Warrior

by Lori Brighton

  “No,” I whispered, unable to speak any louder for fear my voice would catch and he’d realize how confused and lost I felt. I looked up at the clouds rolling down from the mountains beside us. Dark and foreboding, but they looked like the clouds on Earth. Didn’t they? If it was true, why hadn’t Sarah told me?

  “It is said,” he started, his voice quiet. It was as if we shared a secret. I didn’t want to share anything with him. “That we are descendants of the natural ones mating with humans.”

  “Natural ones?”

  “Fairies, nymphs, elves.”

  I bit back my manic laugh. Of course there were natural beings here. Why not, when there were unicorns? I had a feeling everything he told me was calculated, as if he tested me. For what, I wasn’t sure. I was tired of his games. “Why come all that way to get me? I’m no one special.”

  “But you are, my lady. You’re very, very important.”

  “Why?” I demanded.

  He seemed amused by my frustration. “I don’t think I’ll tell you just yet.”

  The comment was so ridiculous, insane, that it didn’t warrant a response. “And my people are your enemy, therefore you are taking me as leverage?”

  “Yes.”

  I gazed out onto the woods, hoping to spot the unicorn again, needing that validation. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The clouds were coming fast. Perhaps it rained puppy dogs and kittens in this realm. I wouldn’t have been surprised. “Why would my people care so much about me? I don’t even know them.”

  “Maybe not, but they know you.”

  I frowned, perplexed by his half-answers. “How will you stop them? Will you kill me?”

  “You will be handed over to my uncle when we reach the castle.”

  He hadn’t answered my question. I swallowed hard, trying desperately to ignore the tremble of my tied hands. Did he notice? We’d made it close to the front of the small group of soldiers. By tonight we’d reach his land. By tomorrow I might be dead. No more. Gone. I wondered how Sarah would feel when I never returned. Would she be relieved? Most likely. Would anyone miss me? I wanted someone to miss me. Anyone.

  “My lord,” a soldier called from ahead.

  Makaiden finally released my hand. “Yes, Gregor?”

  With fisted fingers, I tucked my hands to my lap, hoping to prevent him from touching me again. I recognized Gregor. He was the man who had been in my tent when I’d awoken. The man who had leered at me like I was a piece of trash. A look I’d seen too many times coming from the rich kids at school to care. It was obvious he and Makaiden were friends. Another reason not to trust the prince.

  “Something is wrong, my lord.”

  I could hear the sigh of impatience in his voice. “What is it?”

  “Up ahead, around the bend, there is a carriage blocking the road.”

  “You know what to do. Make sure everyone is on alert.”

  They moved together as a unit, slowly, carefully toward the bend in the road. It was a subtle shift that raised the fine hairs on my arms. They were worried about something. I switched my attention to the woods around us, trying to see what they saw. Unicorns, fairies…what else waited out there? What worried them? The clouds had arrived, the landscape dark and dreary, the shadows long and mysterious.

  The carriage came into view. A simple wooden structure that looked as if it belonged in the Medieval Ages. For a variety of reasons, my unease increased. Gregor moved his mount toward the carriage and spoke quietly to the old couple. They huddled close together, wrinkled faces pale and wide-eyed. They were terrified, alone. I didn’t blame them for being afraid. An elderly couple stranded on the side of the road, surrounded by soldiers…

  “Broken wheel,” Gregor called out. “They can’t move it.”

  “Then we go around,” the prince snapped back.

  Of course. He was a prince, he couldn’t be kept waiting, certainly not for an elderly couple in need. The longer I was in his high and mighty presence, the more I couldn’t wait to escape.

  “Or,” I dared to say, looking back at him. “Your many men could help them.”

  He hesitated, his intense gaze searching my face. I had a feeling hardly anyone questioned his authority. Thunder rumbled above as if in warning. If we didn’t help, the old couple would be caught in the rain. The longer he searched my face, the more uneasy I became. What did he look for in my gaze?

  “Do they not teach you chivalry?” I asked softly.

  “I know chivalry.”

  “Show me.”

  His jaw clenched, his gaze still pinned to me. “Gregor, fix the wheel.”

  Surprised, I turned back around so he wouldn’t see the flush of pleased embarrassment on my face. He could be kind. Maybe. He just needed a nudge. It gave me hope when I’d fast been losing it. Five of the soldiers dismounted and went to assist the older couple. Although I noticed the annoyance that flashed across Gregor’s face, none of them questioned Makaiden’s command.

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  His arms loosened. “I didn’t do it for you.”

  And just like that my pleasure faded. Why, then? Did he hope to charge them a fee? Or was it just his eagerness to get home? “Of course not, you jackass. You did it because they were in the way.”

  “What is a jackass?”

  I hid my grin. “Someone compassionate and honorable.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “My lord,” Gregor called out. “There’s something odd. Something…”

  The world around us exploded. Tiny bits of debris peppered my body. It took a moment for me to realize that the carriage had been blown to pieces. Flames shot through the air. I could feel the heat of the fire right before the prince reacted. One moment I was on the mount, the next he tore me from the horse and fell with me to the ground. He landed atop me, his weight crushing my body to the soft earth.

  “Don’t move! Stay down!” he commanded.

  Those eyes…those eyes were green again. Glowing. A vibrant, glowing green. While I tried to understand what had happened, he leapt to his feet, drew his sword, and dove into the action with brutal force.

  I was alone.

  For a brief moment, I merely lay upon the soft ground, trying to sense my body again, terrified I’d been gravely injured and just couldn’t feel it yet. As the clash of metal broke through the sound of ringing in my ears, I rolled to my side, attempting to put the pieces together through the haze of pain and confusion. A man lay next to me. His eyes closed, his body still.

  I reached out, shoving his shoulder with my clasped hands. “Hey! Sir, what…”

  His head lulled toward me. Blood trailed from the corner of his mouth. I cringed. Dead? I didn’t want to know. I stifled a groan and pushed my hands into the ground, managing to sit up. My hair fell in waves around my face, the scent of burnt wood clinging to the strands. A bomb had gone off. My arms stung, the chill wetness of blood on my biceps. My sleeves shredded. I’d been injured, but how badly?

  Someone yelled. Another man fell not ten feet from me, blood spurting from a wound in his neck. He was still. Dead. Life draining from that cut. Bile rose in my throat. My fault. This was all my fault. I’d dared the prince to stop and help.

  The soldier’s sword lay uselessly at his side. Escape. I had to escape. Horses and men trampled the area not ten feet from me, a cloud of dust surrounding them. Pale, sweaty snarling faces of men. Terrified wide-eyed horses. They were getting closer. Within moments, I’d be trampled.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  Run. Run. Run.

  Without thought, I grabbed the sword near me, gripped it with my feet, and used the sharp edge to cut the rope around my wrists. The bonds came free but I didn’t have time to rejoice. I grabbed the sword and darted into the trees, stumbling and tripping over branches and rocks that littered the forest floor. Sweat trailed down my temples but I didn’t dare slow. Through the branches and thorns that tore at my clothing, I spotted a large oak tree standing tall
and strong. Protection. That tree would protect me.

  The sword was heavy, pulling at my arms and dragging on the ground, leaving a trail in the dirt that would lead directly to me. With a growl, I hefted the weapon upward, running with the heavy weight at my side. Drop it, or keep it? Desperate, I dove behind the massive oak. I had to keep the sword; it was my only weapon.

  “My lord!” someone yelled. “You must go! We have to get you to safety!”

  “I won’t leave without her!” the prince snarled, his voice feral and desperate in a way that made me shiver. Gone was his charm. “I won’t!”

  I cowered behind the tree and gripped the leather-wrapped hilt of the sword. Would I kill him if I had to? The very man who had saved me from the explosion? Could I kill someone, even in self-defense?

  A small blue bird landed on a branch above me. He tilted his head, as if trying to understand my presence, and then chirped.

  “Shhh,” I whispered.

  The bird fluttered away. I slouched even lower, digging my feet into the soft dirt, and willing my frantic breath to quiet. I could hear the crunch of branches and leaves as they came closer…closer.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Gregor snapped from somewhere behind the tree. “They have twice as many men as us. We need to leave now.”

  “I can’t. If I fail, he wins!”

  My legs had grown numb, but I didn’t dare shift into a more comfortable position.

  “If you don’t leave, you’ll die! Or worse, be captured.”

  I held my breath until my lungs burned, and kept as still as possible. The prince cursed. A moment later they spun around and retreated. The woods grew still, watchful. I could only breathe again when I heard the thunder of horse hooves in their escape. They were gone.

  I dared to peek around the tree. The prince’s men had left behind only a cloud of dust and their opponents. A cheer rang up from the remaining crowd. An eerie war cry that combined with the clank of metal against metal as they beat their swords upon their breastplates. Half of the men were covered in blood and I had a feeling it wasn’t their own. Were they any better than Prince Makaiden?

  I stared hard at the group, taking in each sweaty face, looking for a sign of familiarity. A cold wash of fear rushed over me. Nothing. I knew no one but the soldier who had found me in New York. Brynjar. How could I trust them when I didn’t even know them?

  I turned back around and studied the woods. Pretty, I realized with a start. Beauty, in a world of chaos and blood. Pink blossoms peppered a few of the trees. Little blue flowers carpeted the forest floor. Even birds chirped from the branches above. But this was no ordinary forest. I swallowed hard.

  Something vibrated the very air, an energy that made me uneasy and curious all at once. Something I couldn’t quite explain. It was as if I stood at the precipice of something incredibly important, something that could change my life for good or bad forever.

  “Saddle up and return,” Brynjar called out.

  “The woman?” someone asked.

  I stiffened, sweat trailing down my back, making my shirt cling to my skin. Frantic, I dared to glance around the tree. They stood gathered on the road.

  “I’ll find her.” He pressed his hand to his side where his wound festered. I could see the blood seeping through his shirt. The stitches had popped. I jerked back behind the tree, hiding from view. Should I run? Or dare I trust him?

  “She must be around here somewhere.”

  I didn’t wait for more, but jumped to my feet and raced farther into the trees. Trust my instincts, my mother had said in one of her more lucid moments. My instincts screamed at me to get the hell out of there. I’d only been running a few minutes when I heard the crash of branches breaking. He’d found me.

  “Rallora Rybengotten!”

  My body trembled. I ignored him and burst out of the trees, into a clearing. I would not die without a fight.

  My freedom and bravado were short-lived. I stumbled to a stop, pausing at a cliff’s edge. The steep slope loomed below, a drop that would most likely kill me, if not greatly injure. I stepped closer. As close as I could get without tumbling down the incline.

  “Stop,” Brynjar demanded. “You have nowhere to go.”

  My heart hammered madly, threatening to burst from my chest. Instinct told me to jump, my brain told me not to be stupid. “My name is Shay!”

  “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

  Easy for him to say.

  A soft rain began to fall. Chill and wet, it coated my arms and face. A misty rain that was more irritating than refreshing.

  “Come, Rallora Rybengotten, we’re here to escort you home.”

  I spun around to face him, the sword held high. He and I both knew the weapon was useless in my hands. He was close. Why didn’t he attack? So close I could see flecks of gray in his blue eyes. Calm eyes. He knew I had nowhere to go. He knew he’d won. I hoped he didn’t notice how much my hands shook.

  His hair was blonde and wild, scruff on his face. He looked like a young Thor. How old was he? Twenty? Twenty-five? It was hard to tell. For some reason it was important for me to know. “You’re taking me back to New York?”

  “New York?” He hesitated, as if confused. “No.”

  I lowered my arms, the sword falling to the ground. There was no escaping. At least not right now. “Then where?”

  Carefully, slowly, he stepped up beside me, his gaze pinned to the land below. I followed his line of vision. Rolling hills, forests, streams, and in the distance…ocean. But it was the white castle perched near the sea, as if it had morphed up from the very earth, that caught my attention.

  “There,” he said, pointing to the castle in the far distance. “I’ve come to take you there.”

  Chapter Four

  Makaiden

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Gregor muttered under his breath.

  From my chair at the head of the great hall, I stared down the aisle of the large room. From the tapestries my mother had hung so many years ago, to the swords Father had insisted on having at the ready, they were part of my family history. He wanted to intimidate visitors, even as my mother wanted to welcome them. How many nights had we spent here, eating, laughing, discussing the lands and the people? Our culture. Our pride.

  Thinking about my past was better than focusing on an uncertain future. Better than giving into my anger, the pain, the darkness that resided deep within.

  My fingers curled over the arms of the chair, the wood smooth with age. A throne my father had sat in for decades, ruling over the land. The chair where he looked down upon his subjects and met out extreme but fair discipline. He’d told me that one day this throne would be mine. But would it? Would these subjects ever respect me enough to bow down? Or would my uncle get to them first?

  The doors burst open, banging against the stone walls, the sound echoing like thunder. “You lost the girl?”

  I took in a deep breath, trying to calm the surging heat through my veins. Losing control would be disastrous, no matter how much I wanted to destroy him. My uncle swept down the aisle in a flurry of dark clothing that matched his black soul. The anger in his voice was hardly contained, it practically vibrated through the massive hall, shaking the iron chandeliers above.

  “She’s hardly a girl,” I dared to respond.

  My uncle had always been one to underestimate the female population. He stared hard at me as he moved down the aisle, not appreciating the comment. The hatred in his gaze was familiar. It was something I’d noticed as a small child and briefly wondered over.

  Father had told me there would always be jealous people. Uncle had seemed like an overly temperamental giant. As a boy I’d laughed and mocked the man behind his back, and as I grew older, to his face. He hadn’t bothered me, for I’d had my father and his army as protection. A buffer between me and his hate. Now, I had only myself.

  I stood from my father’s throne, my uncle’s throne at the moment. My father had always been a harsh ruler, but h
e’d been fair. At one time this kingdom had been happy, a pleasant place to live. Yes, the people had been expected to work hard and obey their king, but they were rewarded with food and shelter. Now they were dreary, desperate, fearful. My uncle had turned my kingdom into a cesspool of backstabbing and power-hungry individuals.

  “Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” he snarled.

  “She was quite good at sparring, Uncle Aksel.”

  His jaw clenched.

  I swept by him, strolling down the steps of the dais as if I hadn’t a care. I’d spent my youth having fun, flirting, drinking, mocking the very elite who gave me my power. Until one day, my father had died and I suddenly found myself alone, too young to be king.

  My uncle took his seat in the chair I’d vacated. From that throne, he looked so much like my father it was a bit startling. Long, dark beard streaked with gray, dark hair, blue eyes, tall and broad-shouldered. Even their demeanor was similar. But my father had at least been able to control his temper. They’d respected him because he’d been a good leader. My uncle garnered respect from brute force, intimidation, fear. And lies. So many lies that they eagerly believed. A false power that would one day get him overthrown, if not killed. Unfortunately, I couldn’t wait that long.

  “Do you understand what we lost?” he hissed. “Do you have any idea what we had?”

  “I fail to see why you are so upset.” He wore my father’s signet ring. For some reason that angered me most of all. “You hadn’t a clue I’d gone after the woman. So, what did you have to lose after all?”

  His eyes flashed. If he could have killed me outright, I knew in that moment he would have. But there were witnesses. Gregor, and at least five other soldiers who stood at attention near the doors. Perhaps at some point he would make me look so incompetent that not even the soldiers would care if he got rid of me. But not today. Today they were still loyal to the rightful heir.

  “You really don’t have any idea what you’ve done. Or maybe you don’t care. Maybe you don’t want us to succeed.”