THE WITCH
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DRAGON EYES
BOOK ONE
Kristina Hlaváčková
© 2019 Kristina Hlaváčková
Original text © 2014 Kristina Hlaváčková
English translation © 2019 Kristina Hlaváčková
Originally published in Czech as Čarodějka (Dračí oči, book one) by FRAGMENT, s.r.o., in 2014
Proofreading Jude Antony
Illustration page i © 2019 Veronika Trachtová
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1 CHAPTER
2 CHAPTER
3 CHAPTER
4 CHAPTER
5 CHAPTER
6 CHAPTER
7 CHAPTER
8 CHAPTER
9 CHAPTER
10 CHAPTER
11 CHAPTER
12 CHAPTER
13 CHAPTER
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Adam Hlaváček and Pavel Leger for being unbearably annoying. Without them, I wouldn’t have found the courage to publish. A huge thanks to Zuzana, Veronika, Romana and Sandra for an occasional verbal kick and undying support of my crazy ideas. To my parents. And to my second family Trudy Anne and Steve Beachler.
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1 CHAPTER
LITTLE FIGHTER
The castle hallways were full of fighting men. In the immense confusion of the slaughter, it was hard to tell attackers from defenders, as all were dressed in black Berber uniforms. Only an expertly trained eye could make out the well organized groups of guardians, standing their posts. The fighting did not take long. Even aided by the element of surprise, and disguised by illusion and Berber uniforms, the attackers did not stand a chance.
A new sound entered the subsiding buzz of battle. A baby crying. Queen Ashka had given birth to a little girl. The youngest of King John’s four children came into the world in a room full of Berber warriors standing guard, ready to defend their queen and her newborn child, the firelight reflecting on their drawn swords. Fighting was still audible outside, in the hall and there was smoke in the air. Ashka smiled at her daughter. The baby girl stopped crying and yawned. They named her Elena.
Sitting in a window niche, a slight six-year-old girl watched a group of boys walking through the garden. Their laughter reached her even over the distance. A deep line evolved on the child’s forehead, right above the nose. Pulling her knees under her chin, she wrapped them with her arms, waiting for her opportunity. The moment her nanny walked out of sight, Elena slipped away from the room. By the time she reached the gardens, the boys were already in the forest, well out of view. It did not matter, she knew the way by heart and followed surprisingly quickly and quietly, slowing down only when she got within earshot of her destination. Caution was of the essence now. She took cover, stepping even more lightly than before. Crawling for the last few meters, she settled comfortably under a bush, lying on her belly, supporting her chin with her hands.
Elena watched her brothers and the other boys as they learned to fight and handle their weapons. Luckily, she lay within earshot and could hear Aaron’s instructions, his corrections of stances and grips or scolding for inadequate cover.
Aaron was the captain of the king’s personal guard, and the wisest and most experienced of the king’s warriors. Most boys were joking that he was also the oldest. Elena figured he got old for a reason. Which was why she didn’t look directly at him. Her mother had made it clear that a true warrior could sense people looking at him. And she could not risk getting caught. Because if that happened, if Aaron found her here, she would never get another chance to learn ever again. What she was doing was against the law. Father would kill her or at least lock her up somewhere and throw the key away.
Aaron tilted his head to one side and under half-closed eyelids looked towards the trees. Once again he had a strange feeling that someone was watching him. A few days ago, when everyone had left the training ground, he had searched its surroundings. To find what he was looking for had taken him several hours of meticulous inspection. On one of the frequently used paths he discovered a child’s tiny footprint. Surprisingly, whoever left the print behind, had been extremely cautious. Even more surprising was the difficulty he had following the very few prints he could find. However, Aaron was far too experienced for the tracks to conceal their secrets from him. He spent several days tracking the tiny footprints, finding several different hideouts. The child was amazingly inventive. None of the hideouts had been used more than once, and nor had any of the routes. The child had looked for, and cunningly used, surfaces that made reading tracks difficult. Aaron did not discover a single broken branch or broken blade of grass. As hideouts, the little stalker had used trees, high grass, and bushes.
Now, standing amidst his trainees, Aaron was stealing glances towards the forest. He noticed a bird attempting to land on a bush. At the last moment, it changed its mind and flew away.
Elena tried to keep track of where Aaron was. It was essential not to lose sight of him. One moment he was standing there, his head to one side and the next ... Hell! He was gone! Elena took a deep breath, her heart starting to pound madly. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, she began to crawl out from under the bush. She had to be careful not to attract attention to herself by moving too fast. Finally free of the bush, she stood up, and turned. Still crouched, she ran a few steps before straightening her back to run into a huge, black-dressed somebody. Aaron! She fell on her butt, gave him a startled look, spun, scrambled onto her feet, and tried to flee. Aaron was too fast. Taking just one step, he reached for the girl, catching her by the collar and hauled her in. She was too tiny to best his strength. For a few moments he held her as she struggled and kicked the air. It was useless. All of a sudden, Elena stilled, becoming a ragdoll in her captor’s hand.
“Calm now, your highness?” Aaron asked.
“Put me down!” she replied and turned to face him the moment her feet touched the ground. It surprised the man to see her straighten her back and look him square in the eye. Aaron might have expected fear and maybe another escape attempt. Crying, pleading, possibly even bribery would not have surprised him. A calm look straight in the eye was definitely not something he anticipated. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited stoically. This was going to be interesting.
“Let’s go, then,” Elena proclaimed.
“Where exactly would your highness like to go?”
“Her highness would not like to go anywhere, but we both know you’ll take me to my father, so we might just as well get it over with,” she answered firmly, trying not to think about how unnerving Aaron’s look was. Had her spine permitted, she would have straightened her back even more. Just then, she would give just about anything not to feel like such a shrimp! He beckoned to her with a slight bow.
“After you, then, your highness.”
Elena turned on her heal and marched towards the castle. Aaron raised both his eyebrows, then wordlessly followed her. They formed an interesting procession; a small, determined girl with a huge black shadow behind her. They walked out of the forest, through the gardens and the side gate, into the main corridor of the castle. She stopped in front of her f
ather’s office door, ignoring the questioning looks of both the guards. One of them knocked and opened the door.
Elena took a deep breath and entered, followed by Aaron. King John raised his head and lay down his quill. He smiled, not really noticing the stern look on both of their faces. His daughter stopped well out of his reach. Aaron stood behind her, bowing ever so slightly.
“Well, well, well, what can I do for the two of you?” asked the king. Finally it dawned on him that something was happening.
Suddenly, the man in front of Elena was not her father, but her king. She was never afraid of him, even though he was a giant of a man who at first site commanded respect from most people. The king, however, was another matter. He seemed so sinister! He was gigantic and so serious! Suddenly, Elena was frightened. It seemed to be a great idea to take flight, hide where no one could find her, to simply curl up and wait for the storm to blow over. However, now it was a bit too late for that. She tried to look grown up and dignified. A difficult thing to accomplish when hardly over a meter tall…
“Sir, the princess was at the training ground,” said Aaron.
“I was not at the training ground, father, just near it,” Elena defended herself firmly. The king was watching her, thinking. Aaron stood behind the girl, motionless and pokerfaced.
“The reason being?” demanded the king.
“I want to learn to fight, just like my brothers,” Elena replied truthfully.
The King suppressed a notion to roll his eyes and stood up. Walking around the table, he sat on its edge, his arms folded in front of him. He was not quite used to talking to his daughter, since she tended to stand in the shadow of her fighting, shouting, and horseplaying three brothers.
“The training ground is no place for a girl,” he stated.
“Why not?” Elena asked with a disarming, childish sincerity.
“You are of royal blood, my dear. You are to learn proper behavior, to read, and write. You are to be the jewel in the crown, to become a wise wife of a king, and a mother to great warriors,” came John’s answer.
“How am I supposed to become a mother of great warriors if I don’t know how to be warrior? I can learn to read, write, and fight at the same time, just like all my brothers can,” Elena reasoned.
Her father furrowed his brow. “Unlike you, your brothers are growing to become men. A battlefield is no place for a woman.”
“If my brothers can learn to dance, why can’t I learn to fight?” Elena persisted. Her father smiled: “Because they will need to know how to dance, but you will not need to go to battle.”
“Please, please, father, let me learn to fight!” she pleaded, suddenly taking two quick steps in her father’s direction. He stooped towards her.
“How can you expect to become a warrior if you can’t even hide properly without getting found?” asked the king, confident that he had just found the final argument. Why then, did his daughter give him a happy smile? She straightened her back just a few millimeters more, and crossed her arms in front of her chest, mimicking her father. Proudly, she lifted her chin and rocked on the balls of her feet.
“But I’ve been hiding there for weeks, two months almost!” came her proud proclamation. The king’s smile froze. He lifted his head to look at Aaron, a question in his eyes. Aaron looked mildly surprised, which in his case meant something very close to panic, because Aaron never let his emotions show. His was usually a perfect poker face.
“I noticed her a couple days ago. She was smart about her hiding. It took me some time to actually find her.” The two men looked each other in the eye. All of a sudden, to Elena’s great surprise, the king laughed.
“Well, Aaron. You are the training ground commander, the decision is yours.” The king delegated his responsibility, hoping Aaron would show some sense. Elena turned to the captain with huge pleading eyes.
“Do you really want to learn to fight? Swell, then! If you make your stand against a fighter I choose, manage to inflict five blows, and still remain standing, I will teach you to fight. However, before you answer, beware that there will be no special treatment or exceptions for you whatsoever. You’ll be viewed the same as all the others,” Aaron explained quite seriously.
“When?” she fired. She was excited. Who was asking for any kind of special treatment, anyway? All she wanted was to match her brothers!
“Tomorrow morning” responded Aaron. The princess nodded vigorously. It was hard to restrain herself from jumping up and down with glee. She turned towards her father. Her eyes were shining.
“All right then, I will come and watch you duel. Do not think it will be easy! Off with you, before I change my mind.” He smiled, watching her skip off happily. Surprised and happy that she was not in trouble after all, she banged the door open and ran into the corridor.
The king, however, was not at all happy with the solution presented to him. It was anything but sage. He waited for the door to close, before he said: “I doubt your decision is wise, my friend.”
“Wasn’t it you who put it on my shoulders, sir?” Half stated, half asked Aaron.
“Point well taken, but I was hoping your verdict would be … different.”
There was no doubt about that, Aaron thought and smiled.
“What exactly would that accomplish, may I ask? We both know you would have to tie her down by both feet to keep her from going back.” Aaron sounded indifferent. King John nodded. Though he did not spend much time with his daughter, he knew this much: she had ants in her pants, and she was stubborn. Moreover, her brothers were always teasing her. This amounted to a dangerous combination. Even chaining her down might not be enough. Not unless they used a very thick chain and a whole bunch of different locks. And likely not even then. However, letting her onto the training ground did not sound like an option.
“What if she meets your conditions?” asked the king, and Aaron shrugged.
“Then she deserves to learn.”
“That doesn’t make it any wiser,” John protested further.
“Then you shouldn’t have let me decide.” Now it was the king’s turn to shrug his shoulders.
“Right, your training ground, your decision. What concerns me though, is that she isn’t the least scared,” he sighed.
“Following your example, perhaps?” The commander of the king’s personal guard dared to voice his “a chip off the old log” opinion.
◆◆◆
Elena walked onto the training ground, dressed in Berber black, holding a trak, a long Berber fighting staff, in her hand. She was nervous and pale as she walked all the way to the stands to bow to her parents. The whole arena was lined with boys, youths and men. An unnecessary blooming circus, in her opinion. She focused on Aaron standing in front of the main grandstand. The man made a slight gesture and a ten-year old boy stepped out of the line, also armed with a trak. He too bowed to the royal couple. Dars was his name and he was Elena’s middle older brother. He was Aaron’s considered choice though he was a head and half taller than Elena. Aaron figured Dars would not spare Elena in the least, but also hoped that he would not be unduly cruel. His parents were watching, after all.
The girl, however, was not happy with Aaron’s choice. Most of the time, Dars was vicious and overconfident. And a great fighter. And he was the one provoking Elena the most, pecking at her, letting her know that she was in no way a match for the likes of him. She was convinced he would show off, and that he would try to make her eat dust. The smirk on his face told her he was looking forward to kicking her butt. Without being punished for it.
Elena took a deep breath and forced her hand to loosen the constrained grip on her trak. She has to be vigilant. She has to think, dodge, and parry. She must hold on to her trak, not to let him knock it out of her hands. She has to keep the ground under her feet; she has to inflict five blows.
From the stands the king was looking down at his children. It was a surprise to him that his wife, queen Ashka, had not said a word against this fight.
He had expected her to be afraid for her daughter and to protest vehemently. The queen gave him a reproachful look, but said nothing. He would have been a lot happier had she just yelled at him.
“It will be quick. I just hope Dars doesn’t batter her too much,” he voiced his concern, maybe even trying to apologize.
“You should have considered that earlier, but you may well be surprised,” she replied, his astonished look amusing her.
“Elena’s petite and has never fought. Dars is bigger, stronger, and a good fighter. He won’t have a problem beating her.”
“A girl, right? Hold your judgment till the fight is over, my lord.” She gave him a smile, but her voice was icy. Had her tone not warned him, her calling him my lord definitely would have.
The princess really wanted to prove her worthiness to stand on the training ground, side by side with her brothers and all the other boys. If it meant getting her butt kicked by Dars, so be it. As long as she did not make a fool of herself and, most of all, disgrace her father or disappoint her mother. This is going to hurt! Let’s get it over with! She advanced, lifting her trak slightly off the ground, moving it smoothly backwards touching the small of her back with it, while her left hand shifted to her right shoulder. She bowed. Dars copied her movement quickly, slightly abashed she was the one to start the duel. One moment both traks were behind the children’s backs, and in the next they flicked up into defensive positions. Both warriors, if we can call them that, circled, sizing each other up.
Elena attacked. The first blow seemed strangely slow to her. Letting go of the trak with her left hand and whipping it with her right, she drew a circle with the staff at face height. She brought it down to hit her brother’s left side. The strike surprised him, but his reaction was fast. His trak flew towards hers. Several fast, violent blows, staff against staff, followed. Dars gathered speed. Elena soon found herself on the defensive, but fended off his attacks with surprising ease.
The Witch (Dragon Eyes Book 1) Page 1