Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (39 page)

THE
BIBLIOTHEQUE NATIONALE
was immense. Drace went to the
information desk and pointed to the name on the note. He and Cerise were asked to take a seat. Thirty minutes later a short, gray haired woman in a navy blue skirt and white blouse came and greeted them. Drace showed her the title on his smart phone. She asked them to follow her and she led them to a windowless reading room with dark furniture and medieval tapestries on the wall.

She left them and returned about twenty minutes later and laid the book on the polished table.

The book in front of Drace was on ancient Egyptian mythology. He had learned about it because what he saw from his Internet search was that Werren writing was similar to Egyptian hieroglyphics. Although they were in the Egyptology wing of the library, the book itself was a fairly recent publication, and to Drace’s surprise was published in both English and French. He did not know this because only the French pages had been scanned in the Google search.

When he opened the cover he was certain he heard a ‘yes’ whispered into his consciousness. He flipped through pages of text on the Egyptian gods and almost missed it, but something caught his eye and he flipped back a page.

There was a picture of the goddess Hathor and Drace pointed to the text. Hathor was a goddess who played a motherly role to each reigning pharaoh. What really caught his attention was when he read that when she became vengeful; she took the form of a ferocious lioness. He sat back with a jolt. He leaned forward and reread the pages. He scribbled notes furiously and then read a few more pages, but saw nothing else about the goddess. He turned to the front of the book and took down information from the copyright page.

Drace thanked the woman, saying merci, merci repeatedly. He opened his wallet and offered to pay her for her assistance, but she refused. She took the book and left Drace and Cerise to find their way back to the main lobby,

Drace flipped a couple of pages of his tablet and found his notes. “Egyptian deities date back four to five thousand years ago. Ki’s society is heavily influenced by their gods. Their…
supreme,
or high god is Arahtok, creator of the Lion-kin and the different clans. Following this?”

“Yes, so far it’s fairly simple.”

“Hathor was one of the most revered goddesses in the Egyptian culture. She was the mother of Ra, the sun god. Apparently, she could become quite ruthless at times and when she did, she took the form of a lioness.”

“So what’s the connection to Kismera?”

“Hathor was thought to play a caring, motherly role in the pharaohs’ lives. One pharaoh discovered that Hathor had another child and was insanely jealous. Seeing rebellion in the pharaoh’s heart, she sent her son to another world, to be its guiding force and to be safe. The world itself was not mentioned, nor the name of the mate Hathor provided for him, so that he wouldn’t be lonely. The son was given the image of a lion and a man and his name was Arahtok.”

“Oh my god,” Cerise breathed. “You found the connection.” She sat back in amazement. “Now, how can we use it?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I wrote down the author’s name and a website from the copyright page. The next step is to email her.

Drace and Cerise flew to Vienna the next day. Drace had made arrangements to visit the Spanish Riding School there. Upon arrival, they settled into their hotel and Drace phoned the Friesian breeder to confirm their appointment. After lunch, they went to the Spanish Riding School to see the Lipizzaner stallions perform.

Drace sat through the performance silently, entranced, and taking mental notes. The white stations were trained to the highest level of dressage and the Airs above the Ground. Afterwards, Drace visited a shop and bought two books, one on the history of the riding school, and the other on dressage by a former headmaster of the school, translated into English.

After the demonstration, the two went to a café. “That was incredible!” Drace said, excited. He returned his attention to his books and ran his fingers through his hair as he read. The long locks stuck out in all directions.

“You should really get a hair cut,” Cerise observed, “You’re starting to look like a barbarian.”

He looked up at her then back at his book. “No,” he said flatly

“You know you’re not suppose to read at the table?” Cerise scolded, mimicking their father’s tone.

“Sorry. Guess I’m still pumped up from the show.”

Cerise smiled at him. “You’re like a boy with a new toy.” It had been a long time since she had seen him so happy.

The next morning, they visited Schonbrun, the summer palace of emperors and then went for a stroll through the famous Vienna woods.

Their last stop was Saint Stephen’s Cathedral. They climbed up the five hundred and thirty-three steps to the Cathedral’s tower. Once at the top, the scene made their exertion worth it, the eagle’s eye view was breathtaking.

When Cerise looked over at Drace, she could tell he was away in another world. She hesitated then asked, “What are you remembering?”

Drace sighed, “The view from the top of the towers at Oralia,” he said. “Of course, there aren’t nearly the number of people, and everything was built more for defense than art. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful fortress.”

Drace leaned back against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at Cerise. “Let me ask you a serious question.”

Okay,” Cerise said, worried by his tone. “Shoot.”

“If, and keep in mind it’s a big if, we can get to Oralia, would you truly be happy there?”

Cerise’s looked at him, puzzled.

Drace continued, “I know what you’d have to give up. I don’t want you to have any misconceptions of what to expect.” He uncrossed his arms, pushed away from the wall, and turned to look out over the city. “No electricity, no phone, no running water,” he stated. “No financial plundering for you to sink your teeth into.” He turned his head slightly and looked at her with one eye. “You might get bored. But all kidding aside, it can be a dangerous place. There are creatures you cannot imagine that would kill as soon as look at you. The medical care is limited. There are no super shopping centers. Travel takes days, with roughing it on the way. You have to work hard sometimes just to survive.” He turned to her. “Could you do it, Cerise? Could you give up everything?”

Cerise looked at him in amazement.

He continued, “If you decide you don’t like it, what then? You might be stuck.”

She pondered everything he said then responded, “Let me ask you a question. You had to adapt to the conditions you just listed, and besides, you were wounded…but weren’t you happy there?

Drace looked down at his boots. “Yeah. I was happy there, but I was lucky and found someone.”

“Maybe I will too. I’m thirty, Drace, and alone. Maybe my somebody is over there as well.”

“That might be. And yeah, I was stitched up from an encounter that happened in the Great Hall. I probably would have died at Hopa. That’s why I’m here now.” He turned away from her, digging his hands into his hair. “Jesus,
Cerise.” He turned back to her and enfolded her in a hug. I just want you to be happy.”

“I’ll be happy. We’re a team; remember? Always have been.” She broke the embrace. “Come on. Let’s head back to the hotel. We have an early flight to Amsterdam. We have your prize horses to buy.”

Drace gave her a brotherly kiss on her forehead. “I am so glad I have you, C. You’ve gotten me through all this.” He took her hand and they headed down the long stairwell.

DRACE AND CERISE ARRIVED in Amsterdam mid-morning, rented a car, and stayed in a modest hotel in the city to rest. The next morning they made the short drive to the farm of Wilhelm Konin, breeder of some of the finest Friesians in Europe. Wilhelm was a short, friendly gentleman who spoke excellent English. He lived with his wife, son, daughter-in-law, and three grandchildren all under the age of twelve.

Wilhelm showed Drace a total of twelve mares; each one caught and led by one of the children. Each of the mares patiently tolerated a child climbing on them and riding around the small paddock. Cerise began to see what made Drace love the Friesian breed. Wilhelm said all of his horses were broken to drive, and were proven carriage horses.

Drace had originally planned to purchase just two mares, but a smaller mare caught his eye as well and he fell in love with her. The mare had a sweet face and even sweeter disposition. Her name was Glory.

All three mares were in foal by different stallions, which would extend Drace’s breeding program if the foals were female.

Drace also decided on a young stallion. The horse would be an excellent stallion to cross back to Pride’s daughters. But before he could be used for that purpose, Drace would break him to saddle and start the horse’s show career. While watching the young stallion play in a paddock he thought of another who would have liked the horse.

Drace was strangely quiet on the drive back to Amsterdam.

“What’s on your mind?” Cerise asked, “I thought you would be excited. You’re well on your way to starting your breeding program.”

“Oh, I’m very happy with today. Wilhelm is too, I expect. That was a pretty good chunk of change for him.”

“So what has you so quiet?”

“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it really. It’s like someone is watching me. Does that make sense?”

“It could be jetlag. We haven’t been very sedentary.”

“Let’s get back to the hotel and get a good night’s sleep.

They had a modest dinner and went to their adjoining rooms. After a quick shower, Drace was in bed. For the first time in weeks he fell asleep in no time, but rest would evade him.

Drace was caught in a nightmare, replaying the battle of Hopa. Things he had seen out of the corner of his eye now registered with clarity.

He recalled seeing Jumon take a spear in the shoulder, reach up to snap it off close to his body, and continue hacking away with a blood-covered battle axe. He saw Zol go down under the sword of a Zakara who reached down and ripped out his throat.

Drace pulled Pride to a sliding stop and dismounted and sent the stallion out of the middle of a group of fighting men.

Tren was gone, as well as several other men. He knew their names and had met some of their families. Anger shot through him, and he fought harder, blood covering his glove until his hand was slick with it. He had lost his shield and fought with sword and dagger. His voice was hoarse from screaming.

Then he saw Ki and desperately fought his way towards her. She turned to him, calling his name. The wind picked up, roaring in his ears. He could see Ki calling out again but he couldn’t hear her over the storm in his head and his vision went black.

Drace, bolted upright, vision still blind, drenched in sweat. He couldn’t remember where he was, but heard anxious voices, finally recognizing Cerise’s among the others.

He gasped and pushed his sweat-dampened hair off his face with a shaking hand. The voices finally stopped and a door closed with a gentle click.

“Drace?” Cerise whispered. “Hon, are you okay?”

“Can’t see, I can’t see,” he panted. He made a strangled noise deep in his throat. He felt like screaming, not as a warrior, but as a frightened child and it choked him.

“Shh, it’s okay sweetie, it’s okay,” Cerise soothed. “I’m going to sit on the bed next to you, alright? It’s just me.”

He felt her weight settle next to him then her warmth. Drace didn’t realize until then how cold he was. He began to shake all over.

Cerise touched him gently on his upper arm and became more alarmed with how rigid Drace’s muscles were. She felt the tremors running through him. “It was a dream,” she told him quietly. “Just a dream.”

“Cerise?” His normally deep voice had an unusual high tone to it.

“I’m here, D. Right here.” She rubbed her hand over his arm, stroking him as she would a spooked horse.

“I can’t see anything.”

Drace was clearly alarmed and Cerise worried it could escalate into a full-blown panic attack. She kept one hand on his arm and reached over to turn on the bedside lamp.

For a few seconds his pupils shone huge and his teeth were clenched. Cerise watched his face as awareness crept in, his jaw relaxed and his pupils constricted. He blinked once at her, and then seemed to deflate, elbows going onto his raised knees. He buried his face into his hands.

Cerise sat quietly and continued to rub his arm for a moment. She heard him mumble, “Fuck,” under his breath.

“That bad?” she asked, managing to keep her tone light.

“Holy Mother, yes.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

“No.” He sat up straight, and then collapsed back onto the bed. “God, no.”

The tremors were letting up and his heart had slowed almost to normal, but his skin still felt prickly. “I thought I heard voices or was that part of the dream?”

“They were real,” Cerise informed. “You woke up practically the whole floor.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Would you turn the light off? My head is pounding.”

Cerise complied and the room was dark once more.

“Thanks,” Drace sighed. “What did you tell them?”

“At first they all thought I was killing you. It’s very hard to convince someone you’re not committing murder when you don’t speak the language. I think I got it through to them that you were having a little nightmare.”

Drace brought his arm up over his eyes. “Little, my ass.” His other hand came up and found hers in the dark. “Thank you, Cerise. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

Unsure what to say, Cerise rose from his bed. She left the door between their rooms open.

The nightmare had left him feeling drained, but Drace lay awake for the rest of night, afraid to go back to sleep.

He remained quiet, thoughts turned inward, as they caught their flight to Edinburgh. It was late when they checked into their hotel within walking distance of Prince’s Street and Edinburgh Castle.

Drace had eaten little at breakfast, refused anything on the plane, and then had picked at his dinner. He took out his smart phone and disappeared into his room, closing the door between them.

Cerise showered and changed into pajamas and then went and knocked lightly on the door to Drace’s room. With his permission, she opened the door to and saw him staring at his phone.

“Lorrie emailed and said the Andalusians made it there safe and sound from quarantine.” His voice sounded tired.

“That’s great. How did she like them?”

“Everyone loves them. The grooms are already sneaking Leo treats. He’s going to be big as a blimp when I get home. Lorrie says he’s charming.” He rubbed his face, tired.

“Leo?” Cerise remarked, amused.

“Yeah. You know, Leo the Lion?” He turned and pulled off his shoes and socks. Then he stood, took off his black, long sleeve t-shirt, and tossed it onto the chair were he’d been sitting. He absently rubbed at his bare chest. He walked to the window. “I didn’t get anything from the archeologist on Arahtok yet.”

“Maybe she’s on site or something.”

“Could be,” he said. Finally, he turned and yawned, rubbing at his chest again.

Cerise looked at him quizzically. “Do you have a flea or something?”

Drace gave a short laugh. “Nah. I’ve just had this weird prickling sensation all day. The airplane air is probably drying out my skin. Can I get some lotion from you?”

“Sure,” Cerise said and headed into her room.

“Hey,” he called after her. “Try to avoid the really girly smelling one, okay?”

She returned with a bottle. “What’s the matter, big boy? You afraid of flowers?”

“No, just what’s attracted to them,” he said, taking the bottle from her. “Thanks. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”

Cerise stood on tiptoe to kiss him good night and left him to his shower.

Once in bed, he lay awake for a long time, fearing to be caught in another dream. The one the previous night had unnerved him. He knew that was the reason his skin was crawling. He felt watched, but he didn’t want Cerise to know. She’d probably think I’m losing my mind.

Finally, exhausted after the previous nights loss of sleep and traveling all day, he drifted off. He dreamed again of the world he had left behind, but it was in fleeting images, thankfully none of battle, but of more pleasing memories.

Drace woke the next morning realizing he had seen nothing of Ki. He was more rested but felt a deep sense of disappointment as well.

“Did the lotion help?” Cerise asked him over breakfast.

His appetite had returned; he made short work of his meal and sat watching Cerise eat hers.

“Yeah, it did,” he said. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a charcoal Henley with his jeans; a navy waterproof windbreaker was draped on the back of his chair. His hair was done up in a knotted ponytail.

“You look better today.”

“Thank you,” he said. “So, what’s on your itinerary for today?”

“I’d like to tour Edinburgh Castle. The lady at the front desk told me last night that Princes Street has a lot of nice shops. I’d like to look for some clan stuff.”

“Clan stuff? Like what?”

“You know, like some tartan material, maybe something with the family emblem on it. Both sets of your grandparents come from Scotland. When I was little, your gramps and my dad would brag on the homeland all the time. Your mom’s folks, MacGillivrays, were the same way. I never could figure why they left it if they loved it so much.

“The Scots probably knew we would be coming along and kicked them out,” Drace joked. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am,” she said. She stood and slipped on a light wool navy blazer over a white shirt and long navy skirt. She wore comfortable half boots. She had braided her hair and wore a light covering of makeup.

“I hope I don’t have to hurt anyone today,” Drace muttered.

“Why do you say that?”

“Cause Cerise, you are fine-looking today and some Scot is going to want to slip away over the heather with you and I’ll have to defend your honor.”

She looked up at him. “Maybe I won’t want defending and I’ll go willingly.”

Drace snorted. “You are incorrigible. Come on, let’s go see your castle.”