by Judith Post
"Those three didn't have an ounce of magic between them," Thurstan said.
Jarman hissed, showing his fangs. "Gilbert was a coward and a liar."
"He had no honor." Brom reached for a slice of cold beef from the platter Cook had placed on the table for them. "He sold the witches to you, took your money, and then turned on us when Jarman and Thurstan left with the women we'd rescued."
Thurstan smiled, remembering. He pulled a stool across from Brom and reached for the beef, too. "A night of bad choices on his part. Your dragon, Lothar, torched him before he could cause any harm."
"Lothar never leaves me out of his sight," Brom said. "But a fortress without a lord invites trouble. The few peasants who stayed behind, hoping to claim the castle as their own, risked death with each new person who rode through the fortress gates."
Christian's gaze went to the flames dancing in the kitchen fireplace. "Their greed got the better of them. Have you heard any news about this woman? Did she come with an army or alone? What makes her so powerful?"
Brom shook his head. "My man didn’t go any farther than the gardens and stables. Once he found the bodies, he knew better than to press forward."
Christian tried again. "Did he say how the men died? Were they stabbed? Bludgeoned? Shot with arrows?"
Brom grimaced. "Someone shredded their flesh. It fell like ribbons from their bones."
All four men went silent, considering this. They'd seen bodies charred by dragons and drained by rogue vampires, but shredding was new.
Brom went on. "He said a woman strode out of the castle and called for him to leave."
Hands clasped behind his back, Jarman jumped to his feet and began to pace. "Then she might not have been alone. She might have brought an entire army with her."
"There were no horses in the stables," Brom said.
"Vampires fly at night. We don't need horses to travel."
"The woman walked into the sunlight during the day," Brom argued.
Christian's gaze met Jarman's. "Do vampires shred flesh?"
Jarman flicked his wrists and talons sprang from his fingertips. "A vampire could tatter a mortal, but why waste so much blood?"
Christian meant to persist, but Cook came down the servant's staircase to enter the kitchen. He turned to greet her. "Brina?" he asked.
"Calm yourself, m'lord. Many women show the same signs when their bellies start to bulge. But between your mother's healing and my potions, she's much more comfortable."
Christian ran a hand through his hair. Chestnut-colored, Brina told him. He sighed. He knew Cook often left his kitchens to help women in need, while his mother went from hut to hut as a healer. He trusted their talents, and yet…. He couldn't decide which made him more nervous—facing an enemy in battle or worrying about his wife and unborn child.
Cook wrapped her plump arms around him in a brief, motherly hug. He'd terrorized her kitchen as a boy, and she'd loved every minute of it. And he loved her, in return. "Brina will be fine. It's you I'm worried about."
Brom laughed at him. "Relax, man. Brina has enough magic in her little finger to carry this baby and survive its birth."
True, Brina's magic could give and take energy from mortals. When he'd first stumbled upon her, lying in a gutter, drained by a rogue vampire, he'd thought she was dead—and then her cheeks grew pink and she groaned—her magic restoring her. Christian rolled his shoulders, trying to relax them. He returned to the reason they'd gathered around Cook's work table. "We have to take note that this woman warned Brom's man away and let him leave without harm."
"Don't read too much into that," Thurstan said. "It could be that she didn't want a neighboring lord riding to her castle to demand what happened to his serf."
Christian turned to Brom. "What are your thoughts on this? What should we do?"
Brom's dark eyes blazed. "I think we should go, together, to welcome her as a neighbor. And we should make certain she knows each of our magicks and that it's not wise to threaten us."
Thurstan nodded agreement. "Power can serve as a deterrent. She's killed people whom we spared. It's possible she doesn't respect anyone she can defeat."
Christian's gaze settled on Jarman.
"I'm in, but, as you know, I can only join you if you travel at night."
"Then we leave tomorrow at dusk," Brom said. "I'll ride my dragon, Thurstan can shift to his werewolf form, Jarman can show his fangs, and Christian can blaze with his fire magic. We'll make it clear that we won't attack her, and she'd be wise not to attack us."
Nodding agreement, they filled their tankards and drank in unison. Brom's idea struck Christian as a solid plan. Tomorrow night, they'd travel to Gilbert's fortress and meet its new owner.
* * *
Brina was already asleep when he went to their bedchamber. He stripped out of his clothes and gently slid under the blanket to join her, doing his best not to disturb her. The heavy shutters at their long, narrow window were flung open to allow spring air into their room. The fresh air drove away some of the castle's usual chill and mustiness. Sensing his presence, Brina inched closer until their bodies touched. A happy thrill pulsed through Christian. Soon enough, his wife would be a mother. His mother, Lady Enid, could hardly wait to hold her first grandchild. Christian drifted to sleep with a smile on his lips.
He woke at first light when Brina pushed herself out of bed. She disappeared behind a painted screen to use the chamber pot. Part of her condition, Cook had explained. When she went to the wash basin, she saw that he was awake.
"You met with Brom last night, didn't you?" she asked. "Is everything all right?"
Christian explained about Gilbert's castle.
"You think this woman is a threat?" Brina came to sit on the side of the bed. As usual, when she was close, she reached for him. "I'm coming with you," she said. "My magic can protect you if this woman is a sorceress of some kind."
He rolled away from her and pushed to his feet. Her eyes roamed his nakedness, and she smiled. His muscles hardened from hours of weapons training, he'd had many a woman admire his physique. "No, no, no." He yanked on his tunic. "You will not distract me to get your way. You are staying in this castle where you'll be healthy and safe."
"I am healthy, and I fear for your safety far too often. I can help with this threat."
Still in her thin, white nightdress, Brina rose to put her hands on her hips. Her honey-gold hair fell in waves to the middle of her back. Her big, blue eyes sparkled. She tried to look as fierce as possible, and Christian found her utterly adorable.
"Can you imagine yourself on a horse right now? The jostle and sway? You'd be sick every few miles."
Brina's hands shifted to her stomach. She placed them tenderly on the bulge that was just beginning to swell. "I'll ask Cook if there's a potion that might help."
"No, you're staying here. I won't have you sick for days, and I have three allies going with me—strong allies." He went to stand behind her. He circled his arms around her waist so that his hands rested over hers on her stomach. He took a long breath. "The only thing you need to concentrate on is caring for yourself and our child."
She turned her face, so that her cheek touched his. "Are you hoping for a son?"
"Our serfdom would be safer if I had an heir, but any child from your womb is a blessing for me."
She turned to circle his neck with her arms. "A daughter would be fine?"
He could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her nightdress. His wife was a temptress, as well as a witch. "With our blood? She'd be better than wonderful. She'd have so much magic, who'd dare to challenge her?"
Brina leaned into him, pressing herself close. "There are men who'd dispose of their wives if they bore them no males."
"Fools then. Father died when I was young. I grew up with Mother and Cook. Those two women could instill fear in the most powerful male."
She laughed and pulled away from him before her expression grew serious once more. "I'd prove mor
e of a distraction if I accompanied you. All you'd do is fuss and worry. Be careful when you go tonight. This woman instills fear, too…and death."
Christian nodded. He took her warning seriously. He'd met a lot of different magicks in his life, and they could be far deadlier than a sword.
* * *
They met at sun down. Jarman chose to stay in his human form to ride with Christian and Thurstan. Brom rode his huge, black dragon. They traveled until the moon had crested and begun its descent to the west.
When they came to Gilbert's fortress, Brom landed, but remained seated on Lothar. The horses were used to the dragon and paid him no mind. They slowed their gait and proceeded through the gates, then continued on, riding abreast. They were a few yards from the castle when a young woman with long, brown hair and a slender figure stepped into the courtyard.
"That's far enough!" she called.
Christian dipped his head. "We've come from neighboring lands to greet you."
She crossed her arms over pert breasts. "In the middle of the night? To greet me or to drive me away?"
"We have to keep Jarman's hours." Christian nodded toward the vampire.
The woman narrowed her eyes at him. "And why is that?"
Jarman sprang from his horse in a fast blur—a huge, muscled vampire, sprouting fangs and wings. His mount whinnied, and Jarman returned to his handsome, suave form just as quickly, petting the mare's sleek forehead. "Be calm, my pretty. I would never harm you."
"A bloodsucker." The woman's tone held only contempt.
"We have no quarrel with you if you have no quarrel with us," Brom replied.
She raised her chin, studying each of them in turn. "I've heard that before, but I'm in no mood to be driven away. I came here to make a stand, and that's what I intend to do."
"And the dead bodies that litter your pathway?" Brom asked.
Her temper flared. "Some men believe a lone woman is fair prey. I ask you, would a woman come to claim a kingdom if she had no powers?"
The four men exchanged glances. They vividly remembered the old villager who'd chosen to remain here after Gilbert died. He'd been the one who turned Emma and Isolda in as witches. Whether he truly believed they were or not was questionable, since he'd inherit their property if they burned. Several of the others who remained were soldiers who hoped to profit from their lord's demise. None of them struck Christian as honorable men.
Christian nodded. "We met the men who chose to stay. We can sympathize with your argument."
"I warned off the peasant who visited here. He meant me no harm." She glared. "So what happens now? A standoff?"
Jarman spoke. "You've come to a region of magic. It's punished elsewhere, but encouraged here. The men's corpses suggest you have magic of your own. Who and what are we dealing with? Do we need to worry?"
Her posture stiffened. "Do each of you work magic?"
"Each and every one of us." Brom bent forward to stroke his dragon's neck. "My wife is mistress of dragons, and Lothar chose me as his rider."
The woman's olive complexion paled. "How many dragons do you control?"
"More than you can defeat." Brom leveled a stare her way.
Her hazel gaze looked to Jarman. "And you? Are you a rogue?" She obviously knew about vampires.
Jarman shook his head. "Christian offered my band a home in his forest. We dwell there."
"A big band?"
"Big enough."
The woman's gaze rested on Thurstan. "Are you a vampire, too?"
Thurstan dismounted before he shifted. A monstrous werewolf stood before her. In a blink of an eye, he returned to his mortal state and swung back onto his steed. "Christian offered me a hut if I became his scribe."
She turned to Christian. "And you?"
He stepped far from his horse and the others before he burst into a halo of flames. When the fire subsided, he, too, returned to his horse.
She stared at him. "Are there more with your magic?"
"Many more witches, with many more powers, yes."
Her shoulders sagged. "My magic isn't strong enough to defend myself against you. I'm not even sure I can survive my enemies, but I'm tired of running."
"What are you?" Brom demanded.
She shifted, too. Her heart-shaped face extended into a long jaw line with a strong, curved, predator's beak. Her slender body grew sinewy and hideous. Wings sprouted from her back. Huge claws grew from her fingertips. Her legs stretched into bird legs with horrible talons at her toes. A stench settled over them. Just as quickly, she changed back.
Jarman raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A harpy? I haven't seen one of those for decades."
"Our progeny has been hunted nearly to extinction, but my sisters and I have used our magic to remain safe."
"What is your magic?" Christian asked.
"We four are storm goddesses. We can create hurricanes and tornadoes, high winds, when we're not so desperate. Do you have a witch with those powers?"
"Yes." Christian thought of the battle with the vampire army and the winds Sabina had called forth to keep them at bay. He wasn't sure if she could create tornadoes, but this woman didn't need to know that.
She grimaced. "Does everyone around here have powerful magicks?"
"Not everyone," Brom said. "But enough of us."
"Your name?" Jarman asked.
"Aelio. But I doubt that I can blow you and yours away before he torches me or the dragon chomps me. If you insist I leave, I will, but I promise you and yours no harm if you let me stay."
They looked at each other. Finally, Christian spoke. "We know what it's like to be hunted because of our magic. You said you came here to take a stand. Against what?"
"Echidna's children. They declared war on harpies a century ago when one of our offspring snatched a mortal that they'd been tracking. Hardly fair. The harpy didn't even know they were hunting it."
"It?" Brom scowled. Not the best pronoun for a human.
"Sorry, I avoid mortals when possible, but there are those who consider them food."
The men looked at each other, bewildered.
"Scribe?" Christian asked Thurstan. "You sing about gods and goddesses. Do you know what an Echidna is?"
Thurstan shrugged.
Aelio again crossed her arms, obviously irritated with their lack of knowledge. "Echidna's face and torso are that of a nymph's—enchanting to behold—but her body is that of a monstrous serpent. She dwells in a deep cave and eats the flesh of beasts and mortals she's dragged there."
"And her children? Are there many?" Thurstan asked.
Aelio grimaced with distaste. "Echidna shows indiscriminate taste in partners, showing as large an appetite for lust as she does for fresh meat."
Christian shook his head, trying to sort through the information she'd provided. "So what exactly is hunting you?"
"You'll make me leave if I say."
Brom glowered—something he did well. "We'll make you leave if you don't."
She sighed. "Half mortal, half snake, with wings, a poisonous barb at the end of their tails, and the ability to shrink or grow at will."
Jarman stared. "Such a thing exists?"
"There's a litter of them, at least a dozen."
"No more? Only one litter?" Thurstan asked.
Aelio shrugged. "Echidna often eats the partner she mates with."
"She sounds lovely." Jarman took a deep breath. "Her children must surpass her in their comeliness."
Brom, as usual, got straight to strategy and tactics. "How do we defeat them?"
Aelio gaped. "You're offering to help me?"
"I don't see that we have a choice," Christian said. "You're here. They must know that, and they're coming for you. Am I correct?"
She tangled her fingers in her thick, brown hair, pulling at it in frustration. She blinked quickly—clearly a woman who refused to let someone see her cry. "I can't stay now. I understand why people with magic come here. I didn't expect to find sympathy and support. I won't
endanger you."
Jarman stepped forward. "Christian gave my pack his forest to live in, to call our own. He rescued witches who were to be burned at the stake. He doesn't just tolerate magic. He protects it. A rare thing in this day and age. And it sounds like you deserve our protection. Let us help you."
She started to speak, but could not summon her voice. She took a deep breath, tried to compose herself. "You might very well not survive this."
"That's what the vampire army told us," Brom said. He squared his shoulders. "Most magicks run. They hide or fight their battles by themselves…and lose. These lands are different. We work together."
She stared. "Echidna's children can fly."
"So can I," Jarman said. "So can every vampire in our pack."
"Wings burn," Brom said. "Lothar and our dragons can provide enough fire to burn down most cities."
Aelio persisted. "Their tails have poisonous barbs."
"They have to reach us first." Christian stretched out his fingers and let flames dance across his knuckles.
Thurstan grinned. "Unless their tails are silver-tipped, they'll have no effect on me, other than maybe a tickle."
Aelio grew still and silent. She worried her bottom lip. "The last time we met, I blew them away with gusts of wind. They'll be sneakier now. They might come as insects. We won't even notice them."
Christian took a minute before answering. He wanted to think their problem through. "Then we'll have to be sneakier than they are. I have a witch…" He winced.
"What is it?" Aelio asked quickly.
"I used the word have, as though she's some sort of property."
"But she is, isn't she?" Aelio clearly didn't understand what bothered him. "If she's a serf, you own her."
"No one should own a fellow human being." Christian never thought of his peasants as property. The idea appalled him.
Aelio smiled, and it transformed her face. "You'd have made a good Greek."
"I doubt it. Greeks owned slaves."
"True, but our slaves were treated better than most serfs."
"Not here," Brom said. "Things are different here."
Christian brushed their debate aside. "I know a witch who can seal you in a protective bubble. When your enemies can't penetrate it, I'm guessing they'll shift to something larger, more powerful, something easy to see."