A Warrior's Redemption (The Warrior Kind)

by Stanton III, Guy

  “It was a trap?”

  “Yes it was. Most disturbingly was who was involved in the deception. The Zoarinians have a secretive sect in their higher ranks of hierarchy that oversee the most intimate affairs of the empire, including the actions and private lives of the governors themselves. They are very cunning and I have been told quite evil.”

  Interrupting him I said, “I think I know of who you’re talking about. Are there many of them?”

  “Nobody knows, but whenever they are involved its serious business. I have kept a low profile throughout most of my spying career, ever careful to never reveal too much at any one time as to my involvement in the spying community, but as of late I’ve had to take some risks, which men of their cunning could possibly piece together given enough time.”

  “It would then seem to me a good idea for you to get out before they do find you out!” I said not understanding his reticence against leaving.

  Sebastian looked up at me, “Better that I stay and deflect the attention from you. I don’t mind sacrificing myself for my country or I would never have come here in the first place and besides I don’t have long as it is anyway.”

  “You’re dying? That’s your real reason for staying isn’t it.”

  “Yes I suppose, but I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.”

  I nodded and asked, “You mentioned that you still have some information to gather yet before I can leave?”

  “Yes, I’m having a get together tomorrow night. The exchange will be made then and you will depart shortly thereafter with it, while I will remain here. Now I’ve kept you long enough from your much needed rest. Rugar show my nephew to his quarters would you.”

  The man from the carriage separated away from the wall behind me at his master’s request. It didn’t surprise me that he had slipped unnoticed into the room sometime throughout the course of our conversation. The man was skilled. I followed Rugar down the hallway to a room he indicated.

  “Rugar, my horse has he been..?”

  Rugar held up his hand forestalling my question, “I saw to it myself master Roric. He is a very fine animal, a fit mount to carry any warrior into battle, but I pray he never knows another master other than you to grace his back.”

  I looked at him appreciating his comment. What would he do when the master he had served so faithfully through the years was no longer around to serve? That would be a sad day.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Dark Ones

  Krista lay in her bed awake wondering over the events of the evening. The poor little girl had only managed a couple mouthfuls of fresh doughnut and a cup of milk before she had slumped over in her chair fast asleep. She lay beside her now in the bed sleeping peacefully.

  Krista’s thoughts kept drifting back to the girl’s protector and the odd unspoken sense of connection she felt with him. What was it about him that was somehow familiar? A blush rose to her cheeks as she acknowledged that he hadn’t been the only one looking. Usually she didn’t pay attention to men any longer then it took for her to judge how much of a threat to her they were and what their weaknesses’ were. After she knew those things it was much easier to handle them and keep them at arm’s length, but with him it had been different.

  With him her thoughts had been of what it would be like to be within arm’s length. He was strong and yet he handled Zarsha with tenderness, as the evening Zacka bird does her young. Would he be like that with a woman or would he turn into the groping monster so many men seemed to be, when they thought no one was looking. He liked the way she looked, she was sure of that, but then she hadn’t met any men who hadn’t liked the way she looked either. But it was different with him somehow. She wanted him to see her as beautiful.

  What was wrong with her? She needed to get her head on straight. She was a slave even though Sebastian treated her more like a granddaughter. To be seen as beautiful in her world was only to have more of oneself taken advantage of. Sebastian had been good to her and she was lucky to have it as good as she did now. Everything could have been a lot worse without him.

  She closed her eyes and finally drifted off to sleep. The big serious eyed warrior from the north would just have to stay in her dreams and be nothing more, because she already had it as good as a slave could hope to and she would be content with that.

  I sipped punch from the cup in my hand as I watched the couples go by on the dance floor. Well that wasn’t exactly the whole truth. I watched her and no one else.

  They called her Sebastian’s Passion Flower. It was her owner Sebastian that she now glided in the moves of the dance with. Sebastian’s idea of a gathering and mine were two different things.

  This extravaganza was a fully fledged ball. Several women had come up to me seeking my hand in the next dance. I had let them down as gracefully as I could. The simple matter of fact truth was, I couldn’t dance and in this setting it was embarrassing to have to admit to. In the arena I had danced, but that had been a dance of death with the goal of staying two steps ahead of it and hopefully finding another step after those two were gone. Here in this glittering world of manners and decorum I was completely lost.

  There was no end of beautiful women present, but the only one I had eyes for was the girl in Sebastian’s arms. The rest of the women present at the ball could have been turned to pretty flowers adorning the wall paper for all I cared, but her, she was amazing!

  She had changed so much and yet she was the same. In a way I thought to myself it was easier to relate to her then any of the finely dressed higher born people around me. What was so amazing about her? What consumed me with a passion to know everything about her and to spend every moment of my time with her? She was beautiful, but so were the other women, only they didn’t make me want to lose control like looking at her did.

  It was alarming and I made myself look away and focus on the seriousness of the event instead of the growing infatuation I had for Sebastian’s slave girl. The dance was over. The noise of the crowd grew with the chatter of conversations and I turned back to the refreshment table to get some more punch.

  I had the dipper half raised to refill my glass when another glass came into my field of view. I looked at the hand holding the glass and followed it up to its owner’s eyes. She was even more breathtaking up close. She had an impish look on her face as she stared across the punch bowl at me.

  “Master Roric.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re spilling the punch on your shirt.” She said, as a smile crept out at the corners of her mouth.

  Somewhat dazed feeling I looked down at the punch bowl and my shirt. Sure enough I had spilled some of the bright red punch on the white shirt that I wore. I mopped it up with some nearby hand towels, which only spread the red stain further across the shirt. My face was tinged red with embarrassment and I avoided meeting her eyes as I filled her glass with punch.

  “Thank you.” She said softly a tinge of humor still in her tone as she turned to leave.

  I asked her quickly before she went back into the chattering throng that I felt like a foreigner among, “What’s your name?”

  She half turned and looked back at me speculatively and then answered, “Krista Denas.”

  She walked away from me then. The exotic tattoo on the back of her left shoulder pulled my eyes up and away from the swaying of her hips, as she glided away from me. I went still inside at the sight of it.

  My back suddenly itched all along the lengths of the burn marks there of my own brand of slavery. I knew what the exquisitely tattooed flower so artfully covered up. The symbol of our shared shame, as being viewed as less by others, lay beneath the artful application of ink.

  Suddenly, as I watched her leave, I saw her whole back tense up into a tight knot of tension and she stopped abruptly. She was staring at the far end of the room as if the devil himself had just walked in. Following her gaze I saw that an aging portly man with silver tipped hair had entered the ro
om with a much younger blond haired companion on his arm. He had the appearance of haughty influence about him and the dead eyes of a cold hearted back stabber.

  Krista started walking again. She set her cup of punch down on a table and with a speed of hand I was impressed with, she slipped a table knife from off the table beside her, unnoticed by the table’s occupants. She continued walking slowly and purposefully towards the man, with the knife’s blade held up the back of her wrist out of view.

  The huntress’s approach hadn’t gone unnoticed by everyone. My alarmed eyes met Sebastian’s from across the room and we shared an unspoken communication. I quickly caught up with Krista. My left hand closed over her right hand forcefully immobilizing the knife it held in place.

  She gave a surprised jump as my hand closed over hers and glanced quickly at me. She made as if to struggle, but Sebastian had arrived at her other side and she stopped the attempt to struggle completely. She didn’t resist as we moved her off from the main room the ball was taking place towards the inner chambers of the mansion.

  Sebastian opened a door and we all entered. This must be her room. It was tastefully decorated with bright silks and tapestries and feminine nicknacks. The wooden floors had colorful area rugs spread across them.

  The room served as yet another insight into the life of this enchanting woman. Sebastian led Krista to a sofa and had her sit down and then he sat down beside her.

  Taking one of her hands in his he asked, with evident concern in his tone of voice, “What is the meaning of this behavior Krista? Who is that man to you and why were you going to kill him?”

  Krista’s head was hanging down and her countenance was downcast as she responded softly, “I’m sorry Sebastian! I didn’t mean to cause a scene and lose control like that. It won’t happen again Sebastian I promise!”

  “I know it won’t, but you still haven’t answered my question. Who is that man to you?”

  There was a moment of silence and I saw big tears coursing down her cheeks as she answered, “His name is Count Sarn Nivaron. He is an important magistrate under the governor of Capeacal. When I was very young he saw my mother in the market place and desired her for his own. He tried to buy her from my father, but my father refused so he had my father killed and brought me and my mother to live on his estate as slaves. We were there for a couple of years. My mother was one of his many whores. When he got tired of her he sold us at the slave market.”

  “I see my dear.” Sebastian said patting her hand gently.

  “I’ll take care of the problem, but this changes our relationship I’m afraid.”

  Krista looked up at him and said, “I’m sorry!”

  Sebastian leaned forward and kissed her on the brow as a father would. “It was going to have to change anyway soon enough.”

  Sebastian stood up stiffly. “I need to get back to the ball.”

  Sebastian turned to look at me for a long moment and I wondered what he was thinking. I knew what I was thinking. I’d like to take the confiscated knife in my hand and go back to the ball and shove it in between the ribs of the Count, where a heart should have been located and then snap it off at the hilt.

  “Roric, I’ve noticed that you’ve shown a marked interest in my companion slave. I assure you this is not a common request on my part, but I need her occupied for the duration of the night and as I am needed elsewhere I give her to you to enjoy however you may wish to.”

  Krista gasped loudly and cried out, “Sebastian!” in an outraged voice. I was just as shocked and stared mutely at Sebastian, as he walked out the door past me and closed it.

  Standing dumbfounded looking at the closed door I was rudely interrupted by a hard knock to the back of my head. “What.…?”

  Half turning I reached back to feel the back of my head as I saw an apple rolling away along the floor. Looking up towards Krista I had only enough time to duck as a glass container holding some jelly like substance smashed against the door post where I had been only moments before. The room was wreathed chokingly in the perfumed fragrance of the substance now oozing down the doorpost.

  Sebastian heard the clatter of glass breaking against the door and a brief smile touched his lips. Melancholy soon returned however when he stepped back into the bright world of the ballroom, which was still in full swing. He quickly located his contact messenger and closed in on her. Once more back into the fray perhaps for the last time.

  The familiar thrill of danger once more coursed through his old tired bones and Sebastian welcomed it. This might be his last battle, but it would be his greatest achievement yet, for God and country.

  I managed to keep ducking most of the objects being thrown at me, as I tried to work my way through the litter of fallen projectiles to Krista. A knife whizzed past my nose by mere inches. That was it! I lunged for her.

  A potted plant smashed off my shoulder in route which, in my angered rush I didn’t even consider the pain of its impact. I ducked around a roundhouse punch aimed at my head and stepped behind her wrapping an arm around to restrain her arms. She struggled violently in my hold and sank her teeth into my forearm. I jerked my arm away and in the process spun her around. I quickly grabbed and yanked both her arms behind her back and held them in one hand tightly secure.

  She seemed even more incensed at her new found captivity and lunged for my throat with her bared pearly white teeth. My right hand shot out and buried itself in the fiery tangle of the curls of her hair. I stopped her heads advance towards my throat as my grip on her hair tightened. She gave a frustrated grunt, when her head was brought up short from its intended target.

  I found myself mesmerized by the ferocity of her defiance, which is why I didn’t see the knee headed for my groin. Thankfully her knee was slightly off target, but it was still painful none the less. I grunted painfully and almost lost control of her hands, which would have probably been fatal for me. I gritted my teeth and pulled her close with my left arm until her stomach was pressed tight to me and she had no room to squirm, much less, knee me in the groin again.

  I held her head back with my right hand in her hair. The heel of her foot came smashing down on my foot and I tightened my grip on her hair and arms, which caused her to gasp painfully and stop most of her struggling.

  “That is enough! I don’t want to hurt you, but so help me, if you bite or hit me again I will put you over my knee and spank the living daylights out of you!

  The threat worked because she abruptly stopped struggling. I hadn’t really been going to do that, but she didn’t need to know that. We were both breathing hard from the struggle and I grappled with what to do. Did I release her? I might not have a face left or have the ability to father children if I did!

  Curls of her hair had broken free from their elaborate containment on top of her head and draped over the sides of her face getting in her eyes. One of the stray curls lay down alongside her nose, and she tossed her head as much as she could in order to move it away. She was so breathtakingly beautiful!

  I released my tight grip of her hair and combed the offending strays over to the side of her face. I lost myself in the stormy depths of her sea blue eyes. The radiating lines of her facial scars stood out in sharp white relief against the flushed red of her face, as she stared back at me.

  Her lips were full from the passion and struggle of the moment and my head was descending towards them without any conscious thought of my own. Her expressive eyes flashed concern but she didn’t move away.

  I had always wondered why people kissed and now I knew why. I wanted to do it again and again. The feel of her soft lips against mine was intoxicatingly amazing. The feel of her soft body pressed up against mine was even more intoxicating. I could do this for forever.

  That thought died though when I opened my eyes. Tears were leaking out the sides of her eyes and down her cheeks. I took my face away from hers and she quickly looked down at my chest. She had the look of one who had suffered a bitter defeat
and was now helpless against what came next, which wasn’t what I wanted at all to see from her!

  I remembered the feeling I saw expressed in her body language well enough. The feeling of having no control over one’s own fate was the lot of a slave. Bile rose in my throat, as I writhed inwardly in self disgust.

  One of the reasons I had fought so hard in the arena was so that I might never have the look that she now had. This beautiful woman must think I was no better than the men, who frequented the whore houses that I had by my own actions saved her from as a girl.

  I let go of her wrists and stepped back abruptly. She looked up at me surprised and wary of my next move all at the same time. I let my hands fall to my sides and I moved further back.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to lose control like that! I’m sorry if I hurt you!”

  Shocked she stared at me while rubbing her wrists. I gestured towards a sofa, “Will you have a seat please?”

  Krista looked at the sofa and then at me not sure what to think of the change in my demeanor towards her. She moved over to the sofa never turning her back on me and sat in a corner of it, drawing her knees up under her protectively. I pulled a chair out across from her and sat down. Sweat was beaded all over my face and I searched for something to say in the awkward silence of the room, as she watched me closely.

  “Do you need anything? Are you hungry?”

  Somewhat hoarsely she said softly, “I am a little hungry. I don’t eat much during the day leading up to these events. The clothes are tight enough without having a full belly too.”

  My eyes drifted down and I saw what she meant. Huskily I asked, my eyes still clinging to the well defined womanly curves, “Why does Sebastian have you dress so provocatively? He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to show off something he values to others? I know he values you very highly.”

  She paused hesitantly and then looked up at me somewhat shyly, “Sebastian and I…..we don’t…..we aren’t intimate together. I’m for show, to make others think of Sebastian as a vigorous man for lack of a better way of putting it.”