Warlord's Flame (Krystile Warriors Book 2)

by Owner

  “There will be suspicion if you heal me,” he said.

  Bess stood, frozen. “No one knows we can do this. Please let me help you. You’re in pain.”

  His expression softened. “I am fine, little mouse. I would know if you have been harmed.”

  Bess nodded. “I am fine. After the first day, the king has ignored me. I am locked in my room. They did not mistreat me. Oh, your back...”

  She stepped in front of him and put her hand on his chest, partly because she wanted to feel for internal injuries and partly because she needed to touch him. As usual, she read few of his emotions, but she reassured herself he was healthy. She stroked the smooth skin of his bare chest and admired his blue eyes. Bess felt heat creep into her face.

  Before he could protest, she moved behind him and put her hands on his back. She fought against passing out when his wounds became hers. Her stomach turned and her vision darkened. She could hear nothing except the ringing in her ears as her sight blackened to nothingness, but she pressed through for him. The pain of the whip made her fight to hold back her screams. As her flesh ripped open, her back felt as though hot lava was being poured on it. She whimpered and doubled over in pain, managing to keep her hands on him as she slowly sank to her knees. After she healed, Bess maintained contact with her hands and when she could, she shared her essence with him. He needed the strength. Bess, now covered in blood, rose to her feet. She hoped her dark clothes hid it from him.

  Var stared at her eyes. She knew they were violet now.

  He was breathing hard. The warlord had been in so much pain, Bess was glad to ease it for him. He shook his head. “I did not want you to feel this.”

  She touched the beam he held and pricked her finger. Bess pressed it to his lips and pushed slightly. He opened his parched lips and licked the blood from her finger before he sucked the tip into his mouth. His regret at having her share his pain hit her like a punch in the gut. There was something else. Shame. He felt deep shame that he did not keep her safe from the king. Var failed someone once before and that failure left him with a feeling of unworthiness.

  Bess shuddered when she felt his tongue against the cut on her finger.

  His ice blue eyes raked her soul. “You did something else.”

  “You needed more strength.” Awkwardness overcame her. She looked down. Not there! She jerked her head up and searched for something to say. “The beam is heavy.”

  Bess knew she could stay there forever, near him, touching him. His cheekbones looked sharp as blades. The scar from the corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth enhanced his fierce beauty.

  She could not know what he thought except through touch. His kept his face void of expression, but she was not his enemy.

  “Be patient, little mouse,” he said. “You must leave now. They come.”

  Bess pressed herself against his chest. “I need you,” she said.

  Behind her, Katy breathed, “Hurry! Out the back. They’re coming.”

  His eyes softened. “Go, Bess.”

  He spoke her name. Var said her name. His words sounded as if they ran through chocolate-covered gravel straight into her heart where they warmed her insides and then strengthened to an inferno within her.

  She hugged him, listened to his heart beat and turned her face into his chest to place a gentle kiss there. Bess tore herself away from him and hurried to the door, but glanced back at him before she slipped out. She could hear someone coming in the door at the front.

  Katy pulled, but Bess stood rooted to the ground. Surely her heart would tear open if she left Var here.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she said.

  Katy jerked her hand and Bess staggered to keep her balance. Just as the men came down to Var’s door, Katy rushed her out the back door into open air. They crossed a small alley and went inside another structure. Bess took only one breath of clean night air before ducking back inside the dank labyrinth. Katy directed her to a different hidden passageway to return to the hall that led to her room.

  “Hurry, we cannot be found here!”

  Bess let Katy lead her in the darkness.

  Guard stepped out of the shadows and blocked their path, solid as stone. The man grabbed Katy’s arm and pulled her against him. Bess’s heart beat so hard she could barely hear the words he spoke.

  “So, what are you doing that you sneak around the dark halls,” the man said. His expression was a leering smile that brought Bess up short. “No answer? Well, I will give you each a chance to persuade me to ignore this infraction. The dungeon is not a place where women do well, but you came from there didn’t you? You must be looking for adventure. I can offer you all the adventure you can handle.” He grasped the front of his pants.

  Bess felt faint. This was too much.

  Katy stepped close to the guard, touched his hand and smiled up at him. “You found two kitchen wenches taking a short cut. We had a good time, a very good time, but you don’t remember our names or faces. Carry on with your guard duty.”

  She pulled Bess around him and they continued to hurry down the narrow hall. When Bess glanced back, the guard stood rooted to the spot where they left him with a silly smile on his face.

  When they returned to the safety of Bess’s room, Katy closed the hidden door behind them. When she looked at Bess in the light, her mouth opened. “You healed him!”

  “The guard,” Bess began.

  “Does not remember seeing us.” Katy took a breath. “You healed the warlord!”

  The dark garment did not hide the blood that had flowed from her skin when Var’s wounds became her own. She had blood on her hands and face. “Yes. I healed him.”

  Katy frowned.

  “Go now,” Bess whispered. “Thank you for taking me to see him.”

  “Do you think it wise to heal him?”

  Bess sighed. “He said Claire and Destiny and Anna are with them. He knows we can heal.”

  Realization dawned on Katy. “You’ve healed him before.”

  Bess nodded.

  Katy’s eyes opened wide. “You shared your essence with him?!”

  “Yes,” Bess muttered. “I did.”

  “Oh, Bess. That may have been a mistake.”

  “I had to help him.”

  “I hope he does not disappoint you.” Katy watched the door and finally sighed and walked to it. “You did what you thought best, though I fear you gave too much away.”

  “I would do much more to help him,” Bess knew Katy felt her passion. “I am determined, sister. There is not much I would not do for him.”

  Bess knew Katy did not like it, but it was done.

  “I must go now. Stay in here and keep this door locked.” Katy stopped and spoke without turning around. “I only hope I find someone who I believe in as much as you do this warlord.” A moment later, she stepped quietly into the hallway.

  When she heard the key in the lock, Bess let out a breath.

  Finally alone with only her thoughts, she undressed and washed the blood away. It may have been a foolish mistake, but Bess knew she would do the same thing again. And she knew that if Katy were given the chance, she would make the same decisions. That is, if Katy ever learned to trust. Bess shared her feelings. Being made to feel unloved and unworthy all her life, even while experiencing the emotions of others, made Bess long for something that seemed always just out of her reach. And she knew Katy felt the same yearning.

  Sometime during the night, despite her tossing and turning, she slept and dreamed of Var. She saw through his eyes, his mother’s body, tossed carelessly on the ground, the life wrung from her. Bess felt Var’s shame that he had not been able to save her. His sorrow was so great, she cried. He had only been a boy. A boy in chains, a slave.

  Chapter 33

  Alone in the dungeon, Var thought about Bess. She was right. He did feel stronger. What did ‘sharing her essence’ mean? Did it weaken her?

  She said it was not his fault. Bess knew. She had seen his deepest sha
me and she did not think his mother’s death was his fault. How had the girl passed all that to him in such a short time? She had sent him an impression. That female was his.

  When he first saw her, standing there in the dimness of the dungeon, she had taken his breath away. The black clothing she wore accentuated her breasts and hips. Her loveliness broke him. Her scent drove him wild, but today, everything about her felt stronger, sweeter, more intoxicating.

  Bess had taken a great risk when she healed him. He felt his muscles becoming stronger, his skin mending itself. The aches and pains of the beatings became a distant memory. The incredible power trapped inside that small female shook him.

  Mack better hurry, he was tired of waiting. Var flexed his muscles. He could break the chains that shackled him to the beam, but he should wait on Mack. Var wanted to lay waste to this place and take her.

  ***

  Mack moved quietly in the darkness before dawn. He entered the dungeon and made his way to Var’s cell. A woman stood in front of the door. Mack touched her hand. She was beautiful, tall and lithe. When she turned light green eyes on him, the ground shook under his feet. Her red hair cascaded loose and flowing. Another MX at the castle?

  “I would know why you are here.”

  She smiled at him. A beautiful smile, filled with sweet seduction, but she did not answer.

  “You are an MX. I would know how you came to be here.” He took a deep breath and inhaled her scent. She smelled like morning.

  She shook her head slowly. “You do not see me, you see a kitchen maid who brings a meager meal to a prisoner.”

  “I know what I see,” Mack said.

  The female tilted her head. “You do not see me, warrior.”

  The woman broke contact and made no sound as she moved away. Mack turned and saw a small kitchen maid with light brown hair. But the green eyes, the green eyes stayed with him and he had the most irrational fear he would see them in his sleep.

  “You took your sweet time.” Var said as Mack entered the cell.

  Chapter 34

  Katy had worked with Bess teaching her to control the power of her special gift. She sighed. “I am going to escape tonight and you should come with me.”

  Bess shook her head.

  “If you will not come with me, you must escape with the warlord tonight. Myra will kill you if you do not and King Messerat is determined to kill the warlord. I heard him say that he will defy their leader, someone named Koda. This Koda wants all the MX. He said he will either buy them or take them by force. I worry that he wants to start his own Facility with us. Please, come away with me tonight.”

  “No,” Bess said. “I must stay to help the warlord.”

  “I feared you would say that. I don’t understand, but I respect your decision. Please come with me, with us.”

  Katy shook her head. “I do not trust your warlord. If I can follow without being noticed, I will follow you. Otherwise, I have a plan to get away.”

  Bess let Katy’s sadness fill her for a moment.

  Katy shoved a bag into her hands. “This is the only weapon I could find. I heard they are skilled and use these to fight.” She started toward the door, turned and stopped. Katy gave Bess a quick hug. “Good luck to you and please be careful.” Katy’s steps faded away as she left.

  Bess never felt more alone. Katy’s sorrow became a dark spot on her heart. She dressed in black pants and shirt. The loose sleeves of the top hung past her elbows and the wide legs of the pants made it look as if she wore a long skirt. She laced the black corset in the front. The low cut of the blouse revealed the barest amount of her breast binding. Bess put on the flat shoes Katy had given her.

  Her heart jumped when she heard the key in the lock. Bess quickly hid the bag in the folds of the wide-leg pants.

  Four guards stood in the hall. “Come with us,” the taller guard said.

  Did they really think they needed four men to control her? Bess felt their fear of her. The images in their minds frightened them. She helped that along just a bit with stronger feelings of fear. It worked. The terror of what she might do to them meant they forgot to search her.

  The guards escorted her to the courtyard. They led her out into the opening in front of the stands.

  She forced herself to show no emotion at the sight of Var. He stood in the center of the courtyard wearing only a loincloth. His body still showed the rust colored dried blood from earlier beatings. The guards had bound his hands behind him and attached the binding to a short metal post that stood out of the ground about waist high.

  The king’s guards, many of them mounted on horses and armed with whips and clubs in addition to their knives and swords, sat on their horses in a semi-circle in front of Var as the king and his court assembled on the upper level to watch. The clubs worried Bess. She read the guards. They anticipated a bloody show. Their violent and bloodthirsty emotions blasted her.

  Her escort stopped in front of the king, who sat on a raised platform in the stands.

  Bess tilted her head back to see him. A female sitting beside the king pointed to her. Even though Myra wore a veil, Bess recognized her.

  Bess read the king and he looked forward to Var’s blood covering her while they killed him.

  The king stood and held up his hands to quiet the crowd. “Empath, you have been disloyal to me,” he began. “An informant told me that you aided this warlord who came to spy on me. He shall die tonight. You will remain there so you miss nothing of his suffering. I will allow you to beg for mercy.”

  Bess managed to stop the emotions from flashing across her face. This king had no mercy and she refused to give him the pleasure of the spectacle he wanted. Bess felt stronger now. She had more control of her gifts. At least, she hoped she did. Even with little chance to practice, her work with Katy had been very helpful. Var had helped her to get rid of some of her guilt and Katy helped her with her control.

  The guards led her to Var and pushed her to the ground at Var’s feet.

  The king looked at his audience and shouted, “Begin!”

  Var ignored the king and focused on her. His eyes softened. “Help is coming. It is not wise to be too close to me.”

  Her throat closed with emotion.

  The men advanced on Var, some holding clubs the length of a man’s arm, with a misshapen bulge on the end. Bess knew that those clubs were meant to break his bones. She began to chant. Var would not survive this and his death would be bloody and agonizing unless she intervened.

  She pulled the bag from the folds of her pants and reached in. Her fingers touched the stiff handle of the whip. Bess pulled herself to Var and pressed against his leg, pulling the handle out, she reached up to place it in Var’s hand. “This is the only weapon I could get,” she said. Her voice shook as much as her hands.

  Bess stood beside him and touched the ropes that bound his hands in back. A small fire blazed up fast and hot. Before she could get the pieces of rope off his wrists, Var’s muscles tensed and he broke the remaining threads. The first attacker kicked his horse into a run and drew back his club to swing it as he galloped past. Var pushed her back to the ground and ducked so the club missed.

  Bess reached the whip with fire.

  The second guard began his charge at them.

  Var let the whip fly as soon as the man came close enough.

  A collective gasp rose from the crowd as the whip uncoiled and reached out to the second rider. The crowd gasped at the flaming whip. She felt Var’s surprise and knew he was proud of her.

  Several of the guards were already galloping toward them with their clubs raised in the air. Bess saw the shock on their faces when they realized they faced a fire whip and that the whip was wielded by an expert.

  This time, many of the guards rushed at them on horseback. Var threw the whip again. It snaked out like a living beast with a mind of its own and licked the first of the king’s bullies with flame.

  The man shrieked in pain and shock as he tumbled from his
horse and ran to a water trough at the edge of the courtyard. He howled and writhed as his skin burned. The fire engulfed him. Blinded now, his breath stolen by the flames that he sucked into his lungs when he tried to draw breath to scream out his agony, the man’s pain hurt her. Bess disconnected from the dying man.

  Var pushed Bess to the ground at his feet. The scene in the courtyard blazed with the fire whip when the king’s men, already rushing at them, arrived.

  She knew Var had skill with a whip, but had not realized how proficient he was. Against the dark of the night sky, the fire whip never stopped moving. Var lashed out at another man whose knife sailed harmlessly through the air. The man’s hand caught fire, then his clothes and hair. His unearthly howl sent a shiver up her spine. Bess did not want to look, yet she could not turn away.

  The men tried to close in, but Var held them back. When they felt the fire, the other guards scrambled back. Var was no longer the bound victim waiting to be the evening’s bloody sacrifice, but the aggressor. ‘The Destroyer has come’, Bess thought. The fiery whip flew relentlessly and without mercy. The beautiful dance of the whip was punctuated with a sharp crack whenever it broke the sound barrier. She jumped every time.

  Bess felt terror move through the guards. The scene they witnessed was horrifying. She realized some of the screaming came from the spectators who rushed to the exits. Panic filled her, but she tamped it down.

  Var stood in the center and turned this way and that to prevent the attackers from getting close. The warlord used the whip to disarm one guard who charged forward to kill them with his sword. He jerked several off their mounts and the others jumped from the running horses as they tried to put out the flames that engulfed them after the whip touched them. The fire took on a life of its own viciously attacking the king’s men.

  One of the guards circled behind them and charged with his club poised to deal Var a deadly blow. They planned to draw this out, but the fire changed their minds. Sometimes Bess hated knowing what people thought. She felt as if their cruelty tainted her soul. As she knelt on the ground beside Var, she held her hand up, palm out toward the vicious club. She felt the fire touch it. The man screamed. The club blazed and fell to the ground. Bess turned her attention back to the bulk of the attackers.