Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector

by Cheryl Johnson

  "We finally agree on something. What I do know is that we are not staying in a public camp. Unless you give me a direct order to stay put, I’m going to scout around and find an area where we can be relatively assured of a quiet night’s rest."

  She felt overwhelmed by his hostility. There was nothing in his voice or actions. The amulet still controlled those. This was something she felt. Acknowledging his concerns, she nodded her agreement.

  "As long as you make no attempt to escape. How long do you think you’ll be gone?"

  "I’ll be back before dark."

  He untied the packhorse, handed the rope to Kierin and wheeled his horse toward the trees. He hadn’t gone more than a few yards when he suddenly turned and came back to her.

  "Keep moving north but keep to the edge of the road. There’s not much protection here. We would be in a better position if we were deeper into the forest. If you hear anyone coming, move off into the tall grass and trees. Stay as quiet as possible. And Kierin," he paused until she looked him in the eye, "I’ve never left a woman alone and unprotected in my life. Your command was unnecessary."

  Kierin watched until he disappeared in a cloud of dust. She had the definite impression that she’d just insulted him. He had no reason to feel that way. She was perfectly justified in her assumption that he might try to escape. He told her quite plainly on Safe Haven that he would escape. Were all men so confusing? Or only Anderan men? Or just Dak?

  Confusion seemed to be her constant companion today. It was bad enough when she couldn’t get her mind off of Dak’s kiss. That she could understand. There was absolutely no excuse for the daydreams that continued to fill her head. She had to get control of herself before he came back. This trip was beginning to take a toll on her, both physically and mentally. She was tired and stiff from the afternoon in the saddle. Her longest ride was no farther than the four villages near her fortress where she sold her healing crystals, herbs and potions. A two-hour trip once a month didn’t prepare muscles for such extended activity. Stretching her back, she wished her latest daydream could be real--at least long enough for him to rub the stiffness from her back.

  She was picking her way through the edge of the forest when she sensed his presence. She stopped and waited for him to reach her, never questioning that he was near. Within minutes, he appeared through the trees beside her.

  "I found a spot less than a mile from here. Did you see anyone?"

  At the shake of her head, Dak headed back the way he came expecting her to follow him. For the life of her, she couldn’t come up with a single objection to him being in charge of their safety. It felt so good to have someone to lean on for a change. Too good. She was in big trouble.

  Chapter Eight

  Kierin stirred the pot of vegetables stewing over the fire and tried hard to ignore Dak. She desperately needed a focus session, preferably somewhere isolated, somewhere he couldn't intrude. She needed to regain her mental balance. In just a few days together, she’d come to depend on his presence in her life. He was everything she’d ever dreamed a man could be and more. Very soon he’d be on his way back to Anderas. It was what she promised herself when this insane idea first occurred to her. Knowing what she had to do before she could let him out of her life and back into his own didn't make it any easier. She was afraid Dak was already and forever a permanent part of her heart and soul.

  Satisfied that their dinner wasn't in any danger of burning, she settled back against her saddle to sip the fragrant clover tea. Finding a patch of fresh pink clover in the shade of the thorn vines this late in the year was a rare treat. What they didn't use tonight she'd take home with her. It would be a warm welcome during the coming winter.

  Dak chose well for their camp. The horseshoe shape of the clearing came from a copse of tangled thorn vines and thick evergreens. Across the back there was a section of trees petrified from the subterranean mineral springs. Unless Draagon's Phantom Riders wore body armor, they would have to come at them straight in from the meadow. The hot water that bubbled up into a shallow rock pool would make a perfect bathing spot--if it were more than six inches deep.

  The open end of their camp gave a spectacular view of the vast open plain separating the populated area and the frontier beyond the mountains. The waist high grasses, swaying golden in the late afternoon sun, were silent evidence of approaching winter. So supple were the stalks that not even the small kava could move through the grass without notice. It was beautiful and peaceful and she felt safe here with Dak. She hated to admit that in all the trips she'd made between her fortress and the city, she'd never noticed this beautiful meadow.

  Dak noticed. He always noticed what wasn't readily visible and reacted accordingly. In spite of the stone around his neck, he never stopped being a warrior. He would be a valuable asset to his king. Someone with his skills and abilities wouldn't be easy to replace. How soon before search parties reached this far from Anderas? How soon before he was no longer part of her life?

  Despite all of her internal instructions to ignore him, she couldn't stop watching him prepare their camp for the night. At some point in the process, he'd removed his shirt. The muscles across his back and shoulders bunched and flexed with his movements. There was little visible evidence of his treatment at the slave market and she took pleasure, even a small measure of pride, in her ability to heal the mighty warrior. Sweat glistened on his skin and every few minutes he'd wipe his brow with his forearm.

  Kierin decided that she liked watching Dak. Liked it a lot. "As soon as you finish with the horses, you need to clean up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

  "Whatever you want, little witch."

  The man was impossible. From the minute he led them into this haven his attitude had been--different. Nothing specific. Nothing she could identify. Just--different. Was every word out of his mouth loaded with double meanings? Or did her daydreams have her hearing more than he was saying? The soft tone of his voice hadn’t changed since Safe Haven. So why did she suddenly believe each word dripped with unspoken promises? She'd have a better chance of regaining control if she knew exactly what those promises were about. Innocence was a distinct disadvantage.

  "Another day like today and my innocence will be strictly physical.” Her mumbled complaint didn't stop the images racing around in her head nor cool the fire in her blood. She really had to stop thinking about her daydreams.

  Kierin was no stranger to rugged conditions and Dak had to admire the quiet, efficient way she assumed her share of getting them ready for the night. By the time he’d unloaded the packhorse and unsaddled their mounts she had a small, smokeless fire burning and a pot of something simmering for their dinner. It was then, when she had nothing to keep her mind occupied, that Dak began to feel her interest.

  He felt Kierin’s gaze as surely as if she’d touched him. Every few minutes he’d catch a fragment of her thoughts and knew she was still thinking about him and the gentle massage from earlier in the afternoon. It was her constant attention that prompted him to remove his shirt. It was time for a little more mental seduction. Nothing elaborate nor too intimate--just enough to keep her imagination spinning and her body wanting more.

  Murmuring quietly, Dak caressed Kierin’s mare with the scrap of cloth, drawing the soft material across the quivering shoulder muscles.

  "That's a good girl. Just relax and I'll make you feel better.” Dak whispered endearments to the docile animal and carefully slipped into Kierin’s thoughts.

  "Are your muscles sore from the ride, little witch?” Dak dropped to his knees in the soft grass behind Kierin. "Let me help."

  With slow, sure strokes, he massaged the tight muscles in her neck and shoulders. When Kierin relaxed against his chest, Dak eased her down on her bedroll, silencing her mumbled protest with a fingertip against her lips. "Relax. I'm just going to make you feel better."

  With a lingering caress of her bottom lip, Dak turned his attention to her back, working the tension out one muscle at a ti
me. He felt the soft moans reverberate through her chest. In one smooth move, Dak straddled her thighs and slid his hands beneath her tunic. Gradually, as each muscle group softened beneath his palms, he altered his efforts until his therapeutic massage turned into a lover's caress. From the small of her back to her shoulders, Dak stroked and petted until she arched her back in response to his touch. The silky material of her tunic bunched beneath her arms as Dak bared her back to his gaze.

  "So soft," he murmured as his fingertips drew erotic patterns across her skin. Careful to keep his touch light, Dak leaned forward and nuzzled the tender flesh from waist to neck before pulling back and smoothing her tunic into place.

  "Whatever you're cooking smells good. I'll be ready in just a minute.” Dak tossed the scrap of damp cloth across a bush to dry and turned to face Kierin. In another place, another time, the man Dak was--before Safe Haven, before the influence of the stone around his neck--would never leave a woman in her condition. Even in the failing light of sunset he could see her confusion. Arousal brightened her eyes and heightened the color in her cheeks. Her ragged breathing threatened to turn to tears of frustration and knowing he was the cause of her distress sickened him. It shouldn't have to be like this.

  Dak hardened his heart and ruthlessly swallowed the apology that threatened to explode from his lips. It's your ticket home. Remember that. Muttering under his breath, Dak headed for the pool of hot water. By the time he'd washed away the smell of horses and sweat, Kierin had their dinner served.

  Darkness brought an increased sense of intimacy to the camp. Nothing existed outside the glow from the fire pit except the call of night birds and the occasional sounds of foraging animals in the woods behind them. With their meal complete and the camp cleared of all the remains that might attract wild animals, Kierin was at a loss for something to do. She'd already made a trip as far into the trees as she dared go, to take care of her personal needs. Unable to deal with Dak's watchful silence or her daydreams, Kierin decided to take refuge in sleep and prayed her dreams would be less disturbing in the dark.

  "It's been a long day. I think I'll … Dak!"

  Dak pulled Kierin across the fire and under him as the laser gun blast exploded the top of the trees behind them, sending a shower of leaves, branches and rock-hard rubble raining down.

  Covering her mouth with his hand, Dak whispered into her ear. "Don't move and don't make a sound."

  When she nodded her understanding, he eased to the side. Scooting on his belly, Dak worked his way around the fire until he reached the water bag. Grabbing the small knife from beside the stack of clean dishes, Dak slit the water bag. The rush of water extinguished the fire instantly and gave them a thick cover of smoke.

  Crawling back to where Kierin waited motionless on the ground, he circled her waist with his arm. "Stay low and try to make as little noise as possible. We've got to get to the cover of the thorn bushes before his eyes adjust to the darkness."

  Dak pulled Kierin along the ground, inching their way toward the meager protection of the petrified trees. Some bodyguard you turned out to be. If he'd been thinking about something--anything--except Kierin, he would have heard the sniper approach. He prayed there was only one but his gut instinct told him there were several.

  The night sky suddenly exploded with the blasts of a dozen or more laser guns. Glowing yellow beams crossed and crisscrossed each other around the clearing. The tethered horses didn't stand a chance and in seconds their frightened screams ended as suddenly as this attack began.

  Damn, he hated it when his gut was right. It was just a matter of time before their attackers spotted them scooting toward the trees.

  "Hurry, Kierin," Dak urged. "They're firing in all directions to light up the area. When they locate us, this will get ugly real fast."

  Dak pushed Kierin under the vines, protecting her as much as possible from the thorns. When they were as deep into the thicket as he could go, he pulled Kierin against his chest, using his arms to keep the sharp barbs from embedding themselves into her skin.

  "It's a Phantom Rider patrol, isn't it?” Kierin whispered against his throat.

  "That's my guess. Unless you have someone else trying to kill you. Now be quiet and try not to move around. These thorns could peel the hide off a rock."

  Dak had been in some tight spots before but never like this. They were truly alone. No weapon. No way to escape even if there were a trail through this thicket. No hope.

  "Dak …?"

  Dak heard the fear in her voice and knew there was nothing he could do or say to give her peace of mind. Pulling her a little tighter against his chest, he breathed in the unique fragrance that was hers.

  "What, little witch?"

  "We're going to die, aren't we?"

  It wasn't a question. It was simple acceptance of a fate she couldn't control or change.

  "I'm afraid so, baby. Unless you've got some witch magic hidden in one of those pockets of yours, all they have to do is wait for daylight."

  "There's no such thing as witch magic, Dak. True power comes from the mind."

  Dak didn't realize how badly he wanted her to have some of the magical powers Murdock accused her of having until he heard her admit the truth. A magic spell or two would go a long way.

  The night passed in agonizing slowness marked only by the occasional laser gun blasts from the Phantom Rider patrol. With nothing to shield their bodies, the dropping temperatures added another level of danger. Dak wondered if Draagon would appreciate the irony of capturing Kierin so he could kill her only to have her die from exposure. He could feel the shudders that racked her body and there wasn’t anything he could about that, either. If he tried to cover her body with his own, he risked crushing her with his weight. If he pulled her onto his body, the thorn vines would rip her tender skin to shreds. Pulling Kierin tight against his chest, he stroked her arms and back within the limits of the thorns and marked the passing hours with the beat of his own heart.

  It was time to stop his whining and complaining and take charge of his life again. He happened to be the personal property of a crystal witch. Accept it. Deal with it. Get on with living. JarDan was looking for him; he had no doubt of that. It all came down to something as simple as time.

  For more than six months, his life--his very existence--depended on someone else and he was sick of it. A man took responsibility for his own destiny. He had the best training available in tactical warfare, hand-to-hand combat and survival. Yet, here he was, huddled in the dark, waiting to die. He had to do something. He had Kierin’s paring knife. If he could work his way through the tangle of thorns, he might be able to get behind the patrol. All he needed was one laser gun and he could even the odds enough to give them a chance.

  "Stay here. I'm going to try to get behind them."

  "No! You can't go! You'll die before you get across the clearing. You have to stay right where you are!"

  He tried to move, but couldn't. He couldn't even release his hold on her. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Dak cursed the stone around his neck and the woman who controlled it.

  By all the ancient prophets, why am I able to act on my own some of the time? Why not now? When our lives depend on it?

  "Release me from the stone, Kierin, or we'll die. I can give you a chance to escape."

  When he felt her shake her head in denial, Dak did something he'd never done in his life.

  "Please, Kierin. I'm begging you. Release me. Trust me, little witch. I know what I'm doing. If we stay here, we’re going to freeze to death before they get the chance to do the deed themselves."

  "You can't possibly win against Draagon's laser guns. I couldn't bear to watch you die."

  "We're going to die anyway. Please, Kierin. Let me die fighting. Let me die like a man not hiding like some frightened kava."

  Before Kierin could answer his plea, Dak noticed a change in the firing pattern. There were fewer laser guns firing into the clearing, and there was one firing into the meadow.
Someone was out there. Someone was fighting against the Phantom Riders. It could only be Talon.

  Within minutes the firing had all but stopped as fewer and fewer shots crossed the clearing. In the distance Dak heard the thunder of galloping horses but he remained motionless in the thorns. Even if he knew it was safe to leave their cover, Kierin’s command to remain hidden kept him immobile.

  He'd been fooling himself all along. All his planning and plotting were nothing more than mental exercises. There would be no escape from Kierin and her damned crystals. For the first time since his capture on Safe Haven, Dak acknowledged defeat.

  If I'd been any kind of real man, I'd have found a way out of this mess. No, I have to wait for JarDan to find me. I have to wait for Talon to save my ass.

  His actions--even though controlled by Kierin’s amulet--branded him a coward. The fact that Talon would witness his ultimate humiliation was acid in his heart.

  "Dak! Kierin! Where are you?"

  "It's Talon! Dak, Talon saved our lives! Come on, we have to let him know we're unharmed!” Kierin struggled free of Dak's embrace. "Talon! Thank the Goddess Jovena you're here!"

  "Are you or Dak injured, Lady Kierin?"

  "We're fine, thanks to you. Dak wanted to try and sneak out and find them, but I wouldn't let him. He would have been killed. Dak? Why are you still hiding back there? It's safe to come out, now."

  Talon saved our lives … still hiding … safe to come out.

  Kierin’s condemnations echoed around and around in his head cutting deeper than any sword. Deadlier than any laser gun. Everything he believed about himself--as a man--as a warrior--shriveled and died. Images from past battles flashed like lightning, each scene driving the truth deeper into his heart.

  Not once in your entire life have you had to stand on your own. JarDan was there or the Royal Guard was there. Hell, it took a woman--a nine-month pregnant woman--to save the life of your brother. You just stood on the sidelines and watched. No wonder this tiny, delicate woman with a price on her head would put her trust in a bounty hunter--an assassin--rather than you. She can see you for what you really are--a goddamned coward.