sternum began to ache in concert with her ribs. She had been betrayed by even the Goddess, not just abandoned but treated as a toy.

  She screamed and in her fury dug her fingernails into the neck of the guard just below his ear. The sharp pains of her cuts caught his attention in a way her blows had not. He began to crumple. She was aware of some form of struggle between Justin and Merek even as the guard lost his grip. She threw her weight sideways and rolled onto the ground.

  As she tried to stand, she saw that the reason the guard had fallen was not due to her scratches. Merek had attempted to run Justin through but Justin had been prepared. He had dodged and used Merek's momentum to guide his weapon into the guard's back.

  She was at her feet as Merek tried to pull it out. But Justin was already at her side and the two of them ran. They twisted and turned down as many convoluted streets as they could, hoping to avoid Merek trailing them. Their footsteps echoed off so many buildings that they began to think Merek had sent an army after them. They kept running. They ran until they were near the city gates.

  They stopped and panted in a darkened alley. The echoes faded but their heightened senses pricked at every new sound. Their breaths caught as they heard heavy footsteps. Their blood flow ceased momentarily, causing painful tingling in their limbs. An unknown man walked by, unaware or seemingly unconcerned with their presence.

  Luitgard's body collapsed against the wall as her panting resumed.

  "We can't get out of the city until morning," Justin said between gasps for air.

  "We cannot get the horses," she added. "Merek will be waiting with more help."

  Her breath finally began to catch up with her and slow, but the roof of her mouth constricted, causing a twinge of pain to climb to her eyes where it plucked tears from her.

  "I am so sorry," she whispered as she failed to hold back the flow. "I was so convinced Dragonfather was here. I was so convinced he needed my help." She gave up trying and let the tears go. "Every night, Justin. Every single night, I have listened to his screams as they tortured him. I saw my home burning with no survivors amongst the rubble. Every night I saw and heard these things. And then the Goddess began to talk to me in those dreams. She would tell me there was no hope. She would tell me everyone was dead. She would tell me truth was to be found in Rome and the last life to be saved was here. She lied about all of it to bring us here, to walk willingly into her trap. I am so sorry!"

  He put his arm around her shoulders. They both slid down the wall to sit on the ground. "I think I will cherish my own God's silence now," he chuckled. When she did not respond to his attempt at humour, he said, "You couldn't have known. Being tormented like that night after night ... she probably did it to make sure you kept going."

  She nodded. "And like a fool, I did exactly as they both wanted. They never had Dragonfather. He probably really is dead. He probably died years ago."

  "You don't know that. He could be alive. It sounded like Merek is trying to lure him out too. He could be anywhere."

  She gave a great sniffle. "Not anywhere," she said. "He is not here."

  Justin rested his head against hers. "True, but there is something else this all could mean."

  "What?"

  "That the Mintharchs are alive," he explained.

  She looked into his eyes. "You are not just holding onto hope to stay al
ive?" She asked. "You really think so?"

  "Yes," he said, "I really do."

  She rested her head on his shoulder. Could they still have a chance to return to her home? They were horseless and without a single coin now. Her dagger, her comb, their money were all still at the inn, but there was hope. Even if it took the next year to walk back, they could get there so long as they managed to evade Merek. She closed her eyes and comforted herself with the thought of Sieglinde's face when she returned home with all the stories of their adventures.

 

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