by James Somers
I had seen him in dreams and in my visions. I had thought to try and warn him, or somehow save him from the desperate villains seeking his life at the Mangy Cur Inn. I wanted to escape Evelyn and her bodyguard and her son in order to find my true love, but he had found me instead.
Killian stared into my eyes and he became transfixed, confused, perplexed—all the same emotions that were galloping through my mind like a stampeding herd of horses. His mouth dropped open in surprise and bewilderment. I found myself doing the same. Then a Cinderman appeared behind him, ready to kill the man of my dreams before I could even speak to him for the first time.
I screamed, trying to warn him of the creature creeping up behind him, but it was too late. The battle axe was falling already. Killian had not even turned his head yet. He only now broke from his confused state as my cry roused him.
He turned his head as the axe fell upon him. A broadsword intercepted the axe blade at the last moment. I found an older man—an older version of Killian—bearing into his defense with all of his strength, trying to stop the blow before Killian died. The older man repelled the strike, parried and delivered a deathblow before the Cinderman knew what was happening.
He turned with blood upon his hands, sword and clothing. “Get the girl away from here!” the older man shouted.
The man’s voice roused Killian completely. He turned toward me, grabbed my arms and lifted me up to my feet. We ran across the carriage away from the general melee of the king’s soldiers and Cindermen. The older man leaped back into the fray, swinging his broadsword with terrible fury.
Killian jumped down from the carriage to the street and then motioned for me to jump to him. I did so, and he caught me around the waist. Wisps of smoke slithered through the fighting throng like serpents, obscuring parts of the battle. We still had not spoken to one another, yet.
We ran down the street briefly, dodged between two buildings through an alley and passed through someone’s garden. People passed us here and there: soldiers running toward the battle, others coming to see what was happening, or possibly to help the soldiers. I was unfamiliar with my surroundings here in the city. I had never really been anywhere except the abbey.
All the while, Killian doggedly pulled me onward. My heels quickly became a hindrance. I cast them off with two quick kicks of my feet and went on bare feet with more ease. Killian didn’t seem to notice. He remained fixed upon the task of ushering me as far away as possible from the Cindermen.
We passed through streets, around homes, and out into markets, all at a dizzying pace. Most of the people did not pay us much attention. They were focused more on what was happening on the King’s Road. Still, my royal attire with its emblazoned coat of arms, was about as conspicuous as possible.
Finally, I realized that we must have some course of action. At this confusing pace, we might even run right back into the Cindermen. “Killian, we have to stop,” I said. “We need some sort of plan.”
Killian stopped abruptly in the street at the sound of my voice. He looked into my eyes and then around us for any danger. Then he pulled me near to the side of someone’s house.
“Who are you?” he whispered. He stood very close to me now. His hands gripped my shoulders and his expression was intense. I noticed myself trembling beneath his touch.
His questions caught me off guard a little. Of course, he couldn’t know me. I was the one who had visions and dreamed dreams. He couldn’t have any idea of my relation to him through those dreams. Still, I had hoped that he would know me already. It would certainly have made all of this easier.
I tried to proclaim my identity, but it came out as more of a timid squeak. “I’m Raven.”
Killian straightened, the intensity in his eyes diminishing somewhat to wonder. “Raven,” he repeated, “from my dreams to reality. How can it be?”
His statement made me weak. I felt like my legs might buckle at any moment. “You have seen me in your dreams?”
“Night after night, I have seen you, but I had no idea you were real,” he declared. “I can’t understand it.”
I was smiling now. Despite the danger, I could not help it. Killian knew who I was. My elation was almost more than I can describe. He knew me. How I had hoped it might be true, but I never really expected that it could be. I realized then, like Killian, that I had no idea how this thing between us in our dreams could be possible.
“You know my name already?” he asked. “How?”
“I saw you, as well,” I replied. “I thought you were only a man from my dreams, until I saw a vision of you at the inn where those men attacked you while you slept. I tried to warn you—”
His eyes widened at this. “You saw me at the Mangy Cur?” he asked. “The voice screaming my name—it was you?”
I nodded my head, scanning his face, finding recognition and bewilderment, anxiety and joy all fighting for supremacy there.
“You heard me cry out?”
“Yes,” he said, smiling excitedly, “you woke me just in time to fight my way out of that room.”
His hands rested on my shoulders. My hands were wrapped over his forearms. His corded muscles remained tense beneath his soiled shirt sleeves. We stood there smiling dumbly at one another, not knowing what to say.
Killian roused suddenly. “The Cindermen,” he said. “They’re trying to kill you?”
I nodded my head.
“But why?” he asked. Then he asked again, “Who are you, Raven?”
I lowered my gaze, ashamed to tell him what role I had to play in all this. “I am a Daughter of Eliam; the intended bond of Nathan, heir to the throne of House Rainier,” I said in a low voice.
My eyes came back to his face when my confession was made. His eyes were not as wide now as they were before. His brow was furrowed in perplexity and astonishment. Only now did he seem to notice my gown and, more importantly, the silver crest displayed there. Almost anyone in the kingdom knew this type of garment and what it represented.
Then, strangely, Killian smiled. “A Daughter of Eliam. How wonderful.”
I peered into his eyes. Clearly, he did not understand what I had just told him. How could he smile at my news?
“Killian, I am to become the bond slave of Prince Nathan,” I said again. “Why are you smiling?”
His grin faded. “It’s not the prince that makes me smile,” he said, “just that you are a Daughter of Eliam. Puzzle pieces are fitting together. I just can’t see the whole picture yet.”
“I don’t understand,” I confessed.
“That’s just it,” he said. “Neither do I.”
The sounds of battle drew us back to the reality of our situation. “We can’t stay here,” he said. “I have to get you safely away.”
“I can’t go to the palace,” I pleaded. “I can’t be turned over to Mistress Evelyn. She’ll force me to bond with Nathan as quickly as she can. I won’t do it; not now when I’ve finally found you.”
Killian smiled gently, drawing me into an embrace. His strong arms enfolded me. For the first time, perhaps in my entire life, I actually felt safe.
“I won’t allow that to happen,” he said.
Still, I could hear the uncertainty in his voice. Neither of us could stand against House Rainier. Evelyn would be desperate to get a hold of me for her son and for the sake of the monarchy.
I laid my head against his chest, trying to block out the world, not wanting this moment to pass. My arms enfolded his torso, pulling against his back. Now that I had found him, I did not want to let him go.
“I promise,” Killian added more confidently.
Tears welled in my eyes. These were words I had longed to hear, but never thought possible. Yet, I knew such sentiment was foolishness. Evelyn would not allow it.
“You should not make promises you cannot keep,” I said.
He withdrew a little in order to look me in the eye. “I never hoped such a woman really existed. Now that we’ve found one another in life, I will die be
fore I let you go.”
I nodded and tried to smile, though it came off weakly. I wanted to believe him; to believe that he could fulfill this desire. Somehow, it had to be possible. Otherwise, why would Eliam torture us this way? Surely, he had a plan that we did not yet realize.
Killian turned, taking hold of my hand, leading me away from the street. I had no idea where we were. I could only hope that my rescuer knew.
“We’ve got to get you out of sight,” he said. “Could that dress be any more conspicuous? They might as well have painted a bull’s-eye on you.”
“You know why this attack has come?” I asked. Of course, I understood the reason, but did everyone know?
“The rivalry between the houses is common knowledge,” Killian replied, leading us through an alley between a bakery and a tenement. “What I don’t understand is the presence of the Cindermen. What great house would ally themselves with such creatures?”
“I suppose any who want a powerful ally like Judah?”
“That’s just it,” he said. “The great houses of the empire have all decried the Cindermen as abominations. Even to Malkind worshippers, they are seen as monsters that should be destroyed.”
“Then someone is lying about their convictions,” I said.
We paused at the head of the alley, peering toward the street beyond for any danger. Behind us sounded the whinny of a horse. When we looked, we found the very last person I wanted to see.
The assassin, Kane, sat upon his black stallion at the far end of the alley. His face was hidden in shadow beneath his hat brim, but I could feel the icy stare coming from those eyes. I could sense the malice of the Malkind spirit within him. I had hoped to finally be free, but Evelyn’s hired killer had come for me.
The nightmarish steed reared back on its hind legs, Kane remaining fixed in the saddle like a champion unperturbed. He spurred the beast onward toward us without preamble. He didn’t have a weapon in his hand—not yet—but I doubted he would need one. I had thus far been unable to resist the power of his spirit. What hope could poor Killian have against this devil, when he was only a mortal man?
“The queen’s bodyguard?” Kane said.
At once, I became terrified that Killian would simply turn me over to the man. He might not have known what manner of wickedness indwelled Evelyn’s assassin. What if he did not care?
Then he did something I did not expect. Killian released my hand and drew an elegant sword from the scabbard on his back—the same sword he had used to cut through the battered door of the armored carriage moments ago. He positioned himself between me and Kane, his weapon held at guard.
Kane and his mount came up short, the horse taking to its hind legs again in frustration. The assassin was better seen now as he regarded my protector. His stallion bore down upon us, frothing at the mouth, expressing the temperament of the spirit within the man.
“Step aside, boy,” Kane said menacingly.
I felt rather than saw the power surging from the assassin—a direct emanation from the Malkind spirit within. That energy came at us—at Killian standing in front of me with his sword. However, something unexpected occurred. The Malkind spirit’s power was somehow reversed by the blade Killian held. The energy returned upon the assassin.
Kane was thrown from his mount. The horse was bashed into the building wall to our right and nearly toppled to the ground. Killian was as surprised by the exchange as I was. Even my natural ability as a Daughter of Eliam did not allow me to counter such an attack.
Killian turned to me, holding the blade in a tight grip.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
“I’m not even sure what happened,” Killian said.
“You moved your arm to intercept the attack of the Malkind spirit living inside him.”
“It’s the sword,” he said. “Its will controls me overtakes me at times. The blade has been blessed by Eliam.”
Then the puzzle pieces fell into place for me. Of course, only Eliam’s power could have repelled such an attack. This weapon, blessed by Eliam, had the ability to do what even I could not do.
Kane, dazed upon the ground, began to stir.
“We must leave,” Killian said.
We turned toward the street, only to find at least two dozen soldiers waiting for us. The men surrounded the mouth of the alley, preventing us from going any further. Killian glanced back at Kane, who was just beginning to stand again. His hat smoldered on the pavement several feet away.
I grabbed hold of Killian’s sword arm to stop him. Clearly, he meant to fight, but I knew the futility of the act. He would be killed, and I could not bear the thought.
Surprised, he held his defense, looking me in the eye. I took hold of his face with trembling hands and kissed his lips. His mouth conformed to mine eagerly, his sword arm falling to his side as his free hand surrounded my waist to embrace me.
I withdrew, looking into his face. “You cannot win here,” I said. “I cannot watch you die. They have come for me. House Rainier will never let me go.”
Almost without either of us noticing, Kane approached and leveled his sword tip at Killian’s throat. He tore me from Killian’s grip and pushed me toward several of the approaching soldiers.
“See to it that our queen’s prize is secured and brought to her immediately,” Kane said. He regarded Killian. “This fool you will take to the palace clapped in irons.”
I surrendered to the soldiers, glad only that Kane did not immediately kill my love. He would live for now, and that was better than the alternative. As I was taken from Killian’s sight, manacles were applied to his wrists and his weapon was taken into custody. I left him, happy to have finally found him; a lingering tingle upon my lips from our first and last kiss.
First Order
Radden thrust his long sword into a reptilian Cinderman, twisting his blade viciously so that the beast’s innards spill out upon the ground. The Cinderman hissed out its final breath, eyes bugging as it fell away to the street. Many of this Cinderman’s comrades lay around it, dead or dying.
Fortunately for this battalion, reinforcements had arrived just in time to turn the tide during the attack by these abominable beasts. There had been no discovery yet of the means by which the Cindermen had been able to enter Rainier with such large numbers undetected. However, their leader, the lion-like Judah, was nowhere to be seen—an unusual circumstance for a Cinderman attack.
Radden gestured to several of the soldiers, asking if any of them had seen his son and the young lady who was riding inside the carriage. None of them had. None of them seemed to be in good enough condition to care at the moment either. These men were battered and bruised, some of them having bleeding wounds that required immediate care by a physician.
Pedestrians had come to help—some of them fighting with the soldiers against the Cindermen, others helping the wounded. The street was bloody also, as though the very ground had been wounded in order to bring forth this carnage. Radden surveyed the scene, unsure of which direction Killian ran with the girl. Surely, the boy had been able to get her safely away from the attack.
Then Radden saw someone standing in the midst of the haze which hung heavy in the street. This was no Cinderman and no soldier. The slender figure was feminine. Her skin was dark and her robes reminded him of only one person.
“Shalindra?” he whispered to himself. “Can it be?”
Radden found himself approaching the woman. She did not turn to regard him. Instead, she continued to stare at the body of a fallen Cinderman. When Radden came up behind her, he half expected to find Judah dead at her feet. However, this was only one of the wolf-like beasts and not their leader at all.
Radden planted his bloody long sword point down upon the road and dropped to one knee. His hands and hair and clothing were heavily matted with gore. His joints and muscles were sore from fighting, yet he would not risk dishonoring himself before the priestess again.
“Mistress,” he said simply, dropping his g
aze to the ground deferentially.
She did not turn, but spoke in a low voice where only he could hear. “Radden,” she said, “much has happened.”
“Yes, my lady,” he said. “I am surprised to see you in the city. I was not aware that you ever left the Brine Wood.”
“I find myself wherever Eliam desires,” she said.
“Of course,” Radden replied. “What is Eliam’s purpose in having you come here today?”
She turned now, looking down at him. “I have come to warn you, Son of Rainier.”
Radden lifted his gaze to meet hers. Addressing him as Son of Rainier was troubling to him. However, he did not wish to argue the matter with her again. She had refused already to hear his side of things, and Shalindra was a hard person to argue with besides.
“To warn me?” he asked.
“Do you not realize who it was the Cindermen came here to destroy today?”
“A girl,” he answered. “The one riding in the armored carriage. Who is she?”
“She is a Daughter of Eliam,” Shalindra replied.
“The bond meant for Prince Nathan?”
“The same,” Shalindra said. “You no doubt understand her value to House Rainier?”
“Precious beyond compare. Her power will belong to the new king,” he said. “Without a bond, Nathan cannot assume the throne when his father dies.”
Radden considered a moment longer and then started to speak.
“She is safe,” Shalindra said, anticipating his query.
“Killian?”
“Your son has saved her life.”
Radden exhaled deeply, as though a weight had just been removed from his chest. “Thank, Eliam,” he whispered, running bloody fingers through his matted hair.
“However, he will soon lose his own life, unless someone intervenes.”
Radden stood. “Why?”
“He has been taken into custody by the King’s Guard,” she reported.
Radden considered this new development for a moment. “But Killian saved the girl from the Cindermen,” he said. “Why would the king execute my son for heroism?”
“It might have something to do with the girl’s feelings for the boy,” Shalindra said, arching her brow.