Fire Hawk

by Justine Davis, Justine Dare

  What she could not see is how anyone could serve a master with those eyes. What they held was worse than evil, even evil had a purpose, even evil cared about that purpose. What these eyes held was . . . nothingness. A vast, endless expanse of emptiness, that would suck up souls as easily as blood.

  She felt a shiver that had little to do with the chill of the stone walls of the stronghold Druas had commandeered for his use. She did not want to think of what had probably happened to the prior owners. She had been brought here bound and gagged, and left in a cold, damp cell she supposed was below ground, for how long she did not know. But when he had at last had her brought before him, Druas had ordered her released, had even offered her food and drink. She had refused, despite the dryness of her mouth and throat, and the urge she felt to wash away the taste of the filthy cloth they had used to silence her.

  A shout came from outside, followed by an answering shout and running footsteps along an upper battlement as some sentry ran from his post to another. Druas cocked his head, listening, but when nothing more came, he turned back to her.

  After a moment he walked over to her, offering her the goblet he had drunk from. She turned her head away.

  “ ’Tis not poisoned,” he said. “As you saw, I drank of it myself.”

  “ ’Tis poisoned now, then.”

  Again to her surprise, he laughed. And again, it was a soulless sound that chilled her.

  “I see your fire matches your hair, as I was told.”

  Jenna went still. Told?

  “Shall I tell you what else I know?” Druas asked, his fingers tapping the side of the silver goblet. They were blunt, the pads of his fingers seeming to swell up over the short nails in a way that made Jenna think of the brute strength of an animal. “I know that this forest to the east is the reputed location of Hawk Glade, which most take to be merely a legend. I know that the clan who supposedly lives there is under the protection of some magical spell that prevents outsiders from finding them.”

  “Everyone has heard such legends,” she said easily, thankful that Tal had told her of the commonness of such stories about her home on the outside. “Even I have heard them. ’Tis common enough, stories of distant places, magical forests, that sort of foolishness.”

  “ ’Tis said this clan has a leader marked by the possession of a golden hawk.”

  “Ah. So it is that you are after? Some piece of gold? It seems a small bit of plunder for such as you. Assuming it even exists.”

  Druas erupted into sudden motion, flinging the goblet against the wall. It barely missed Jenna’s head, and the red liquid it held splashed across her tunic like blood.

  “Do not play me for a fool,” he ground out, fury now contorting his face into a vicious mask, and she thought herself the fool for ever thinking there was not pure evil here. “I know who you are, Jenna.” Her breath caught at his unexpected use of her name, and he smiled viciously. “I know that you are the Hawk, leader of the clan of Hawk. And I know the magic that protects Hawk Glade is real, is the only reason we have not yet trampled your clan into dust.”

  “Lucas,” she breathed.

  “Yes,” he hissed out. “The boy told me everything I wanted to know. Before he died. Slowly.”

  Jenna tried to bite back her cry of pain; Lucas’s life had been so short, so full of pain and loss, to have died what must have been a horrible death at this man’s hands. . . .

  “You have truly earned your reputation,” she said bitterly.

  “I have only begun to build my reputation,” Druas retorted with smug satisfaction. “And my empire. I hold every bit of land between here and the sea. And before I am done, I will hold all to the mountains to the north and the plains to the south. No one will dare oppose me.”

  “You are overly confident,” Jenna said, even knowing the likelihood of anyone strong enough to withstand Druas’s might was very slim.

  She heard another noise from outside, but Druas did not seem to notice this time; he was too intent on cowing her. “When I am through here, there will be no one to oppose me. No one.”

  “Even you cannot defeat the magic of Hawk Glade.”

  “Even the magic of Hawk Glade cannot withstand the torch,” Druas said.

  He will have his path to the north, if he has to cut down every tree of your forest.

  Kane’s ominous promise echoed in her ears; she supposed burning or cutting made little difference. And they did not know if the magic of the glade would hold under such an assault. They knew so little of how or why it had come to be. She wished Tal were here; he knew of such things, he could—

  “I will have this land,” Druas said. “And you cannot stop me, even with some magic spell to hide behind.” He leaned forward, pinning her with those uncanny, dead eyes. “Nor can anyone else.”

  Kane, Jenna thought instantly. Did he know? Heaven help them, did he somehow know that the man who had turned on him was helping them? Had poor Lucas let that slip as well?

  How could he not have? she realized. He was just a boy, and he had been more awed than any of them by the great warrior’s presence. It would have taken little to get him to boast of it. Far less than what Druas had no doubt done—

  The sudden, heavy pounding on the oaken door made her jump.

  “Sir!” The door crashed open, and a panting, heavily armored man staggered into the room. “Sir, the north wall is under attack! They are firing arrows flaming with something that will not be put out. Several men have been injured.”

  “Arrows?” Druas exclaimed, his tone incredulous. “Against stone walls?”

  “But they are . . . different, I tell you. They cannot be smothered, or doused. ’Tis sorcery, I swear! They just keep burning, and if you are struck—”

  The man broke off at Druas’s sharp gesture. “What action have you taken?”

  “I’ve ordered all the standing guards but the four corners to the fray. I’ve rallied the rest of the men. They are arming themselves now.”

  “Get those guards back in place!” Druas snapped.

  “But—”

  “Are you too big a fool to see that this was meant to draw our attention to the north wall? Do it! And pull all the men from the inside corridors to the battlements and the towers.”

  “But that will leave the interior vulnerable—”

  “Exactly as I wish it. Do not question me again!”

  The man scrambled to do his leader’s bidding. Jenna thought—hoped—Druas had forgotten her. But he turned back to her then, wearing a smile that chilled her to her soul.

  “So. He comes.”

  She swallowed, wishing there was some other way to interpret that smile and those words. There was not. When he saw her reaction, his malevolent smile deepened.

  “What the boy said was true, then. I disbelieved it at first, for I know Kane. He would never risk himself for a mere woman. But when the boy insisted it was true with his dying breath—”

  “You bastard,” Jenna hissed.

  “ ’Tis Kane who is the bastard. He and his whore of a mother are of the same ilk. He turned on me, and I take that from no man. I will have his head by morning.”

  He had planned this, Jenna realized with shock. He had known Kane was here, and he had planned this. The trap she had walked into had been for her, but Druas had only wanted her to bait an even bigger trap.

  “It was he you wanted all along, wasn’t it?”

  “Clever girl,” Druas said. Then he smiled, that chilling smile. “I have removed even my own guards, leaving the way conveniently open for him. I wish to kill him myself. With my own hands, as he deserves.”

  Kane, Jenna thought, pleading to all the gods at once, even while doubting there were any powerful enough to stop this man. Druas laughed, that frigid, dead laugh, as he picked up the bonds he
had ordered removed from her hands and used them to tie her to the chair he pulled out from the table that held the wine.

  “And once Kane is dead,” Druas said once she was tightly bound, “there will be no one to stand in my way. No one.” He looked at her consideringly. “And once he is dead, perhaps I shall have to sample the woman he thought worth dying for. Perhaps she could interest even me.”

  She ignored the threat and thought only of Kane. She didn’t doubt Druas was right; as well as Kane knew his former leader, that leader would know Kane. And the realization that Druas feared him warmed her even as it doubled her dread for Kane.

  He had come for her.

  And he would die because of it.

  And for the first time in her life, Jenna felt a pain as strong as that she felt for the clan she loved. She could no more bear to be the cause of his death than she could bear to stand by and let her people die.

  And she thought it a cruel joke that it was only now, when it was too late, that she finally realized what that meant.

  Chapter 21

  KANE PRESSED himself back against the cold stone wall. He heard the shouts, heard the sound of running footsteps overhead and knew that Druas had guessed Arlen’s attack of the north wall was a diversion. He hoped Arlen had followed orders and had gathered his small troop and retreated by now.

  He hadn’t expected he would have long, a few minutes at most, but it had been enough to get inside unseen, over the east wall that had been momentarily deserted. Arlen might not be a born fighter, but he was a courageous man, and he’d held their attention long enough. Kane could only hope they could avoid capture by the men Druas would send after them. If they could just make it to the protection of the forest in time, they would be safe. He no longer questioned the fact; he knew it worked and at the moment did not care how.

  He turned his attention back to his search. He knew nothing of this particular stronghold beyond what could be seen from the outside, but he had been in many others that Druas had taken, so he knew all he needed to find was the former master’s quarters and he would find Druas; the man took the best as his due.

  He moved down the shadowy corridor; Druas was as stingy with light as always. But then creatures like him did their deeds most easily under cover of darkness.

  Kane did not exclude himself from that group. Now more than ever, he loathed himself for what he’d brought down on Jenna. For he had little doubt what had happened here. There was no reason they hadn’t slaughtered both the boy and Jenna on sight. No reason but one; Druas had needed them for some reason of his own. And there was only one reason Kane could think of.

  Druas knew he was here.

  In a way, Kane thought as he checked room after empty room—Druas had already done his looting, it seemed from the bareness of the chambers—it was a relief. Five years ago he’d walked away, but he’d never really left it behind. It had never really been over. He had run, had hidden like some wounded wild thing, while Druas had searched for the warrior who had betrayed him. And he would continue to hunt, Kane realized now. That feeling he’d had of being a prisoner on his mountain was no less than the truth. And he would remain a prisoner as long as this man continued to hunt him. Which meant as long as he was alive.

  He should have done this long ago. Should have confronted Druas, and ended it one way or another. But now Druas had Jenna and the thought that she might be the one to pay the price for his cowardice made him shudder. He fought it down; there was no place for emotion in this exigency. If he could not quash these distracting feelings he would have little hope of saving her. He had to be as cold, as ruthless as he had always been. There was no other way to deal with Druas.

  But there was no way he could forget that it was Jenna’s life at stake. And that if she lost her life because of him, he would be worse than dead. The memories that haunted him now would be nothing compared to the memories that would torture him if she died because of him.

  He came to a turn in the corridor and stopped. He edged closer to the corner and peered down through the darkened hall. As he had suspected, a pair of heavy oaken doors marked a larger room. This room faced the south, and would get the benefit of the longer hours of sun to warm the stone in the summer; it was natural the master would choose this for his own rooms.

  And the absence of any guards, here and anywhere else inside the stronghold, told him as clean as if it had been shouted from the battlements.

  Druas knew he was coming.

  He had always known Druas would want to kill him with his own hands. It was his way with traitors, and he took great pleasure in it. And in bringing the betrayer to his knees first. There was nothing Druas liked better than having a man beg for his life; it made the taking of it so much sweeter, he was fond of saying.

  He knew all the begging in the world would not satisfy Druas when it came to himself. And he had a good idea of what it would take to satisfy the man’s thirst for vengeance. Men who had only been enemies had received easy deaths compared to what Druas reserved for those rare few who betrayed from within.

  He would no doubt have something bloodily inventive in mind for the man who had betrayed him the most, his right hand, his most trusted ally.

  It was no more than he deserved, Kane thought, and started down the dank corridor. He made no effort at silence; it was pointless now. Nor did he hesitate at the heavy doors; he merely kicked one open with a heavy thrust of his foot. It crashed back against the inner wall.

  He saw Jenna first, tied and helpless, saw her eyes wide with fear and regret and sorrow. And something else he dared not name, something that leapt to life in the vivid blue the instant she recognized him.

  “Welcome back, Kane the Warrior.”

  The voice was the same as it had ever been, cold, lifeless, soulless. He did not look at the man he had once followed, had eyes only for the woman who had made him see he was not the same, although the knowledge had come far too late to save him.

  But perhaps not too late to save her.

  “Let her go,” he said.

  “What? No greeting after all these years?”

  “Let her go, or we have nothing more to say.”

  Druas laughed again, and this time there was a note of triumph in the glacial sound.

  “So ’tis really true, what the boy said. Kane the Warrior, brought to his knees by a mere woman.”

  “Let her go,” Kane repeated, “and you can have what you really want.”

  “Kane, no,” Jenna whispered.

  Druas glanced at her for a moment, but not long enough for Kane to move.

  “Interesting,” Druas observed dispassionately. “How did you manage that?”

  “She has nothing to do with this.”

  “True,” the pale-eyed man agreed. “She and her little clan are merely a nuisance I shall soon be rid of. I was simply curious as to how you, of all men, had managed to charm such a fierce one. Has she a penchant for your kind of cruelty?”

  “Little you know of him,” Jenna said, but subsided when Kane looked her way and gave a slight shake of his head.

  “Even more interesting,” Druas said.

  There was a clatter in the hallway, and four armored men appeared in the doorway. Druas glanced at them.

  “Stay in the corridor, await my call. And close the door,” he ordered. “I shall deal with this.”

  One of the men protested. “But, sir, there are men gathering—”

  “Can you not even deal with such a puny threat as this pitiful clan of farmers and gatherers? Close the door! And do not set foot in here again unless I order you to!”

  Hastily they did so, and Druas turned back to his study of the man who had once been his best warrior.

  “Let her go,” Kane repeated. “I am the one you want.”

  “And I have you,” Druas s
aid. “I see no reason I should let her go.”

  “I am here,” Kane corrected. “But I have not surrendered.”

  Druas’s thin brows rose. “You are saying you would, if I let her go?”

  “I would.”

  “Kane, no! You cannot!” Jenna’s cry ripped through him like a broken, rusty knife. He did not dare look at her. He was aware she struggled against her bonds, but as long as she said no more he concentrated on his deadly enemy.

  “You would give yourself up to me, knowing what awaits you?” Druas asked in obvious fascination.

  “Only when I know she is safely away.”

  “So ’tis really true. Kane the Warrior, enslaved by a female. Is she so very good in the carnal arts to have bewitched you so?”

  Kane’s jaw tightened. There was no safe answer to such a question; Druas did not indulge himself often, and he did not want him to take an idea that Jenna should be the exception.

  “Let her go, and I will hand you my blade.”

  “But I will have you anyway,” Druas pointed out. “My men are within call, and even Kane the Warrior cannot overcome such a force.”

  Kane lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug, as if his words meant little to him. “Perhaps. But it would be easier for you without a fight.”

  Druas studied him for a moment. “And perhaps worth it, to see you so humbled.”

  “You will see nothing until she is safely away.”

  Druas looked thoughtful. Kane did not move, knowing that if he dared even glance at Jenna he would lose his concentration, and Druas would be on him in a heartbeat.

  “I make you a different offer, Kane. One I have never made to any other man. I do it because of the bond between us. And because no warrior has ever quite taken your place.”

  It was an astonishing admission from such as Druas, and Kane was instantly wary.

  “I want nothing from you,” he said.