Dare to Defy (4 page)

“You old, sour…”

“Take this
boy
from my sight and escort him and his men from these grounds. Keep watch that they fully depart and make no trouble for our country or our people,” Rufus demanded. “Summon the watch commanders and give them notice that these men are not permitted within the sight of a raven. Be gone with you!”

Ilesbet sat silently, carefully observing the activities. She feared for her father-in-law and her family, and she clutched her prayer beads tightly as the angry man was forcefully escorted outside the castle walls. She stood slowly and walked to where Rufus sat, his fist balled tightly as he fought to regain his peace.

“Father?” Ilesbet said, her hand gently touching his. “I fear for Daynel’s safety. He will not let her leave so easily. He now has vengeance he will wish to seek against you and our family.”

“Yes, my sweet daughter, I fear your words ring true,” Rufus sighed, squeezing her hand lovingly. “My son found a wise wife in you. Do you have a strategy in mind to share?”

“I do, Your Grace. A decoy. He believes women to be dimwitted and soft in the head. He will not believe Daynel capable of caring for herself and that she would head in the direction of the most comfort during her time of need. Let us send ravens out with false messages to lead him in a direction he would believe her to go. To her mother’s home in the west.”

“Gather paper and ink and I will pen them myself. And you, please…Pray for my child. Whatever you say to the dragon gods, please do so in her behalf.”

“I already am doing so. With all my heart. She is as a daughter to me as well.” Ilesbet bowed her head as he kissed her temple. “I also know that the dragon warrior will wrap his wings of protection about her. She wears the fang and it glows brightly next to her skin.”

“I am unaware of your religious signs, my dear,” Rufus said kindly, “but I welcome any encouragement you might have. What does this mean?”

“It means, Father,” Ilesbet looked to the sky, “that the dragon gods have chosen her to do their bidding. They will see her safe.”

King Rufus sighed. “I never thought I would see the day that I would pity the gods. I hope they know what they are in for if they wish Daynel to cooperate with them.”

Temper roused, tainted with anger and humiliation, Ethan withdrew his sword from the heart of a western farmer who had offered the use of his well for the soldier’s refreshment. The snarling man watched as the body slid to the ground and then glared at the silent soldiers around him.

“Find a way to backtrack and find where she has gone. I want her brought to me, intact. I intend to have my way with her before she meets my sword for shaming me.”

“Do you intend to pierce her with both your swords, Your Highness?” his personal guard asked jovially. Ethan eyed him with a half-smile. “Aye, that I do. I only have need of that cunt first to satisfy the conditions of my royal father for an heir and gain my place on the throne. After she bears a child, perhaps I might offer her up to the men who find her to use afterward.”

“That is an excellent incentive for the men to hurry their search. If I may be excused so that I might get started for you, my prince?”

“Go, and have someone bring me food and wine. Surely this farm has more than old eggs and a sow,” he said, distastefully staring at the farmer’s wife who was being ravaged unmercifully by several old soldiers. He strolled over to her abused, naked body and laughed in her face as she mumbled the words to an ancient prayer.

“The gods aren’t going to do you any good, old woman. So don’t waste your time praying to them,” he said mockingly as he ran the edge of his blade across her throat. Wiping it off on the carcass of her husband, he again demanded food and wine.

* * *

Daynel slowly opened her eyes to the glint of early morning sunlight as it washed across the horizon. She had been riding for nearly a week, sleeping in the saddle and only dismounting to relieve herself. The horse seemed never to tire, conditioned to ride for long periods while burdened with heavy armor and an immense rider. He slowed his gallop as needed to feed, drink, and sleep, seemingly urged on by an unknown force that gave the animal strength to continue to his destination. Sometime during the sixth night, Firestar had slowed his course and stopped on the edge of a tinkling stream that was housed by a gazebo of bent trees. It was here that he bent his knees and snorted for her to dismount.

The woman was grateful that her body was used to spending hours on horseback, for she could not begin to imagine the aches that she would be enduring otherwise. She slid to the mossy ground and groaned, reaching to rub the cramped muscles of her shoulders and neck. Firestar slowly lifted himself to his feet and began to graze contentedly upon the tender grass. After dunking her head under the cold water of the stream and satisfying her thirst, Daynel dug through the saddlebag and removed the last chunk of hard cheese and a wineskin.

“Nothing like being prepared, huh?” she said, smiling as she removed a tiny metal box in which burned a small coal. She quickly made a small fire, careful to hide the smoke from view, and melted the cheese upon the tip of her narrow dagger. “This is really a cruel joke,” she commented to the horse. “I hate cheese. More now than I ever had.”

“Then you don’t mind if I offer you better fare?” a low voice asked from behind her. Daynel jumped to her feet, her short sword aimed unwavering at the stranger’s throat. He raised his hand.

“No fear, child. I am not a threat. See? Even the grand warhorse pays me no mind.”

Mouth hanging open, Daynel glanced at Firestar, who unhurriedly chomped upon the vegetation on the stream bank. It was almost as though the animal did not even notice the man’s presence.

“Who are you and what do you want of me?” the woman demanded fearlessly, stepping away from the tall, lanky form. He removed his hood, revealing a shaggy mass of curly brown hair and a scraggly, unkempt beard. His smile revealed white, even teeth.

“I am sent to guide you, child. The gods have called for me.”

“Your name, stranger! And I believe not in the gods.”

“Your belief neither makes something the truth or a falsehood. Lower your sword and join me.”

“I am no fool. I do not give away my safety to a stranger who happens upon me when my life is being threatened.”

“She was correct. Indeed, you are a stubborn girl. I am to show you this.”

He reached out his hand and turned it that his fingers opened to reveal his palm. Upon the surface was a tattoo. Daynel frowned, leaning in to stare at the three intertwined triangles surrounded by a circle.

“That is Günter’s signet! How…”

“As you know, his wife, Ilesbet, is the priestess to the people of The Dragon. Her faith has protected your family for many years and today she has sent me to ensure your safety.”

“And should I refuse?” Daynel asked suspiciously, still bothered by Firestar’s lack of interest in the stranger’s presence. The horse should have pounded the stranger to shreds with his iron-covered hooves by now.

“I am a very patient man, Princess, but I am also a soldier of my faith. I have been commanded to guard and protect you and that I shall do. With, or without, your cooperation. The priestess instructed me to use whatever means required to keep you safe, even from your own pride. I am prepared to do so.”

Daynel glared at him, following his dark brown stare as he stood far above her height and looked down upon her lithe form. The intent in his eyes remained unchanged as he felt the tip of her weapon against his breastbone. Daynel swallowed nervously. Except for her brother, she had never faced an opponent who had no fear of her sword.

“Plunge that into my heart if you can, child. The Eye protects me as it also guides you. As long as the Eye stays intact, that weapon cannot harm a follower of the faith.”

“I don’t believe in senseless killing anyway,” Daynel faltered, feeling her hand begin to shake.

He smiled gently and lifted his hand to the blade, slowly pressing it downward. He then loosened her clutch from the pommel before he slid the sword back into the scabbard. The man then brushed his tattooed hand over the swell of her right cheek and cupped her face softly.

“You are safe, little princess. We still have much traveling to do, but can take rest for this night. Now eat heartily. Your feast awaits you.”

“Feast? I would hardly call hard yellow cheese a feast. It’s…” Daynel’s eyes opened wide as she beheld a basket filled with warm, crusty bread, a wooden bowl of roasted quail in steaming hot broth, and slabs of melon and soft white cheese upon a platter. “Where did this come from?”

“Faith, child. All that one requires is first born of faith. See? Even your steed eats tender shoots in peace.”

“Have you bewitched my horse? What kind of dark magic is this?” Daynel shouted, pulling away and brandishing her sword once again in fear.

“This is your first lesson, the acknowledgement that dark magic exists. In doing so, you also acknowledge the presence of white magic. I have no time to continue this discussion. Evil pursues you and we must make haste. Eat, sleep, and then we begin our journey.”

“Where?” Daynel demanded, trying to ignore the complaints of hunger her stomach issued as the smell of the food wafted through the sweet air.

“The priestess has commanded that I take you to the Forests of Hiding. There, you will stay until the threat upon you is either eliminated or detoured.”

Daynel felt her heart clutch in her chest. No one who ventured into the Forests of Hiding had ever returned. The hooded man frowned again, pointing at the food.

“You will eat now, Princess. And put away your toy. You are wearing my patience thin.”

“My ‘toy’ can easily slice through your throat, Eye or no Eye on its pommel. I do not eat with one whom I don’t even know a name. Folklore has it that if you share a meal with a stranger, that stranger will kill you in your sleep.”

“That same wives tale also states that little girls who dare to defy the ones placed in charge of their lives tend to suffer with very tender and warm back ends. I am given reason to understand that you are a recent recipient of such, yes?”

The man took her silence to mean her confirmation rather than humiliation, and he handed her a plate loaded with piping hot, fragrant food.

“It is well we have an understanding now, is it not? Go on,” he urged, nodding toward her plate, “you will find it quite good.”

Indeed she did. The hot food in her tummy filled her with a tingling warmth and comfort. A feeling much different also arose, growing into an ache that rested in the recesses of her womanhood. What caused that feeling to awaken? Was it the low resonance of his voice, the fear for her life? Or, perhaps the image of her backside being bared as she was thrust over his thighs? Whatever it was that urged the awakening, Daynel found herself wanting for more.

* * *

As Daynel’s mount trotted silently beside the cloaked man, her mind was filled with confusion, including the simple question as to where he had been hiding the tall chestnut mare and how Ilesbet had sent her instructions. The mare nuzzled against Firestar affectionately as they rode through the rays of the early morning sunlight, causing the magnificent animal to snort and sidestep to avoid her. The man chuckled, watching the interaction between the two and the glower upon Daynel’s dirt-smudged face.

“They often say that horse and their owners are much alike. See how your mount shirks the invitation to talk? He is as sullen as you are, Princess.”

“And as intelligent. He knows not to trust a stranger who will not even share a name.”

“Is that what is making you behave as though you have a thorn in your breeches?” he laughed, the sound echoing down the long, empty road.

“Amongst other things,” Daynel snarled, not about to tell this stranger that she had personal needs to attend to, and ones that did not invite an audience.

“Perhaps a warm bath and sleep will brighten your mood. We should arrive at our next site within the hour. You may rest there as long as you require.”

“What about being followed?”

“Perhaps it is time for your first lesson. Look upon your pommel, Daynel,” the man said softly, pulling his horse to halt. Daynel narrowed her eyes and drew out her sword. A gasp escaped her lips as a slight glow was seen through the purple stone set atop the hilt. A warm haze surrounded her face as she stared into the center slit. Daynel’s eyes widened as it blinked at her, no longer stone but an eye of a Living Being.

“We have entered the Forest of Hiding,” the man said with a smile. “Magic is pouring into the Eye and it will give you the ability to See. Meet its gaze and do not pull away.”

Günter had always said that Daynel possessed more curiosity than sense, and his words proved true at that moment when she defiantly locked her stare upon the Eye. Suddenly floods of images pierced her mind and she screamed, whipping her head away to break contact. It held her there, suspended in a whirlwind of images, voices, sensations. Time became an ancient memory as she was given Knowledge. Somewhere, her body stayed aware of the slender, warm hand upon her elbow that steadied her shaking. She felt herself being lifted and lowered to the ground. Something cool was held against her lips, accompanied by a soft, whispered word…
drink
.

“Shhh, slowly, child. Slowly. I am sorry. I did not know how to warn an unbeliever of the Eye’s power. Are you well?”

“What happened?” Daynel asked, lifting her hands to her forehead. “There are so many images, emotions, and sensations, and some are…” She suddenly reddened, halting her statement.

“The Eye chooses the ones to give Sight to. As for sensation, I have never heard of such an incident. Describe to me what you see and feel.”

“I…uh…I can’t remember,” Daynel lied. “How long was I gone from this earth? How many days have passed?”

“Your mind was absent for only a few seconds. Are you certain you cannot remember anything in particular that you had seen?

“It was too intertwined. I remember nothing clearly and am unable to describe. Let us go now. The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner I may sleep off this dreadful nightmare.”