Dare to Defy (7 page)

“I cannot…” the woman began to weep, unaware of the flowering garden around her.

“You must trust me. You carry our faith, and I carry our lives.”

An unearthly slap to her upturned left cheek pushed her through the Gates of the Heavens. Her body seemed to drift away through a sea of sensation until it was a distant memory hovering over an ocean of twinkling lights. She mused, knowing that the physical experience of life would always serve to remind her that the vision in the mind is truly an event upon the face of the earth. Her spirit drifted into a corridor that was lined with books, scrolls, and etchings. Like butterflies, several small scrolls flittered through the air and touched her mind, leaving the knowledge needed to understand the vision to be given. There was no sense of time as the sounds of tears, laughter, fear, and every other emotion known to mankind brushed against and through her heart. She would need these to explain the vision to those selected to hear. Finally, she stood before the beginning of time and bowed her heart, knowing that her gods were pleased and found her husband’s offering acceptable. An eye opened in her mind and poured Sight upon her.

* * *

Günter’s shoulder began to ache as he watched the bruises grow upon the hot flesh of his wife’s rump. One by one, he continued to spank her sharply, keeping her apart from the mortal world through the veil of pain. She stiffened beneath him, signaling that the time had come for the pain to stop. He slowly lowered his hand to gently rub the purple flesh. Her tears renewed as she came down from the tranquil state of being and pain found her body once again.

Ilesbet had once told him that being in the presence of the gods brought her to a state of true bliss, one that could not be compared to anything brought about in the real world. It was due to this perfect state of being that the gods had forbidden her to be pleasured until her full return to the present.
Hell be damned
, Günter thought as he reached between her thighs.
She is mine to do with as I please!
He found her wet and swollen, begging for relief. He plunged his finger into her, covering it with her slickness and then began to roll her protruding nub between his thumb and middle finger.

“No…you cannot…” Ilesbet whimpered, her body both limp with exhaustion and straining with excitement.

“You surrendered to me and the gods were pleased, were they not? You received the Sight?”

“Yes, but…ohhh…”

“Then they will also accept that I reward your surrender as I believe to be true. On your knees, Ilesbet. Bury your face in the flowers that grew from your tears,” Günter said hoarsely, quickly releasing his aching cock from his pants. It sprung forward, needing no guidance as he kneeled behind her bottom and sought the entrance to her womanhood. He buried his shaft deep inside of her with a single plunge, hearing her moans muffled by the soft, flowery cushion. Günter began to pump her with abandon, grabbing handfuls of flowers and crushing them over her naked skin as he filled her.

“Touch yourself. You serve the gods, but you give yourself only to me,” he grunted, his flower-stained fingers digging into her hips as he felt his body begin to become rigid with promised pleasure. Ilesbet obeyed, slinking her hand underneath her and feeling for the dripping wetness of her body. She pressed her bottom higher into the air, pushing to allow him deeper within as she encircled the hard button. Neither noticed the trees around them as they unfolded their branches and stretched to form a dark, impenetrable canopy, blocking off the wind, the sun, and the world from their passion. Ilesbet’s voice rose to meet the sound of her pleasure, joined by Günter’s low guttural growl. With them came a chorus of a thousand singing birds. Spent, Günter rested his body over that of his collapsed wife and rolled to join her on a mattress of soft petals and tender grass.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to meet his own. Dark amethyst to ice blue. A small smile met her lips as his hand traced her jaw.

“All will be well, my husband. I have seen the future. We need only to step aside now and wait.”

“Your pain? Why did the gods not remove it? Why did they have me take it to this color?” Günter asked with concern, tenderly touching the dark bruises on her posterior.

“Because I asked a favor of them. I promised to endure the color of the flowers born of my tears if they would grant me a daughter. She has been conceived this day and will take my place as priestess when she is grown.”

Günter drew her into his arms happily, cradling her head against his shoulder as he rolled to his back and viewed the clear sky. “The clouds were lined with purple as well. Was there meaning to that?”

Ilesbet lifted her head to look at him with excitement. “Truly? We were shown the color in the clouds as well? The gods will also grant us with another son! Twins!”

“I still do not like these bruises that you carry. Would it have been a phlox or even a poppy, I would not carry this concern. You sacrifice too much.”

“Your sacrifice was just as great, having to take me to this place. But we are being gifted with the promise of a safe and prosperous future for our children.”

“Ilesbet…when you said we were not to interfere now. Does this mean that I cannot hunt down this man before more harm is caused?”

“I fear that it means exactly that. More people will be killed, and many more lives shattered before he is brought to his knees before the gods. But have faith that it will happen as it should and when it should. Anything that alters the path can end up in destroying the promise.”

“Will Daynel be hurt?”

“Yes. But,” Ilesbet rested her finger over his lips, “she will not suffer harm. Trust me.”

“I do. I must,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head. “I have no choice.”

Baldric looked over his shoulder nervously, sensing that unfriendly eyes were upon them. They had traveled for hours beyond the trail after discovering the path had been littered by a large rockslide. The detour had taken them outside the protection of the forest and left them visible to all. Including those who might be bandits. Daynel swayed easily on Firestar’s back, unbothered by the possibility of a fight. Her senses were as taut as the string of her bow and she knew that her mount’s ears were as keen as her own.

Baldric’s discomfort amused her greatly, to say the least. His religious sect was very passive, allowing the ways of life and nature to occur naturally and without interference. Because of this, his frequent threats to “warm her sit-upon” went unnoticed. She complied with his requests, though. Primarily because she felt sorrow that Ilesbet had saddled the poor man with such an unpleasant chore that required him to spirit her far away and keep her out of trouble until the time to return home was upon her. This was an assignment she would wish upon not even her worse enemy. She chuckled, recalling how many times her twin brothers had been called upon for a similar duty when Günter was not available. They had failed miserably, for she managed to escape them within hours of the announcement. How she enjoyed the brilliant red in their faces when she finally allowed them to discover her whereabouts, scoffing at their inability to track a mere female. Both had begged permission from both the king and the crown princes to deliver justice to her bare backside, and had been jovially refused. Daynel smiled with the memory, knowing that they were determined to show their competence as guards the next time they were given the chore. And still, she managed to evade them!

Daynel’s mind returned to the present and she reflected the third day that she and Baldric had traveled together, heading east toward the Great Waters. She had felt restless, uneasy, and understandingly disturbed by the image the Dragon’s Sight had burned into her mind. That same immense, powerful, strange man haunted her dreams now. And there was only one way to wipe away dreams. Mead.

“Baldric! I wish to go into town,” Daynel said wearily, rubbing her back as they plodded through the thick forest. “I want a feather bed and a meal made of something I have not hunted or you have conjured.”

“No, Princess. I have already explained to you the danger of being seen. Hungry men will sell their children for a piece of silver.”

“Such theatrics! My brother would aptly tell you that your place should be as an actor before a king, not a guard for the priestess,” Daynel scoffed. “Come with me and share a mug. It would do you good.”

“No, Princess,” Baldric said patiently. “My sect does not…”

“Drink spirits? The only thing the men in your sect seem to do for pleasure is mount women! You do mount women, and not sheep, right?” she antagonized him.

“Young lady, you are sorely trying my patience. Keep this up and I will warm your sit-upon!” Baldric growled.

Once again, his threat did nothing to prevent her from slipping away from the bedroll that evening and entering a tavern in the nearby village. The locals did not care about her trail-worn appearance, and gleefully welcomed the woman in their midst. After several mugs, Daynel began to challenge her drinking companions to games of skill, placing small wagers upon the table. Pretending to be slovenly drunk with wine, she issued one grand wager in knife throwing and produced a gold coin from her pocket. Slamming it on the table, she hiccupped and swayed, waiting for the prey to snag her bait.

“Five silvers each. Who would refuse such a large pot?” she slurred, her sharp eyes watching the grins rise among the others. Coins piled next to hers and the contest began. Within minutes, Daynel was happily scooping the coins into her pockets. Raucous laughter passed through the crowd and Daynel took that as a warning to leave quickly. One man blocked her path, his knife tip pressed to her throat.

“You stole our money, little girl. We want it back.” His sour breath made her wish to gag.

“I won your money fairly. Now you might have a knife to my throat, but I have one to your balls,” Daynel whispered, her eyes narrowing as she pressed the tip of her dagger against him. “I have no problem deflowering you before you take my life and my money. What have you?”

“I shall…”

“Mistress!” Baldric’s frantic voice called out. “The magistrate approaches and wishes to speak with you. Please hurry, milady.”

Daynel relaxed the hold on her knife as the man quickly withdrew from her and stepped aside. She nodded regally and began to follow Baldric out. In a blur, she turned and hurled a dagger that she had picked up from a table, catching the man’s trousers between his legs, pinning him to the wall. She raised an eyebrow, pleased with the precision of her throw and simply lifted a finger to her lips. With a smile, she hurried out the door and disappeared into the dark woods with Baldric at her heels.

“I thought your sect did not lie,” she chuckled, aware that his silence depicted anger, not an attempt to stay hidden.

“I will tend to you in the morning, Princess.”

“I am certain you will,” Daynel laughed, plopping back down on her bedroll. “Don’t forget to place the charm of protection around us, just in case that man decides to seek me out and try to reclaim his loss.”

She knew that her words would send Baldric into greater concern and, with a quiet chortle, she quickly fell into a deep, and happily dreamless, sleep. She was unaware that Baldric spent the remainder of the night in prayer, begging the gods to send him either wisdom or help. She did not see the eye on her hilt blink as the purple orb surveyed the follower of the priestess, or the ruby fang upon her neck glow like a hot ember. Baldric, task complete, fell to the soft carpeted forest ground, his life force exhausted by the placing of protection over her.

As she predicted, nothing was so much as spoken to her regarding her evening’s activities, nor did Baldric even make a move to discipline her.

“Baldric, you are making the horses nervous. No danger lurks behind the blades of grass,” Daynel finally said, watching him again look behind him as they traveled from town to town. He had good reason to practice caution, for without boundaries, Daynel took the opportunity to enjoy her freedom. No longer worrying about her position as a royal, she slipped away from Baldric’s watchful eye whenever they neared a town or a village. She was more careful this time in her wagers, continuing to surprise herself with her newfound precision in knife throwing, stones, coin tosses, and archery. Baldric grew wise to her exploits, however, and managed to move her out before her image became overtly memorable. He would bundle her onto Firestar, not trying to remove the skin of wine from her hand, and return her to their site to bed her down.

“Why must you continue this way, Princess? You drink spirits every evening now,” he finally asked, his voice weak from fatigue.

“Cannot stop the dreams from coming,” Daynel mumbled into her arm, shaking her head. “They play over and over again. He is always there…he frightens me.”

“The dreams are trying to speak to you. You need to listen to them, not run.”

Daynel looked into his sunken, dark eyes, meeting them knowingly. He looked exhausted, probably from staying awake for hours on end worrying about her. She felt a rush of shame for how she had treated her kind guide. Before she could say anything, she screwed her body to the side to spew the contents of her stomach. Baldric shook his head, holding her hair from her face as her body rejected the intake of the evening. He handed her a water skin as he gently sponged off her forehead.

“You must cease this behavior,” he said softly, holding the water to her trembling lips. “The gods are displeased and are being pressed into punishing you.”

“What? Are they going to ‘warm my sit-upon’?” Daynel laughed miserably. “No one except Günter does that. And he, less than a handful in my lifetime.”

“It is something you have required for many years,” Baldric said. “You feel safety in pain.”

“I most certainly do not,” Daynel spat, glaring at him.

“You are chosen to lead us, Princess. The opening of the Eye,” he glanced at her sword, “and the heartbeat of the fang proves this. Pain is needed for you to feel, for the power to be released into you. You will be a priestess of our people and…”