Before Dak could answer, Jamison stepped up and put the five coins on the table. “If he don’ I do. Now play cards.”
Dak glared at Jamison but the old man just winked and walked away. Fine. Let the bastard stake me the ante. As an apology, I guess it works as well as anything else.
For several hours coins changed hands at a slow pace. Dak now had enough to contact JarDan but he needed a substantial number of coins to support Kierin until help arrived from Anderas. He needed to up the stakes and prayed to the Ancients he wasn’t making the second biggest mistake of his life.
After one look at his hand, he allowed a small grin to twitch the edges of his mouth and pushed every carefully stacked coin into the middle of the table. Bile churned in his gut as each man around the table raised the bet. He had nothing else. You idiot! Why did you think they wouldn’t call your bluff? With a sickening heart, Dak picked up his cards to toss them into the pile.
Jamison slammed a restraining hand on his arm and laid down a piece of paper. “This here is the deed ta the bar and every scrap of wood ‘n drop of liquor in it. It’s worth a dang sight more ‘n everythin’ on that table. I’m coverin’ Dak’s bet ‘n anythin’ that goes higher. I seen his hand and I ain’t gonna lose nothin’.”
“I can’t let you do that.” Dak argued.
“Tol’ ya afore, yur a good man ‘n I only bet on a sure thing.”
“But ….”
“Shut up, Dak and raise the bet.” Jamison wouldn’t give him the chance to explain.
“I bet Jamison’s bar.” Dak pushed the deed into the center and prayed they wouldn’t be homeless after tonight. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t one man after another throwing his cards down, pulling out of the chance to take the pot. He didn’t know if he should jump and shout or puke and pass out.
Every man in the bar had gathered around this game and not a one of them had dared to speak. Tonight’s entertainment would be the talk of the town for years to come. Dak ignored everyone but the men at his table. They were the only ones between him and whatever life he chose.
The loudmouth waited, watching and weighing the cards in his hand with what Jamison claimed Dak held. Finally, he threw them down. “If that old hard-ass is willin’ to risk this place on what you’re holdin’, I’m out. Exactly what kind of hand do you have?”
“He ain’ gotta show his hand ‘n ya know it. Jus’ push them coins over this direction and get on about yur bizness. Me ‘n Dak got some bizness of our own to conduct.”
Raising his voice to be heard above the noise of the bar, Jamison bellowed. “That’s all the excitement for tonight. Call it a night, folks. I’m closin’ early. Yur welcome to come by fer breakfast in about four hours if ya want but I’m jus’ plain tuckered out.”
An hour and several grumbling arguments later everyone was gone and the place was cleaned and ready for the next day’s crowd.
“Why did you do that?” Dak asked Jamison when they settled down with a drink to count all the coins. “I’ll split the pot with you but the deed doesn’t count as winnings.”
“I seen yur cards ‘n ya didn’ have a pigs chance o’ winnin’. Figured we had to bluff big to save yur bacon. Worked real good, too, if I do say so myself.” The old man chuckled at his devious trick.
“You could have lost the bar. This place is everything you own. That was a hellava risk to take.” Dak would never understand why anyone would take such a risk for someone they barely knew.
“I figured I owed it ta ya after that thing with Bess this mornin’. If I’d knowed ya had a woman ya cared for so much I never woulda done such a fool thing. I’m real sorry, Dak.” Jamison leaned back and looked around the quiet bar. New tables and chairs now filled the large room and a fancy carved bar, thanks to Dak’s skill with a carving knife, ran the length of one long wall. It was a nice place and brought in a small fortune every night.
“This ain’ all I own by a long shot. Me ‘n Gussie got a place over the other side of this planet. Sits right on the water. Fount gold there more’n a dozen years back. After a while there wernt nothin’ left I wanted ta buy ‘n Gussie was naggin’ ‘bout travelin’ ‘n spendin’ quality time jus’ her ‘n me. Well, I took it in my head I wanted ta own a bar. Ya never heard such a carryin’ on. Gussie weren’t havin’ nothin’ ta do with no bar. So I left one day ‘n ended up here.”
Jamison leveled his determined gaze on Dak. “I don’ know who yur runnin’ from or why but if ya got a woman what loves ya as much as Gussie loves me don’ ya ever give up on her. I did me some soul searchin’ and made me some decisions. I’m gonna let my woman know if she wants me she takes me like I am--bar ‘n all. But … if she says no … well, I may end up selling this place. Gotta admit, I’ve missed that gal somethin’ awful. If ya breathe a word of that I’ll cut yur gizzard right outta yur neck.”
Dak laughed at his friend. “Here’s your half of the pot and your secrets are safe with me.”
“I don’ want nothin’ but the deed to this place ‘n the five gold coins I tossed in the pot. The rest is yurs. If ya’ve a mind to tell a few of yur secrets I’d be willin’ to keep ‘em safe, too.”
Dak was stunned at the amount of money Jamison was refusing. There was over ten thousand gold coins plus all the silver coins. “I don’t know what to say. “Thank you” doesn’t seem adequate for all this but … thank you. I have enough to contact my family and the rest can be used to locate my crew.”
Dak was quiet for several minutes while he sipped on his whiskey. He owed Jamison the truth. He couldn’t do anything until the Communication Center opened so a few hours spent together sounded very good.
“My name is Beldon Dak from the planet Anderas. I’m third in line for the throne of Falcon Tor.”
“Damn, boy. Didn’ know I had friggin’ royalty workin’ here. La de da, kinda gives the place a little class, don’cha think?”
“You are one crazy son-of-a-bitch. You know that?” Dak laughed until tears ran from his eyes. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted ….”
“Mouthy bastard.” Jamison mumbled.
“My crew and I were captured on Safe Haven and sold into slavery. I was bought by a crystal witch. Let’s just say she had a unique method of control. We ended up in her fortress, a good ten days ride from here. I agreed to stay for thirty days in exchange for a list of the people who purchased slaves during the time we were held captive. I hated those crystals and what they could do and I counted down the days until I could leave.” Dak refused to tell Jamison about Kierin’s secret or why she needed an Anderan male.
“It wasn’t until I was here that I realized what I left behind. As soon as I can send word to the king and let him know I’m alive and where I am, I’m going back. I said some things that hurt her deeply. I just hope I can win her trust again. I don’t know what I’ll do if she ….”
“Don’cha be thinkin’ like that. Ya do whatever ya have to do. Hell, grovel on yur knees through pig shit, if ya have to. Is she worth the heartache ya may have to live with fer a spell till she comes around?”
Dak closed his eyes and saw Kierin’s face; heard her soft voice; and thrilled to her touch. “Yes.” He answered softly. “She’s worth whatever I have to do.”
“Then there ya go. Wernt so hard to figure out now wuz it?”
“Wait here a minute.” Dak ran to his room and returned with the list of names from the slave auction. “When I send word to JarDan, he’ll send a crew here but it will take several months. I’m not going to wait. When they arrive, will you give them this list so they can start locating any crew member who’s still alive?”
“Well a’course I will. ‘N I got somethin’ else fer ya ta take with ya.” Jamison rummaged around behind the bar and returned with a worn cardboard box containing two communication devices.
“These here comm units got a range of about ten miles. I know ya ain’ jus’ runnin’ from that gal ‘o yurs. Ya talk in yur sleep when ya got
a belly full of bug juice ‘n I don’ wanna know more about that. Afor ya go, leave me directions ta some place close enough yur friends can reach ya on this thing. Ya can decide where ta meet ‘em when they call.”
Dak took the unit and drew a map on the back of one page of names. He wouldn’t lead anyone to Kierin’s fortress unless he knew who was looking for him.
“Thank you, Jamison. You’re a good man and I’m proud to call you friend. Gussie is one lucky woman.”
Jamison chuckled. “That she is, boy. That she is.”
* * * *
Sunrise found Dak loading his gear onto a new horse with the items he bought for Kierin and the baby loaded onto three pack animals. As soon as the Communication Center opened, he’d be on his way home. Home. For his entire life, Anderas was home. Falcon Tor was home. JarDan and his family were home. They were still important to him but it just wasn’t the same. He couldn’t remember ever being so ecstatically happy in his life.
What the hell am I going to do if she won’t believe me?
Dak paced in front of the Comm Center willing the clock above the door to move faster. Back and forth he walked while his doubts battled with his excitement. When he saw the clerk approaching he drew in a deep, cleansing breath. Everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. Everything would be fine.
Twenty minutes later his message to JarDan was zipping toward Anderas and he was mounting his horse.
I’m on my way, baby. Ten days, maybe twelve and I’ll be home.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hunger and a full bladder finally drove Kierin out of the vault room. Her shields would keep her sane if she could control this relentless need to touch Dak. She knew what a remarkable experience it was to be in his bed. She absolutely would not--could not--experience his joining with another woman. Self-preservation was a strong motivator.
After taking care of her body’s immediate needs, she sat near the fire while her soup simmered. Dreams and reality rarely coexisted in the real world. All the wishing in the universe wouldn’t make Dak care enough to stay with her. She knew he would leave from the beginning. Her heart obviously didn’t listen to her head. Even before she put the stone around his neck, she saw in Dak something good and strong and decent.
Her mother didn’t live long enough to explain the full effects of her birthstone. The increased passion she accepted from her knowledge of crystals and what properties each contained. The binding--that wasn’t expected, but Kierin couldn’t regret her choices. She might not have Dak and the love that may have grown between them in time, but she had his child--and a small measure of hope for the future. As long as she kept Dak blocked, he couldn’t cause her further pain. Maybe not the best life but it was the only one she had to deal with--the one she fully intended to embrace.
Suddenly ravenous, Kierin devoured every drop of the vegetable soup and a healthy chunk of the bread. It was the first full meal she’d manage to keep down in weeks and it tasted like the finest fare in the land.
It was a good day to sit near the fire and study the special orders she needed to fill before leaving for the villages. Gathering her order sheets, a current inventory of what she had on hand and a fresh cup of clover tea, Kierin settled into the over-stuffed, comfortable chair beside the fireplace. A grateful farmer gave her the chair as payment for preventing his wife’s miscarriage. It wasn’t new but he paid with what he had. If his gratitude was an indication of his presentation of this chair, it was a well-loved part of his home. The bright pattern of summer flowers had long since faded to muted shadows with mere hints of color. A small smile played around her lips when she wondered what would happen if she told him his wife was carrying twin sons. Maybe she’d get a soft blanket to cover the threadbare spots or a footstool. Oh, a footstool would be perfect.
Shaking off her foolishness, Kierin pulled the first order sheet. Time to get her priorities in order. The first priorities in any life--a roof overhead, clothing, and food for the body. She had a secure home, clothes to keep her warm through the winter, and profits from the market sales would cover food. She also had to plan for the baby. While she didn’t relish giving birth alone, she had no doubt she could handle whatever happened.
An hour later Kierin stretched, arching her back to ease the tight muscles. “This is what you get for not sitting at the table like you had normal intelligence.” The list she held indicated she’d have a good trip. Her workroom already held the majority of what she needed to cover her orders since they were for simple remedies. Something for monthly pain and to ease labor for the women; congestion, coughs and sore throats from the cold; sore muscles and minor cuts and scrapes. These were farmers and miners. They took care of the basic tribulations life dealt them and asked nothing from life they weren’t willing to give themselves.
She had a few orders for sexual enhancements and love potions. These she didn’t keep on-hand. Kierin giggled at her solution to those requests. The most common answer to both ailments was self-confidence. For the man who doubted his stamina, she gave small orange and black crystals in a braided leather band for his wrist and as long as he believed the crystal worked--it usually did. For women looking for love it was a calming tea with a hint of spice. With her anxiety level lowered, she no longer worried about finding a husband and allowed her natural feminine essence to reveal itself. Kierin’s father insisted there was nothing sexier than a confident woman.
Sadly, barren women were the hardest to deal with. Their loss of fertility ate at their souls. Her very nature demanded she help any living creature in need but her herbs and crystals didn’t always repair the root of the problem. Sometimes there was nothing that could be done.
The one special order that gave her pause was to prevent conception. It wasn’t the first time someone asked for birth control but he was the first man who requested it. His new wife was a young widow who inherited her late husband’s copper mine. The last time Kierin attended market day in that village, the bride was excited about the prospect of her new life and asked if Kierin had something to aid in fertility since she never conceived with her first husband. A belt braided with red and black crystals fulfilled her request. Since the two were together when the belt was purchased, Kierin was surprised when the new husband placed his order at the last village on her route instead of his home market. Her internal warning system was screaming that something was wrong but she didn’t know what to do about it. She had a little time to come up with a solution since his village was the second on her schedule.
The next market day in the village nearest to her fortress was in two weeks and the other villages in consecutive weeks. By the end of the month she would be stocked and ready for the snow. She wouldn’t have to worry about Draagon or his Phantom Riders until after the baby was born.
* * * *
Tomorrow. He’d be home tomorrow.
Dak stared into the dancing flames of his fire pit, sipping the last of his tea. A year ago he couldn’t imagine willingly consuming anything as tame as tea. Other than Jamison’s rot-gut liquor, he’d not had anything but one form of tea or another since leaving the Destiny. Who knew there were so many flavors of one beverage?
Bone deep fatigue forced him to stop for the night. Only the concern for the pack animals kept him from pushing toward Kierin. They were heavily loaded and this pace was showing on them. Of the four horses, only the one he rode showed any sign of spirit. The other three followed because he kept them tethered together and tied to his saddle. All he could do was promise them a warm barn and all the food and water they could handle. If they understood his whispered assurances they gave no indication.
He managed to cut this trip down to eight days by traveling well into the night, every night, and rising before the sun broke the horizon. Sheer force of will held him upright even now. The wind that never ceased its relentless drive across the desert carried a distinct chill of winter. Grateful for the foresight of bringing fire-gel, Dak opened another canister and settled into his sleepi
ng bag. The wind-whipped fire didn’t warm as much as soothe. The shifting reds and oranges and yellows held him in thrall as surely as any well-trained conjurer.
Are you there, Little Witch? I don’t feel you in my head anymore and I miss that more than I ever thought possible. Please, baby, talk to me. I never meant to hurt you. This silence is killing me, Kierin. Please, baby.
Dak waited, as he’d waited every night, but no answering touch eased his loneliness. Every night, just before he closed his eyes, he sent the same pleading message and every night his heart stuttered at what he’d carelessly tossed aside. Pulling his blanket around his ears, he closed his eyes and slipped into the welcoming arms of his dreams.
The bright, early morning sun finally penetrated Dak’s slumber. Scrambling from the bag, he cursed his fatigue. His normal night consisted of a few hours of restless sleep and more hours of staring at the stars and counting all the ways he vowed to prove to Kierin how much he needed her. He wanted to be on the road at first light but that was hours ago. It took another hour to load the supplies and break camp. If he road hard, he would be home by mid-afternoon. One look at his exhausted animals and he knew he’d be lucky to be there before dark. He couldn’t kill the horses because he was an idiot.
“It’s okay, ladies.” He whispered softly as he stroked each soft neck in turn. “You’ve done better than I deserve. Today, we take it slow and easy. Tonight we’ll all have a warm bed.” I hope.
As the miles slowly passed beneath him, Dak constantly scanned the desert around him. Something didn’t feel right. There’s not a speck of any living thing as far as he can see, but that itchy feeling along his spine told him something or someone was watching him--tracking him. Whenever he stopped to rest the horses, he searched the area with a spyglass but couldn’t see so much as an anthill to break the flatness. His head told him it was impossible--his gut told him to watch his back.
The setting sun was a memory when Dak pulled his horse to a stop outside Kierin’s fortress. He gripped the crystal key in his hand. How many times over the past weeks did he threaten to toss the piece of rock into the nearest hole? He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t get rid of this one connection to this place--to Kierin.
Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector Page 18