Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector

by Cheryl Johnson

  As soon as Dak finished his meal and cleaned their dishes he headed for his own bed. Willing to trust the doctor’s sleeping remedy, he left the whiskey in the store room and swallowed the pill with plain water. Within minutes he could feel the effects as his body relaxed into the mattress. Yes! He was getting sleepy.

  ARRRGGGG!!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? YOU LIED TO ME!

  Dak jumped when the scream split the morning air. “What the hell?” He looked around and found no one.

  I thought you were Anderan but you can’t be! You were my only hope for a son but you lied and this baby is a girl. There’s no hope left. We’re both going to die.

  “Kierin?”

  She wasn’t there. She was in his head but it wasn’t anger he felt from her. It was fear and a total loss of hope. The vice around his chest tightened until he gasped for breath. A baby girl. Part of him wanted the softness a child would offer. Another part mourned the loss of his home and everyone he cared about because of that innocent child. And Kierin? Where did she fit in this maelstrom of emotions threatening to crush him? Before he could sort through the jumble, the sleeping pill took control and he slipped into the first deep night’s sleep he’d had in months.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “If you wish to live another hour you will explain why you failed--again.” Draagon’s words carried death despite their soft utterance.

  “My Lord,” Jud bowed his head, “I traced the path of the scouting party when they failed to return. Seven days ride south I found what remained of their bodies. There was no clue as to why they were attacked or who killed them.”

  “Then why do I allow you to still breathe, Jud?” Draagon thought highly of his Captain of the Guard. He had served him loyally for many years. Few men lasted long in service to the Phantom Riders. There was no tolerance for failure.

  “Because I found the trail of their attackers.” Jud kept his tone flat, devoid of inflection.

  Allowing himself to relax slightly, Draagon leaned back against the only chair in the cheap room. He barely noticed the smell of rot and decay from the moldy windows or the threadbare rugs covering the warped wooden floor. He deserved better than this hovel but that would come when he found Kierin. She was the key to his success and he was growing weary of this chase.

  In total silence, he watched Jud until a single drop of perspiration rolled down the man’s temple. Draagon gave a slight grin that brought more sweat to Jud’s face. It was really too easy to manipulate lesser men.

  “Excellent. Where did this trail lead you?”

  “We lost the trail in a sand storm, my Lord. There are three villages within a day’s ride of where the trail ended. Villagers in all three describe the crystal witch, Kierin. She delivers herbs and amulets to them several times a year. She was expected a month ago so they hope to see her soon. It appears she is well liked. I’ve posted guards at each city gate with orders to send word of her arrival. They are to watch her but not to interact with her in any way until you arrive. If she leaves, they are to follow at a discrete distance and keep me posted about her direction.”

  Draagon fought to draw air into his lungs. He found her!

  “You have redeemed yourself admirably. There will be an extra gold coinin your pay this quarter. Send additional men to each village.”

  “My Lord, we don’t have enough men to conquer them at the same time.”

  “Not conquer, Jud, monitor. I want a more covert action. Get rid of the guards at the gates. She would spot them long before she walked into my trap. Send your men in without force, in plain garments. If the peasants feel no threat, they will freely give away their information. As soon as word circulates that my wife-to-be has arrived, I’ll join them with the bulk of our army.

  “As you command, Lord Draagon.” Jud slapped his fist against his chest in salute and prepared to leave.

  “One more thing before you go.” Draagon waited for several seconds, relishing what was to come. “You and your team will each receive five lashes for losing the original trail. Dismissed.”

  He needed to be closer to these villages. Tomorrow, he and his Phantom Riders would head to the most central of the three villages. That would bring him close enough to enjoy the hunt.

  * * * *

  Draagon stared into the small fire struggling against the dampness that permeated this miserable slum at the edge of nowhere. How can a building in the middle of the desert be damp and moldy? There was a water source hidden beneath this building, he was sure of it. This hovel and the water hidden beneath it would provide a hefty income. Travelers heading into the desert would pay dearly for enough water to see them to the next village. If not for his urgent need to find Kierin, he would do much more than control this hamlet.

  For years he’s wandered the galaxy, searching for the one promised to him by his mother. Now, finally, all his dreams were within his grasp. With one hand stroking the crystals around his neck and the other stroking his crotch, he allowed the memories and the fantasy to merge and obliterate the dismal condition of his latest headquarters.

  She’s your sister, mother had whispered, but she took that secret to her grave along with the girl’s name. Said she drugged my father after he chose another for his mate and milked him like a prized bull. The bastard never knew what happened. Mother refused to name my father. All the bitch would say was that he took his family from the home world. But I’ve found them and they’re all dead--except the daughter. Kierin. She holds the power. My power. She belongs to me. Mother promised the power would be all mine at the birth of my child. Those were the last coherent words from Mother’s mouth.

  The psychotic bitch believed there would be no incest since I came from a test tube. I don’t really care. One cunt feels like any other in the dark. Sex is about power and control. Intercourse is messy. Disgusting, if you think about it. However, it is a most unique method of torture and degradation. The power comes from control. And pain. Mustn’t forget the bliss that comes from inflicting pain. I should have taken more time with Mother but I was young and didn’t have the control I have now. It would take her much longer to die today.

  Kierin will learn. It will take years of suffering before I give her the release of death. She has cost me men and coin and extreme displeasure. I’ll have to be more forgiving at first. But as soon as I impregnate her and she delivers a healthy female child to me, her lessons will become much more … deviant.

  * * * *

  Kierin wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, snuggled beneath the warm blankets. All of her efforts to protect her father’s secret and save her life were as useless as dead crystals. Regret sat heavy on her chest, threatening to suffocate her. There was nothing to be done now but survive as long as she was able. Draagon had many enemies. If the Goddess of Goodness and Light smiled on her, one of those enemies would solve her problem by killing the evil man. Life would be good if that happened. It was wrong to wish for the death of another soul but that man didn’t deserve to exist.

  Her father didn’t know how long his crystal would hold a charge. It was possible it could last indefinitely. Her life here with her baby would be practically perfect. It was a good dream and gave her a small nugget of hope and that was enough to keep the despair at bay.

  Placing a hand on her still flat stomach, Kierin smiled. A daughter. Not what she expected or hoped for, but a tiny part of Dak for her to love. This she didn’t regret. Although conceived in lies and deception, this baby was a precious gift.

  “So quit feeling sorry for yourself and get up. Draagon has been after you for years and you’re still breathing and not even the Warlords can get past the gate. However, starvation is a distinct possibility if you don’t get merchandise ready for market.”

  Her toes curled against the cold stone floor. Winter would be here soon. Standing slowly, waiting for the usual bout of nausea, she was surprised when nothing erupted. For the first time in months she actually felt good. “Please, Goddess, don’t let Dak eat another bite of
that disgusting animal he craves.”

  Kierin shuddered at the memory of the slimy texture of that boiled abomination sliding down Dak’s throat. Being linked to another definitely had its drawbacks. She couldn’t help the small giggle when she remembered what happened when she lifted the block on her morning sickness. Didn’t do much good, though. He still craved it.

  Munching on a slice of fresh bread, she headed to the barn to feed her animals. Talon refused to keep the horse he rode when she left him in Cypriana. He insisted on paying her and brought her a goat and more chickens as well as some much needed food supplies. She tried again to convince him to stay with her until spring. He needed time to adjust to the changes in his vision and his lifestyle. His bitterness ate away at the man he used to be until she barely recognized him now. He blamed her for keeping him alive. Only time would tell what he did with his life.

  “Good morning, ladies. You need to eat the grasses in the field quickly. Snow will cover it and then you’ll be stuck eating bland, dry hay.” Dak had cut and stacked so much hay that she could feed twice as many animals for several years.

  Everywhere she looked she saw the things he accomplished that made her life easier and more comfortable. The crude lean-to built by her brother was merely a memory. This warm barn with three stalls stood in its place. The open field outside the rear door now lay inside a sturdy corral. The wee babe he left wouldn’t be the only reminder of his impact on her world.

  After milking the goat and putting fresh feed and water in all the bins and buckets, she sat with her “family” while they ate.

  “I shouldn’t have yelled at Dak,” she explained to them, “but this baby girl took me by surprise. Now that’s an enormous understatement. He told me about the water causing the problems on his world but I was so focused on conceiving a son that it just didn’t register.”

  The goat gently butted her shoulder. “Alright. Don’t get pushy. I admit I didn’t want to think about the possibility. Happy now, Miss Bossy?” When the goat trotted to the barn door, Kierin laughed. “If I give you such an impressive name then I better name the others, too.

  Let’s see … horse, you just became Rocky because your back is as hard as one. Rooster, I’ll call you Sunshine because you herald the morning.” Looking at the two dozen chickens, she shook her head and giggled. “Too many for names so you ladies get a group name--Girls.”

  Happy with her world once again, Kierin opened the rear door so her family could enjoy the late fall weather and she headed back to her workroom. There was a tremendous amount of work to be done before she could go to market.

  She was halfway across the small yard when the image of Dak in bed with another woman knocked her to her knees. Pain doubled her over as soul wrenching sobs shook her body. Forcing her trembling limbs to move, Kierin stumbled blindly to the one place she could escape the betrayal, the one place that would shield her from what was happening. Every step through her home and down the narrow corridor was agony. She had to stop twice to empty the contents of her stomach from the smell of her perfume.

  Never was she as grateful for the shielding properties of this section of her fortress as she was at this moment. Blessed emptiness flooded her senses.

  She hated this room growing up. Her father’s secret and what it cost her family was impossible to ignore once inside. How ironic that it was now her only salvation. A mated crystal witch was incapable of cheating on his or her mate. It was naïve of her to expect the same from other species, but oh how that knowledge hurt. Curling into a ball in the farthest corner of the small chamber, Kierin let the pain and anguish consume her.

  Chapter Twenty

  “What the hell?!” Dak bellowed. “Who the hell are you? How did you get in here? Get off me?!”

  He flung the woman off his chest fighting the remnants of the sleeping pill the doctor gave him. Sitting on the side of the bed, he glared at the strange woman without a stitch of clothing on her abundant curves.

  “Don’ be mad, sugar. Jamison said you wanted a good time.” She crawled forward to nuzzle her face against his lifeless crotch.

  “I’ll kill him.” Dak muttered. “Get out! And don’t ever come near me again!” Grabbing her arm, he hoisted her to her feet and marched her to the door of the bar.

  “What about my clothes and my gold coin?” She screamed when he shoved her toward the street.

  “Take it up with Jamison. If the bastard is still alive after I find him.”

  Slamming the door and ignoring the screams and the pounding on the door, he shook with disgust. “JAMISON! Get your sorry ass in here or I’ll take this place apart looking for you!”

  A belligerent Jamison stomped through the bar. “What the hell ya yellin’ about? Tol’ ya what ya needed wuz ta get laid. Bess is the best in the bizness. Ya should be thankin’ me ‘stead of yellin’.”

  “When I want another woman in my bed ….” Dak stopped. Dawning horror rocked him to his core.

  Kierin knows about the woman! She believes I brought another woman to my bed. By the Beard of the Prophet, she would never forgive him. Ignoring Jamison, Dak stumbled back to his room.

  A huge gaping … emptiness … drove him to his knees. He never realized that Kierin was constantly in his head. Sure, he thought about her constantly and logically he knew she was there when the morning sickness started. But he never felt her presence as a constant--until it was no longer there. Could she totally block him?

  He should be grateful not devastated. Now he could get on with his life. Yet, all he wanted was to hold her and do whatever it took to make this right. Nothing made sense anymore. How could both ends of that argument mean so much to him?

  Are you there, Little Witch? I didn’t do this to you--to us. Trust me, Kierin. Please. He didn’t know if she heard him and refused to believe it was permanent.

  Spotting the whore’s clothes, Dak opened the window and threw them out. The stench of her cheap perfume burned his nose so he left the window open to clear the air. Grabbing the pitcher of water, he scrubbed at the lingering feel and smell of Bess on his skin. When he felt clean again he lay back on his bed. Several serious issues warred within his heart and brain and he had to deal with them. It was time to get off that emotional fence and decide what he wanted for the rest of his life. First and foremost, he had to deal with Kierin. What did he want? Why was he so lost without her presence? Did he want that commitment? What was he prepared to do to win her back?

  * * * *

  “Ya doin’ okay, Dak?” Jamison quietly asked from his position behind the bar.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” Dak didn’t want to talk to Jamison. He was still pissed at the man’s interference. What he really wanted was to punch something but he was too tired from lack of sleep and worry to make the effort. It was just another page from the story that was his life for the past year. Events calling for action came with tentacles of rules and emotions and any number of other issues binding his need for action. Long hours of endless questions and he still couldn’t come up with a plan of action that solved all his problems.

  He had to return to Kierin.

  He needed to contact JarDan.

  He wanted to find the rest of his crew.

  He felt like the needle on a broken compass. With nothing to point him in the right direction, he just spun around and around in endless circles. Kierin was the magnet he needed but he honestly didn’t know if she would listen to anything he had to say.

  There were many times in his life when he wished he were more like JarDan. The minute JarDan saw Melodie he knew she was his life mate. He never doubted his decision no matter how hard Melodie fought against their joining. They were so happy together and the baby just made their world complete.

  Dak never wanted a love match. The pain of losing someone he loved was a constant ache in his heart. First his parents then JarDan’s mother, Arica, who took a young orphaned boy into her heart.

  He wanted a suitable mate of his choosing and s
ons to carry on his name. Nothing more than a business decision. Both parties agreeing to a mutually beneficial arrangement. He didn’t choose Kierin. She was the wrong mate. She didn’t come from one of the planets colonized by the Ancients as dictated by Anderan law. The baby they created made him a felon, the act punishable by death. Yet, for all the reasons she was wrong he couldn’t imagine anyone else in his life, his heart, or his bed. For months he’d blamed this need to be near her on the crystals. Any excuse to deny what was happening. Now it may be too late.

  I’m coming home, Little Witch. We can get through this. He waited for long minutes but no answer filled the void in his soul. The pain of her rejection choked the air from his lungs. Fighting past the pain, fighting this hopelessness was every bit as hard as hand-to-hand combat. Just like combat, he was fighting for his life. In combat he knew the power of his arm, the sharpness of his sword. In an emotional battle he was unarmed and ignorant of the rules.

  Forcing air into his lungs, Dak straightened to his full height and took the first step toward control of his life. And it felt GOOD!

  The stakes were high among players at Jamison’s busiest table and he needed a big win. He needed fifty gold coins to contact JarDan and enough to support Kierin and the baby. The fortune he inherited from his parents didn’t do him a damn bit of good on Cyperia. He only had thirty gold and a small handful of silver coins. Don’t let me fuck this up, too. Wiping his sweaty hands against his pants, Dak whipped a chair from a nearby table and sat down.

  “Mind if I join you?” He asked dropping a small bag of coins on the table.

  “The buy in is five gold coins. You got that much in that puny bag?” The player with the fewest coins was always the one looking for a fight. This guy was a miner with more coin than skill. He would be the easiest man to beat. The other four weren’t as easy to read. That unknown element kept him sweating. Not a good sign to the other players. Get it under control, dumb ass. Keep this up and you’ll walk across that desert.