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Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector

Page 5

by Cheryl Johnson


  Dak sat rigidly in the seat beside him, staring at nothing, the muscles along his jaw working, hands clenched in his lap. Talon could only guess at the cauldron of volcanic reactions that boiled in Dak threatening to destroy him.

  "Dak?” Talon waited until he turned toward him again. "I'm sorry."

  Dak's only response was to close his eyes before looking away. In the years since Draagon destroyed his village Talon had seen every form of human suffering and thought himself immune to it. The hopeless desolation reflected in Dak's eyes burned a path to that hidden place in his soul where a twelve-year-old boy refused to be destroyed by the adult man's vow of revenge.

  Kierin hadn't moved. Still holding her own crystal in her hand, she sat surveying the effects of her power. Talon mentally shook himself when his imagination saw regret in her steady gaze. Never one to back down from a challenge he boldly faced the crystal witch.

  "You'll destroy him if you don't release him."

  I know.

  Talon heard the words in his head and would have dismissed them as another illusion if not for the tears that slipped down the pale cheeks of the crystal witch.

  "I give you fair warning, Lady Kierin. If there is a way to help him, I'll find it--even if it means his only escape is in death."

  I mean him no harm, Assassin. What I require of him, I cannot get from another. If I hadn't been at Safe Haven he might be dead already. At least with me there is a chance for him to live.

  "Do you honestly think a man like Dak can live held captive like an animal? Do you realize what …?”

  "Enough, Talon.” Dak's quiet voice stopped the harsh words. "Stay out of it. You tried to help and it didn't work. It's not worth your life."

  "But, Dak ...."

  "I said let it go. You can't win an argument if you're the only one arguing."

  Talon blinked at Dak. He doesn't know she's telepathic. Well, well, well. Turning his mind to the problem of helping Dak, Talon slid the long blade of his knife from the top of his boot and began the familiar ritual of sharpening the blade.

  Dak recognized the sounds of blade against stone and recalled all the times he'd complained about doing the same thing. The armory staffed a dozen men hired to sharpen the knives, swords and axes of JarDan's army, but not for the castle guard. The specially chosen and highly trained men surrounding the royal family had to perform this chore for themselves. While it took a lot of time to keep his blades sharp enough to cut air, he always knew he wouldn't be surprised by a dull sword in the middle of a battle. What he wouldn't give for the chance to sit in his favorite chair before a warm fire and hear the slide of metal against whetstone.

  Don't think about home! He focused on the noise coming from Talon's actions, repeating the sound in his head until the black cloud of hopeless despair began to recede. Acceptance of his slavery came at a high price. Those few brief seconds of reborn hope when Talon offered to remove the amulet made the end results that much more devastating. Until Kierin removed the amulet he was trapped. There would be no escape.

  By all the Ancient Prophets, give me the strength to endure until JarDan finds me.

  Chapter Six

  "The foolish woman is going to get us all killed.” Dak's quiet prediction brought a chuckle from Talon. Giving the assassin a dark glare, he followed in the wake of the crystal witch. From the minute she stepped through the Transport Bay she'd been on a one-woman campaign to make sure everyone she spoke with knew she was headed home. Draagon was practically breathing down her neck and here she was telling every out-of-work low life the best place to ambush them.

  The town of Cypriana looked much like any other frontier town. A handful of permanent buildings formed the center of town with the Transport Center being the hub. There were only two roads. One heading south toward the sea and one heading north toward the mountains. Without a moment's hesitation, Kierin chose the north road, ignoring the stares of those they passed. The sight of the crystal witch and her two tall, dark sentinels attracted more than her usual amount of attention.

  "The last building before we get to the tent city has the best selection of supplies for the trip. I have two pack animals stabled at the stockyard on the edge of town.” She glanced quickly at Talon. "I'm sure you can travel faster without us and no doubt you're anxious to continue your hunt for Draagon."

  "Draagon is after you, Lady Kierin. If I stay near you, I'll find him."

  Kierin huffed in annoyance. She didn't need the added stress of having an assassin--even one who claimed no interest in the bounty on her head--so close to her mountain. He would only make it more difficult for Dak to adjust to his new situation. Thinking of Dak brought a flash of pain in the center of her chest. She missed the teasing glint in those remarkable brown eyes and his slow grin. Except to answer her direct questions, he hadn't spoken a word since the aborted removal of the amulet. For some reason, the knowledge that he answered only because of the stone caused that unfamiliar ache in her chest.

  Regardless of the consequences, she knew she had to continue with this plan for Dak. Talon's appearance on the transport dispelled whatever lingering doubts she had about Draagon's threat. Stopping at the open front of Smiley's Outfitters, Kierin shook off her pensive mood. The practical matter of surviving the trip through the wilderness to her mountain required her full attention.

  "Dak, please wait here. It shouldn't take long to purchase what we'll need.” She tried not to let his curt nod bother her. What do you expect? Undying gratitude for merely being alive? Turning to Talon, she tried again to separate them from the assassin.

  "My funds are budgeted for the travel requirements of two people. I'm afraid you must travel alone.” Without giving him a chance to argue, she disappeared between aisles stacked to the ceiling with non-perishable foods, serviceable clothing and gear for every imaginable type of terrain.

  "She sure is in a hurry to get rid of me."

  Dak nodded absently at Talon's dry comments. Their budding friendship would wither and die--like any hope he had of escaping Kierin’s power--once Kierin succeeded in driving Talon away.

  "You know, Dak," Talon continued in a soft, conversational voice, "I've been doing a lot of thinking the past few hours. Want to hear my conclusions?"

  "No.” Dak's flat tone didn't discourage Talon.

  "Good. A little educational debate gets the blood pumping. Gravity. Do you think about it much?"

  "Talon …."

  "No, Dak. I'm serious. Think about the effect gravity has on everything around us. Without it we'd all fly around in space.” He waved toward the busy store behind them. "It keeps all of Smiley's overpriced goods on his shelves. There's a certain comfort in knowing that anything that goes up will most definitely come down. Think about it."

  Kierin’s reappearance saved Dak from answering Talons' insane rambling. When a man is held captive by a woman with a death warrant on her head, the last thing on his mind is a lesson in physical science. Obviously, Talon spent too much time alone.

  "Mr. Smiley will deliver the supplies to the stable in two hours. That will give us time for a quick meal and a bath."

  Dak would have smiled at the way Kierin lingered over the word "bath" if he wasn't so determined to shut her out.

  "Talon …."

  "You don't need to say it again, Lady Kierin. I heard you the first time. I'm going--alone."

  Dak watched as Talon slung his satchel over his shoulder, surprised at the ache of loneliness tightening his chest. He'd only known the bounty hunter for little more than one day. Talon was an anchor in the maelstrom of emotions threatening to destroy him.

  "Dak," Talon held his hand out, waiting for Dak, "take care.” The handshake was more than a formality. It offered understanding and compassion. "And remember what we discussed about gravity."

  Dak rolled his eyes in exasperation. Talon's grip on his hand tightened painfully.

  "Think about it, Dak. It makes everything fall."

  Without another word, Talon nod
ded to Kierin and disappeared into the milling crowd. Dak felt more alone than he had since the last of his crew disappeared from Murdock's prison.

  "Gravity?” Kierin questioned, obviously confused by Talon's comments. Turning in the opposite direction, she began working her way through the crowds.

  With a shrug she couldn't see, Dak fell into step behind the crystal witch, glaring with murderous intent at any vagrant unfortunate enough to be standing in their path. Within minutes she entered one of the weathered canvas tents stretching as far as he could see in any direction. Being a full head taller than most of the men he'd seen, he had to bend almost double to enter the tent. Once inside he had to keep his head lowered unless he stood in the very center of the room. With quick, quiet precision, he studied the other patrons of the bathing tent while he tried to identify the myriad odors assailing him. Stale, sour body sweat, mildew from the damp canvas and cheap, overpowering perfume threatened to burn away any sense of smell.

  Kierin waited her turn with the proprietor of the bathhouse (and a major contributor to the body sweat odor). Just like on Safe Haven, she waited quietly until her presence was realized.

  "Whatch’ya want?” Asked the man seated at the small table in the middle of the dirt floor.

  "I'll require a bath for myself and my companion--with fresh water, of course."

  Pausing long enough to spit a wad of brownish liquid into the dirt, the man gave her body an insulting appraisal. "Ain't got but one tub big enough for the both of ya. It'll cost extra. Fresh water's extra, too."

  "Separate baths, if you please.” She fought the blush she felt coloring her face. The man was crude and unpleasant but she refused to let him see how upsetting his comments were. She could feel Dak's burning gaze and struggled with the need to turn and look at him.

  "Suit yaself. Me, I like a little company when I wash. Cost ya ten silver coins--each--and a gold coin fer clean water."

  "What?!” Kierin sputtered in outrage. "I didn't spend that much for a week's worth of food! Your sign outside states the price of a bath at five silver coins and I …."

  The foul-smelling man lunged up from behind the table, forcing her to take a step back in order to breathe--and right into Dak's arms. The warmth of his hands lightly gripping her arms spread a comforting blanket of security all around her. Refusing to question this feeling, but drawing strength from it, she straightened.

  "Ya want a bath; ya pay the price I say. Ya don't want no bath, get on outta here. I got others waitin'."

  "How dare …."

  Before she could finish her sentence, Dak had shifted her to the side, his arm still securely around her shoulders. He now faced the obnoxious clerk.

  "The lady said she wants a bath and I know you'll do everything in your power to see that her wishes are carried out. Won’t you?"

  Kierin didn't have to look at Dak to understand why the other man dropped back into his chair, several shades paler than he was just minutes earlier. She'd been the recipient of that laser-beam glare more times than she could count. His quiet voice made the underlying threat of his words even more deadly. She and Dak were the only ones who knew he couldn't follow through with what his tone implied.

  “Boy!” The bellow brought a scrawny lad hardly old enough to be away from his mother running from the back. “Get that first tub emptied an’ filled fresh. An’ don’ ye take all day about it.”

  “Ten silver coins fer two fresh baths.” Ya happy now?”

  “Not particularly,” Dak drawled, “but you’ll be the first one to know if my mood changes. How long before the lady’s bath is ready?”

  “Ten minutes. My place ain’t no rat hole. Got the hottest water in town straight from one of them underground spouts. If them brats ain’t careful wit’ the release valve, it’ll blow the whole tent away. Behind ‘at first curtain.”

  Dak lead Kierin in the direction indicated, grateful--again--that his true feelings were controlled. Even the rats back on Safe Haven would turn up their noses at this hovel. His first impression of the tent dropped to a record low when the young boy motioned them forward past the faded, threadbare rag that offered little security from anyone passing to the other tubs. The room, lightened only by the sunlight through the stained canvas, was ten feet square. A three-legged stool beside the tub and a cracked mirror hanging from the log framework of the tent were the only other furnishings. The dirt floor around the large, wooden tub was at least six inches deep in mud and the sides of the tub glistened with phosphorescent algae.

  “That lousy bastard!” Dak blocked Kierin’s entrance to the small room. “You are not getting in that filthy tub.”

  Kierin’s small hand against his chest stopped him from going after the pig out front.

  “It’s fine,” she assured him after a quick look around the room. “Really. That species of algae only grows in the mineral-rich waters from the sub-surface volcanic pools. It’s very healthy and invigorating.”

  “Pond scum is pond scum, I don’t care where it comes from.” He wanted desperately to work off some of his frustration and beating the sniveling bastard senseless would be a good start. Kierin’s soft giggle stopped him. The sound did strange things to his chest. He couldn’t remember ever making a female giggle--except for Elizabeth, but she was such a happy baby that she giggled at anything. Drawing in as deep a breath as his lungs could hold, he struggled against the tightness in his chest.

  “If you’ll wait for me outside, I won’t be long.”

  “No.” By the Ancients, was the woman insane? The breeze couldn’t hide behind that sorry excuse of a curtain. Any man walking by could look his fill. Don’t you even realize what dangers there are all around you? What kind of father would allow his daughter to grow up so innocent in the ways of the world--and of men?

  “No?” Kierin asked softly, but he saw her fury in the rich pink color staining her cheeks. “That wasn’t a request. Wait. Out. Side.”

  Dak gently unfurled Kierin’s clenched fingers, releasing his shirt--and the hair beneath it. “Not this time, little witch. You told me to do anything I had to do to keep us safe. I’m not leaving this room until you finish your bath. I won’t peek.”

  It was the return of that lop-sided grin that melted her anger but she tried to make him think she was still in control. “I don’t need … Dak! What are you doing? Put me down!”

  The infuriating man had her slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain! This couldn't be happening. As long as he wore the amulet he had to obey her commands.

  "Dak!"

  "Relax, little witch, you don't want to wade through all this mud. Do you?"

  As suddenly as he lifted her, he set her feet on the wobbly stool. Clutching his shoulders for balance, she found herself eye level with her handsome Anderan. Their gazes locked and for the span of a single heartbeat she glimpsed the man he was before. Before Safe Haven. Before Murdock's slave market. Before she involved him in her problems.

  "I wouldn't wiggle around too much on this stool but it should work well enough to keep your boots dry.” Dak released his grip on her waist and turned to the doorway. "No one will disturb your bath."

  Without another word or glance in her direction Dak stood blocking the entrance to the room. Shoulders back, feet spread for balance, hands clasped behind his back, he reminded her of the guards at the city gates. Here was another piece of the puzzle of Dak, the man. He would stand there, protecting her, for as long as she wanted to stay in the water. It wasn't just the stone around his neck. It was his personal integrity; his belief in the responsibilities of a man to protect all who are weaker.

  "Need help with your buttons, little witch?"

  Dak's teasing comment jolted her out of her musing.

  "I don't know where to put my clothes.” She didn't have any intention of letting him know how much time she spent thinking about him.

  He backed up the two paces between her and the doorway. "Toss them over my shoulder. Do you have clean clothes with you?"


  "In the inside pocket of the cape. I'll look like I slept in them, but at least they'll be clean." She hurried to undress, not entirely comfortable with Dak so close but not willing to give up this rare treat. As soon as she climbed over the rim into the water he moved back to his position by the door.

  The water was hot but not too uncomfortable and the algae on the bottom felt like lush moss carpet. With a deep sigh, she sank to her chin letting the natural effervescence of the minerals soothe away her worries. A small wooden bowl attached to the edge of the tub held soft soap and a clean cloth. With a delighted giggle, she quickly removed the pins from her hair, scrubbing until every strand squeaked. Only then did she turn her attention to the rest of her body, thoroughly enjoying her first full bath since she left for Safe Haven eight days ago. Eight days of settling for a quick wash and a change of underclothing. She really hoped Dak didn't get too impatient but she just couldn't make herself hurry.

  There was that giggle again. It sure didn't take much to make his crystal witch happy. A slimy, wooden tub sitting in the mud and smelling of mold and mildew--hell, the pigs at Falcon Tor lived better than this. What kind of life have you had, little witch, if this is a treat for you?

  Dak thought of the massive, blue marble tub in his bathroom at the palace. He could stretch full out and not touch any side. As tiny as Kierin was she'd get lost in the bubbles created by all the jets. Dak’s active imagination pictured an entirely different bath.

  The mirrored room would be hazy with the steam from the bubbling water. His soap was scented with forest moss, but he would make allowances for Kierin and add something a little more exotic. Dak remembered JarDan showing up on the practice field more than once smelling like Melodie’s favorite spring flowers. Not even the ribald comments of the men could wipe the smile from his brother's face.

 

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