Cursed

by Casey Odell

  A shiver went down her spine. “What’s in there?”

  He shrugged. “No one knows.” His eyes narrowed. “No one’s ever made it out.”

  Claire gazed out at the field. It seemed so peaceful.

  Farron started to chuckle, softly at first until it grew into a full out laugh. Her shoulders slumped and the dread in her body faded. She rolled her eyes and glared at the elf who was doubled over in laughter. She rose to her feet and marched to him, fists balled in rage.

  “Do you enjoy torturing me?” She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks in embarrassment.

  “There is a certain amount of enjoyment, yes.” He smiled up at her. “Although the story is true.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Then why are you laughing?”

  “Your face was so serious. You looked like a child listening to a ghost story.”

  “You’re lucky I don’t throw you in.” She crossed her arms so she wouldn’t lash out at him. Yes, insufferable. Why did she even bother talking to him?

  “But seriously.” The amusement faded from his face. “This place is haunted.” He picked up a stone and threw it into the field.

  “But I thought magic disappeared.” She sat down and wrapped her arms around her knees again.

  “It didn’t disappear. There is still magic in the world. Most of it was just…” He glanced at the mark on her wrist before looking up at her. Every hint of laughter and amusement abandoned his face. “It was just hidden from us.”

  She stared up at him and her eyes narrowed. “What did you do before the forest?” She had a feeling that he knew a lot more than he let on. “Why would you choose to close yourself off from the rest of the world?”

  There was a moment of silence. He stared back at her, eyes emotionless, not revealing anything. Then a smirk crossed his lips and he looked away.

  “My lady, I think you already know what I did before I entered the forest.”

  It took her a moment. “Ha! If you were a man for hire, you’d have starved long ago!” It was her turn to laugh. “Fine.” She sobered up. “That’s fine. I’ll get it out of you one of these days.”

  He looked down at her, skeptical. “What makes you so sure?”

  Claire shrugged. “That’s fine too. I’m sure I’d rather not know anyway.”

  Farron turned back towards the field as he laughed softly.

  She stared out at the great expanse. After a while she said, “My mom pulled me out of school when I was nine. Most girls in my town stop going around that age anyway. Why didn’t she teach me about it? The Great War? She taught me everything else, how to read, how to run a business, how to cook.”

  “Maybe she didn’t want you to know.” His voice was solemn, serious.

  She looked at him, about to ask him why, when he recovered with a shrug.

  “It was a hard time. Not something many people want to remember. Maybe she wanted you to start fresh, free of the feelings of hate.”

  She mulled that over for a bit. It was possible, his answer. But it just didn’t seem like her mother to do that. She felt it was important to be well educated, especially for a woman. Then why omit something so important?

  With a sigh, she tossed another rock into the field and watched the ripples form and then fade again.

  A curse. How sad for those souls to be stuck in such a place, never to be reunited with their loved ones. Would that happen to her? Would she ever find her mother? A pain struck through her chest as she imagined her mother somewhere alone and scared. Well, maybe not scared. Was she searching for her as well? She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on her knees. Must not think like that.

  “Hey,” Farron said.

  She felt his hand rest lightly on her head. Jerked her out of her thoughts, she looked up at him.

  “Are you alright?” There it was. A flash of worry in his eyes. She had seen it earlier in the day and like lightning, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, disappearing beneath his careful mask.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” So the elf was capable of more than two emotions.

  “Good.” He leaned closer and pointed his finger in her face like a parent scolding a child. “It’s not good to cry around such a cursed place. You’ll attract evil souls.”

  “Alright.” Claire knocked his hand away and stood up. “Now who’s being childish? I’m starting to think you brought me up here just to make fun of me.”

  “I figured you could use a distraction.” His expression grew more serious and he looked out over the field again.

  She stood silent for a moment. “Thank you. For earlier, I mean.” She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “I shouldn’t have wandered away in the first place.”

  “Everyone has a weakness. Curiosity just happens to be yours.”

  “Did you know that village was there?” She stepped closer to him, wanting him to look back at her.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know it had been attacked?”

  He paused to consider his answer. “I saw the smoke earlier.”

  “Did you not want me to see it?” Her voice grew soft.

  “My lady, some things are best left unknown. There’s nothing we could have done for them anyway.” He finally looked up at her, eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “Did you honestly feel any better after seeing what you did?”

  It was her turn to look away. “No. But I’m tired of running away. I feel like I have to do something, even if it’s just finding out the truth.” She turned to look back at the elf. “I’m not saying I can save anyone, nor do I have the power to stop the attacks. I can only do what I can do. I’m not going run away anymore.”

  Farron buried his face in his hands. Was he laughing? She was being serious.

  After a moment he peered up at her, then looked quickly away. His eyes seemed sad. Well, at least he wasn’t laughing.

  “That makes you stronger than me, my lady.” He glanced back at her. “Perhaps you’ve grown up a little.”

  Claire put her hands on her hips and straightened her back. “I told you I’d show you.”

  “I said a little.”

  “Too late, you already said it.” She pointed at him.

  He brushed her hand away. “Never mind, I take it back.”

  “Still counts though.” Claire smiled broadly. She was going to rub it in as much as she could.

  “It must have been a lapse in judgment.”

  “I think I’ll tell Aeron.” She looked up at the sky and feigned a faraway look in her eyes.

  Farron laughed, but it was soon replaced by a mischievous grin. “And I’m sure Aeron would love to hear that you are afraid of evil spirits.”

  Claire gulped. “My lips are sealed.” The thought of giving Aeron yet another excuse to tease her was enough to keep her quiet. “By the way, you found out one of my weaknesses, what about yours?”

  “Why beautiful women, of course,” he stated, pleased with himself.

  Well, that was unexpected. She figured he’d say weapons or awful snacks.

  “Miss Claire!” Bren’s voice called out from the trees.

  Every muscle in her body tensed. She couldn’t let him find her with the elf if she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea again. She glanced up at Farron and her cheeks flushed.

  The arrogant mask slipped into place, the amusement in his face disappearing. “Your prince is calling for you, my lady.”

  Heat spread across her entire face. Had he heard her and Aeron earlier? She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Impossible. Bren called again, his voice drawing nearer.

  “I should have him teach you some manners.”

  She spun around and walked back to the ledge she had climbed, sat down and swung her legs over the edge. She lowered herself slowly down the side of the bluff, testing the rocks with her foot before she stepped on them. The climb down had been easier than she’d thought. Anger worked wonders on fear.

  Quickly, she slipped the purple shirt on and the dagger back around her wai
st, and tucked the wooden blade neatly back under the belt. She ran her fingers through her hair and started to make her way back through the trees. Her heart beat faster in her chest. Was that from the climb down, or due to the General?

  “There you are, Miss Claire.” Bren’s smile lightened her mood as soon as it flashed across his handsome face. The brown cloak was absent from his shoulders. He still looked anything but ordinary, even in the muted plain clothes he wore. The golden hilt of his sword glimmered at his waist in the shrinking light. “I got worried when you didn’t come back to the camp.”

  Her stomach filled with butterflies. “That’s very considerate of you, General.” She curtsied. His charming personality was a breath of fresh air after dealing with that damn elf. Her nerves relaxed a little but she still had to keep up her appearance as Lady Claire DuBonte. Just another layer of stress to add to the growing pile.

  “I also wanted to apologize for earlier. I should have been more considerate to the situation and how you were feeling,” he said.

  “No, I should be the one to apologize.”

  He looked at her, surprised.

  “I shouldn’t have blamed you for what happened.” She smoothed her hands down her shirt and adjusted the belt around her hips.

  Bren took her hand in both of his. Grey eyes gazed down at her. “I will try to do everything in my power to help stop attacks like the one on that village.”

  Claire swallowed hard. “Thank you. But please don’t feel like you have to do anything on my behalf.”

  “I have to do it for somebody.” He gave her a hopeful look.

  She looked down, embarrassed. What could a girl say to that?

  “Come.” Bren offered her his arm. “We should get back to the camp before it gets dark out.”

  Claire took his arm. What a gentleman, even out in the middle the forest. She let him lead her back to the campfire, her stomach aflutter the whole way. He’d asked her how her practice had gone and even said he’d like to show her a few moves himself. If she wouldn’t mind, of course.

  She definitely wouldn’t mind. Not one bit.

  13

  “Again!” Bren shouted.

  Claire raised the wooden sword in front of her as she charged at the General and swung it down at him. He blocked with the practice blade he’d borrowed from Aeron, sending a shock down her arm as they clashed. Quickly, she swung again but he blocked with ease as he evaded, knocking her sword away with his and brought the point up to her chin. Claire froze. Not again.

  “You lose once more, my lady.” Bren’s eyes sparkled in amusement.

  She let out deep sigh as he lowered the fake weapon. They’d been practicing in the clearing for a little over an hour. Even though he was a gentleman, he wouldn’t let her win. Not even once. She wouldn’t learn if he did-- according to him, anyway.

  “How about a break?” she asked. All this losing wasn’t good for her confidence.

  “I suppose.” He followed her to where their things lay on top of a fallen tree. “You know, when I trained, my teacher wouldn’t give me any breaks. Warriors don’t need breaks, he would say.”

  Claire looked up at him and took a swig of water from a small flask. He’d joined the army as a young boy after he lost his parents to the red pox, rose through the ranks and eventually became an officer in the royal court. That was when he’d met Prince Philip, and according to him, the two became fast friends, spending hours sparring together. A detail she’d found particularly interesting. Aeron had given up trying to keep her away from Bren. Maybe he felt bad for her? Whatever the reason, she was grateful that he’d finally eased up a little. All afternoon the General had entertained her with stories of his past and the city of Lendon. He’d just recently been appointed the title of General after the position had suddenly become… available, as he so eloquently put it. He wanted to spare her the gruesome details.

  “You forget, General. I am a lady, not a warrior.”

  “Of course, Miss Claire.” He smiled at her. “That could explain why you keep losing.”

  She glared up at him. She hadn’t expected that from him. Was she that easy of a target? “Were you this harsh on the prince?”

  “Philip was always an adept opponent. He has a particular knack for fighting, a mind for it really. Something his father was never fond of.”

  “Maybe King Harold wanted peace. Perhaps he just wanted to instill that into his son before he, uh…went.”

  “This is true,” Bren nodded. “But there is nothing wrong with wanting to learn how to fight, to strategize, to defend your kingdom. A king that doesn’t know how to fight, will not remain a king for long. Sooner or later someone will try and take your kingdom. The elves learned that the hard way.”

  Claire stared at him for a moment, studying him. Perhaps there was more to this man than meets the eye. To reach the honor of General at such a young age, there had to be. He couldn’t have just charmed his way to the top, though that was what she liked to believe. “Are you saying that I don’t have a knack for it, General?” she asked, bringing the topic back to the present to lighten the mood.

  Bren laughed. “I do have to admit that you give it your all. You definitely have spirit.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have years of training already.” She put her hands on her hips.

  “It’s not only that you lack training, but you just charge at me without thinking. There’s more to sword fighting than strength and speed. If you don’t have a plan or some sort of strategy, you’re as good as dead.”

  Claire relaxed, the irritation draining from her body. Well, now that he put it that way… Her hands fell from her hips as her shoulders drooped slightly. She certainly had a knack for being scolded, though.

  “Isn’t that right, Farron?”

  Claire’s attention snapped up to the General and she followed his gaze across the clearing. Farron leaned against a tree as if he’d been there all along. She could feel the irritation start in her stomach again. He’d avoided her the past few days, ever since the cursed field, and she’d tried her best to ignore the elf. What did he want now?

  “I think strategy is a foreign concept to my lady,” he stated bluntly, as if it were a fact.

  Heat spread over her, all the way up to her cheeks. She marched to the elf, fighting every instinct inside of her not to lunge at him. A million unpleasant phrases came to her mind, but she had to remember to be a lady. The General was present, after all.

  “All right, if you’re so tough, why don’t you show me what you’ve got?” she challenged him.

  “I don’t think that is such a good idea, my lady.” A smirk slid into place as he crossed his arms.

  “Actually, it could be good for her to watch a friendly match.”

  Farron shot an unfriendly glance in Bren’s direction. “I definitely don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  Claire could hear Bren chuckle behind her.

  “You’re not afraid, are you? I’m rather curious to see how the elves fight.”

  The cold undertone in Bren’s voice made her look back at him, but his expression remained pleasant. Maybe she’d imagined it, although the tension in the surrounding air rose sharply. That wasn’t good. Men and their pride.

  “Alright. Let’s see how good you really are, General.” His eyes had a sparkle in them. Definitely not good.

  “Look, I was just kidding…” Claire began to protest, but it was too late.

  Farron brushed past her, his right hand reaching past his shoulder to grip the hilt of one of the daggers strapped on his back. Her eyes grew wide. Should they use real blades?

  Bren laughed nervously at the approaching elf with his hands held up in front of him. “Perhaps we should use the other kind.”

  Farron paused, his hand hesitating on the handle. Then he shrugged and dropped his hand. Claire let out a breath at the same time, tense muscles relaxing. Well, that was a relief at least.

  Bren handed Claire’s sword to the elf. Far
ron took it and started to test it out, swinging it around lightly.

  “Now watch carefully, Miss Claire.” Bren bowed to the elf.

  Farron just stood there, waiting for the General to begin.

  This wasn’t going to end well. She had a feeling. It seemed like her woman’s intuition was finally kicking in. She backed up to the edge of the small clearing. There was no stopping it now, so she might as well enjoy the show.

  The two pride filled males stood in the middle of the clearing. The forest around them had grown painfully quiet. Bren held his weapon up in front of him, both hands gripping the hilt. Farron still just stood there, sword hanging limply at his side in his right hand. They stood motionless for a few moments to stare each other down and size up each other’s egos. She hadn’t thought Bren had an ego, but she’d forgotten that every male had one. And Bren was no exception, no matter how charming he seemed to be.

  Claire glanced between the two of them and waited for one of them to make a move. So, this was strategy. Exciting so far…

  “Now, I want you to charge at me, like Miss Claire would,” Bren told the elf and held his blade out in front of him in defense.

  Farron gave a short laugh. Claire crossed her arms. What was so funny?

  “With pleasure.” Farron lunged forward suddenly and stabbed at the General.

  Bren blocked Farron’s attack, evaded to the left and swung his sword at the elf. Farron dropped to his knee underneath the horizontal slash of the General’s weapon, then drove his up towards Bren’s chest, slipping past the General’s defense.

  Bren leaped backwards, his eyes wide with surprise as he smacked Farron’s blade away with his. He backed up a few steps as the elf rose to his feet.

  Claire tensed. Something didn’t seem right. Farron smirked at the General as he brought the sword up and pointed it at the other man.

  “You got me,” Bren said, and the laughter faded from his face.