Knight of Light

Home > Other > Knight of Light > Page 8
Knight of Light Page 8

by Deirdra Eden


  I lay low in the brush. Each thud of my heart was like a mallet pounding a stake, fastening me to the ground until I couldn’t move at all.

  The pack strode toward me. The wolves’ large claws hit against the stones. Even if I could have moved, there was nowhere to run.

  Lightning struck a nearby tree. Deadly screams from a whip of lightning echoed in the night. The tree crashed to the earth, its mighty branches snapped like twigs. The ground shook, making the pebbles at my feet bounce.

  The piercing gaze of the alpha wolf met mine and flashed with hunger.

  “No,” I stammered and held up my hand uselessly. The wolves bounded forward in unison. My eyes snapped shut, and my body curled in a ball.

  “Go, Auriella!” Ruburt shouted. He and his pony appeared out of the mist. The small, golden animal reared up, momentarily blocking the wolves’ path.

  There was no way that Ruburt was going to be able to defend himself against three Shadow Wolves. I clenched my fists, unbound my curled body and leaped up. I ignored all my pain as conviction filled my heart, and fire burst from my hands and up my arms like torches. Hot golden flames enveloped my body. I took a stance and tossed an erratic stream of fire in the wolves’ direction.

  Ruburt fell from his horse and covered his eyes to protect them from the blinding burst of energy.

  The inferno consumed the alpha wolf. The shadow of a man emerged from the wolf’s carcass, screamed, and clawed at his featureless face as he disintegrated into ash.

  Fire whirled around me in streams of sparkling, gold waves. The wolves slunk back into the shrouded darkness of the valley. I raised my hands to attack again. The fire extinguished, and my body collapsed, hitting the earth. I lifted my heavy eyelids. I didn’t have the strength to stand.

  Ruburt crawled toward me. “Auriella?” his voice sounded terrified. “Auriella, say something!”

  Cassi, who had been hiding in Ruburt’s beard, whimpered and pulled at her dark curls.

  I peered through my eyelashes, but couldn’t speak.

  Ruburt whirled around and pulled his dagger from the scabbard. “Stay away,” he shouted.

  A wolf stepped toward us. “Now, we know,” the wolf said in a low growl. “We’ve seen it with our own eyes. We will be back with weapons and an army.”

  Ruburt lunged forward with his dagger extended, splitting the wolf’s nose. Dark blood dripped from the muzzle of the beast. The wolf snapped at Ruburt, slammed his massive paw on the dwarf, and pinned him to the ground. Ruburt’s dagger flew from his hand and bounced toward the pond.

  “Ho! Who goes there?” A voice shouted. The ground quaked under me. I fought to find the strength to move.

  “We’ll return for the prize,” the wolf promised and fled into the fog.

  Three riders on horseback broke through the fog and pulled up on their reins. The horses stirred and stomped their hooves against the ground.

  “What’s going on?” one of the men asked. “We heard an explosion.”

  “I … I…” Ruburt stammered. “We were attacked by Shadow Wolves.”

  “Shadow Wolves?” the man questioned.

  “Yes, those beastly monsters you villagers call Black Shucks or Moddey Dhoo.”

  “Look, it’s a lady.” The one who spoke, the youngest of the riders, jumped from his horse and rushed toward me.

  “Is she alive, Alwaien?” A young man with dark hair and tanned skin asked a third man.

  Alwaien dismounted and leaned over me. “I don’t know. Fredrick, come look at her.”

  I desperately wished I had the strength to speak.

  Fredrick jumped effortlessly from his horse. All three young men leaned over me. Fredrick put his head to my chest. “She has a heartbeat. Quick, help me get her on the horse.”

  “She’s so beautiful,” the youngest of the three said. “It’s like she’s not even human.”

  I blinked, as if trying to shed blurry scales from my eyes and assessed the mysterious room. It was twice the size of Hazella’s cottage, and all four walls were made of warm gray stone. Curtains the color of sunflowers hung from several windows and wrapped around the poles rising from the head and foot of the bed I lay on. The bright room smelled as fresh as a spring morning.

  “Auriella, you’re awake!” Ruburt’s gentle voice echoed relief.

  “Where am I?” I brushed the heavy quilt with my fingertips and tried to rise and examine the room.

  Ruburt lifted his hands, stopping me. “You are in Oswestry.”

  My heart beat fiercely. The embarrassing début of being a barefooted, ragged, orphan in the new village was over—I’d slept through the whole thing. I lifted the covers and peered under. At least my ragged nightgown still covered my naked body. What a relief.

  Dizziness overcame me, and I lay on the white downy pillows, forcing my eyes to stay open as I examined the splendid room of sunshine.

  Cassi poked her head out of Ruburt’s beard and exclaimed, “Cassi so happy to see Auriella!”

  “You stay hidden, Cassi,” Ruburt commanded in a fatherly tone, “unless you want to end up in a cage again.”

  “How did I get here?” I asked.

  “Lady Hannah’s sons heard the wolves and rescued us. Lady Hannah gave us both rooms to stay in while you recover, but we’ll need to move on quickly. Two wolves got away. As soon as they return to the Legion and report our whereabouts, this place will be swarming with rebels.”

  I sat up. “Will the people here be in danger? I don’t want someone hurt because of me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ruburt said. “We need to make sure you’re safe before the Legion invades.”

  This was all my fault. People could be killed because of me. “But—”

  The door to my room snapped opened.

  My heart leaped in my chest, I clenched my teeth and gripped my blankets. Ruburt put his hand over his dagger.

  A woman entered, carrying a bowl of hot soup. Her step was lively. Neatly combed blonde hair framed her fair, clean face. Her dress smelled like lavender, and her shoes were polished to a shine. Even her teeth and fingernails were pristine. I never imagined a person could look so heavenly.

  “Good morning. My name is Leah. I am Lady Hannah’s nurse.”

  Leah brushed back my hair and placed a soft hand on my forehead. “You are still too warm. It’s like you have been on fire.”

  I bit my lip—if they only knew.

  “Lady Hannah asked me to make sure you are cared for. Is it all right if I see where you are hurt?”

  I hesitated. There would be too many uncomfortable questions if Leah saw the scars on my back. To my relief, she pointed to my ankle. I lifted my ankle and nodded my consent. I noticed something about Leah I had not seen in any other human—her smile. Her smile could light a room and make any winter warm.

  Leah unwrapped the bandage that had been tied around my ankle. “Your ankle is not broken, but you shouldn’t run or jump until next week.”

  Leah rebound my ankle, then paused, asking gently, “How did you get the marks on your back?”

  My fingers sank into the quilt, gripping it tightly. They must have noticed my back while I was passed out. How do you explain that a crazy, old witch captured you and tortured you to find out your power so she would know how valuable of a bargaining chip you were in negotiations with the Shadow Legion? If the people of this village knew about my power, would they do the same? Or would they also think I was a witch and try to boil me alive?

  Leah lifted my chin. “It’s all right. No one here is going to hurt you. It must have happened a long time ago. The marks have healed well.”

  Every time I used my power, it seemed to heal my flesh. I squinted at my ankle. Apparently, the healing fire didn’t work on internal injuries.

  “Lady Hannah wants to see you when you are stronger and can get around easier. I will return later this evening with dinner and to see if your fever has broken.” Leah curtsied and closed the door behind her as she left.

/>   “Wow, she is so lovely,” I said in amazement.

  “That’s what I thought, too.” Ruburt chuckled, and his cheeks grew bright.

  “I hope there are more people like her in this village.” I looked at my generous portion of pea soup, and slowly brought a spoonful of the savory soup to my mouth. Just the smell made me feel better, and the taste was divine.

  While the soup was a wonderful start, it took a few more days before I recovered from my weakened condition. Leah visited me often, and each time she brought larger portions of food. One day, Leah brought beef stew with potatoes and a roll smothered in butter. Leah sat with me as I ate.

  “Are there many people in this village?” I asked her.

  “Yes, this is one of the largest towns united under the English flag,” Leah answered. “Lady Hannah has a son who is fifteen. He planned to wait a few years before he started looking for a wife, but after he saw you, he’s reconsidering his decision.”

  I cringed. How could anyone find me appealing in this condition? The son of nobility, no matter how undesirable in appearance or manner, would have better prospects than a beaten orphan girl.

  “I’m sorry,” Leah gasped. “You must already be betrothed?”

  “No, I’m not.” My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “But I’m only fourteen.” I took deep breaths to calm my nerves so the fire wouldn’t combust from my fingers.

  “I see,” Leah sounded disappointed. “Then we must return you to your parents.”

  “I don’t have any parents.” I shook my head. “They died when I was young.”

  “You poor thing.” Leah doted over me and patted my hand. “Feel free to make yourself at home until your meeting with Lady Hannah. She will help you get to where you need to go. You seem well enough to walk, and getting out of this cramped room will do you some good.”

  Cramped? My room was massive! If Leah thought this was tight quarters, what did the rest of the manor look like?

  I took Leah’s suggestion and explored the manor that afternoon. Burning torches, intricate tapestries, and portraits hung on the labyrinth hallways of stone. I turned a corner and followed the sound of excited voices chattering. The aroma of food mixed with other unknown scents tantalized my senses.

  I followed the smells and sounds to a large room. The room had a massive fireplace with a huge glazed roast turning above the flames. Many women, busy as bees, prepared food on long wooden tables. They wore their hair in tight buns and crisp aprons covered their long skirts. The sleeves on their billowing shirts were scrunched to their elbows. I had never seen so many people in one place before, but somehow the room looked organized as they all worked together.

  One of the women glanced at me and gasped. “Oh girls! Look who has come to join us.” They rushed toward me at once like a stampede.

  I retreated against the wall.

  “Do not be afraid, dearie. We won’t hurt you,” a cook said.

  I searched their plump, beaming faces. They were excited, but not angry. Their smiles were warm and genuine, not malicious like Hazella’s when she was scheming.

  A woman took my hand and led me into the kitchen. “Well, just look at this beautiful young lady. Have you ever seen anything more precious in your life?”

  “Or so dirty?” another woman added and wrinkled her nose.

  They fussed over my appearance, saying to each other:

  “Look at that tangled hair and those tattered clothes.”

  “Such dirty feet!”

  “What a gorgeous face.”

  “There’s something unusual about her,” one of them added, suspiciously.

  I held my breath. What if they noticed something alien about me … something not human?

  “Look at her snowy white skin and flaming red hair. Her soft, innocent beauty seems too … exotic.”

  They all eyed me.

  The game was over. They weren’t going to buy that I was human.

  “Do you think she’s from Ireland?”

  “Nonsense,” the head cook cut in. “Just because she’s filthy, doesn’t mean she’s a barbarian. We need to get her a good hot bath. Oh, and we better take her to the seamstress to get her some new clothes to wear. Jacquine has wanted to make some clothes for a young lady for as long as I can remember. This might be her only chance since Lady Hannah only has sons.”

  The women giggled in chorus.

  A few of them whisked me out of the warm kitchen and marched me up a flight of stairs. One of the cooks opened the door and called out, “Oh, Jacquine, look what we have found!”

  Jacquine stopped her sewing when I entered the room. Jacquine was as beautiful as the fairy queen. She wore her wavy black hair in a loose bun. She was not as heavy as the cooks, but much taller.

  “Oh my!” Jacquine gasped in delight and approached me with her hands clasped. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” A few wrinkles appeared around her eyes when she smiled.

  I lowered my head to let my hair cover my face. My cheeks grew hot.

  “We were hoping you could make Auriella something suitable to wear.” The head cook motioned toward the ragged nightgown. “This is all she has.”

  “Oh!” Shame rang in Jacquine’s voice. “We can’t have her wearing that.” Jacquine opened one chest after another, before opening the closet doors. Cloth of every imaginable color filled each chest and shelf. The stunning colors combined with the light from the stained glass window, sending a kaleidoscope of rainbows dancing through the room. “Which color would you like?” Jacquine asked.

  I stood in awe, looking around the rainbow room. One color stood out from all the others. I pointed to the color I thought most represented freedom and my new life in Oswestry. It was the color of a clear, summer sky.

  “Oh, the lass likes blue,” one of the cooks cooed.

  Jacquine proceeded to pull numerous other colors of fabric out of the closets and placed them with the blue cloth in a pile on her sewing bench. “Let me get your measurements now, dearie.”

  Jacquine wrapped the string around my waist. “Oh my, look how skinny you are!”

  The cooks wagged their heads.

  The head cook held up a finger. “Apple cobbler?”

  “That’s just what she needs.” Jacquine agreed.

  The cooks rushed down the hall, chattering about fancy foods that would fatten me up.

  Was Jacquine really going to make me new clothes? “I’m not anyone important,” I politely reminded. “I can make do.” I had never worn a new dress before and felt guilty at the thought of owning such a thing.

  Jacquine started measuring my arm length and shoulder width. “No, dear, you are not dressing like a homeless orphan child.”

  I swallowed too quickly and coughed.

  “Oh goodness,” Jacquine stopped measuring. “Don’t tell me you are an orphan.”

  I nodded.

  “It’s a good thing you found your way here.” Jacquine continued to measure. “Until you find a place to stay, all of us will look after you.”

  Jacquine marked the string with several straight pins and finished her measuring. “There now, we must get you cleaned before you get into your new clothes.”

  Clean. I couldn’t wait. After everything I’d been through, washing my hands and face would help me feel human again. I sighed at that thought, knowing it wasn’t completely accurate. The only thing that would truly help me feel human again would be to meet with Woldor, the Neviahan historian. He would settle the misunderstanding, or at least help me stop my internal inferno so I could be normal.

 

‹ Prev