by Steven Drake
The bronze-skinned southerner turned away, seeming embarrassed, and perhaps even disappointed. “I’m sorry, I just thought that might be why she looked at you. Of course you couldn’t have known.”
“I took no offense,” Darien said, softening his tone. Relief that the woman had let the matter drop flooded over him in waves. He’d already let this woman know far more about himself than was wise. Jerris was one thing, a half-elf like himself, courageous, and worthy of trust. This woman was something else entirely, a human who had already tried to kill him once, who might do so again, especially if she knew that he felt pity for her. Pity was a terrible weakness in combat, and could easily be the difference between life and death.
If Darien the Executioner knew anything, it was how powerful the drive for vengeance could be. He remembered the moment when the sword had tempted him, the incredible desire to see Avirosa’s body broken and bloodied, to hear the screams of pain and anguish, to make the wraith suffer as he, himself, had suffered so long ago. The woman had felt that too. She had admitted as much just a few minutes ago. If she managed to kill him, she might even take the sword for herself. That must not happen, he swore to himself. That doom is mine and mine alone. I will not lay it upon anyone else, upon my mother’s life and death I swear it.
“It’s late, and I think I will try again to get some sleep” he finally spoke again. “You should probably do the same. You should not stay here, I think. Go back to the Order of the Golden Shield. Finish your training with them, become a knight, fulfill your potential, live your life, forget about this place, leave the path of vengeance behind you. There’s nothing for you at the end of it.”
“I don’t know, I want to learn more about this prophecy, and find out if I’m really a part of it. This really is a beautiful place, and I’d like to stay here a while and see what there is to learn,” Rana said with a smile. “Anyway, you said you would let me go when we were out of danger, and the way I see it, that time has come, so you can’t really tell me what to do.” She smiled almost playfully, but the Executioner was not in any mood for games.
“Fair enough,” he replied in a low grumble. “You are no longer my prisoner, so do what you want.”
The woman’s expression changed, returning to the now familiar look of disapproval with which she usually regarded him. Darien started back toward the Ivory Hall, truly ready for sleep. Thankfully, the woman did not follow him. He was now in no mood for company. For now, the journey was over, and the remaining questions could be laid aside. He had much to learn here, and much to do, but that could wait for another day. He passed through the darkness under the trees like a shadow in the night, taking comfort in that darkness. When he returned to the Ivory Hall and his room, he laid down upon the still irritatingly soft bed, but this time, mental exhaustion overcame discomfort, and he slept, peacefully, untroubled by nightmares, a well-earned and much needed rest.
A Note from the Author:
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this novel, please leave a review. Reviews are critical to the success of ebooks, and I appreciate the support. This is meant to be the first book of a series that continues for several novels. I intend to complete the others in the next few years. If you didn’t enjoy it, I welcome constructive criticism so that I can become a better writer. See my other writings at www.aspie_steve.wordpress.com