Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians (11 page)

“Ary,
what’s going on?” She looked exhausted as she stood clutching her cloak about
her shoulders. She wasn’t dressed for the cold as she’d donned only her cloak
when Allos had come to find her. She was still dressed in the warm nightgown
that Mayla had given her when they’d first arrived.

Elizabeth
looked back and forth between her sister and Allos. He hadn’t told her why he’d
had to wake her before the dawn. It wasn’t his place. “I’ll be just outside if
you need me.” Allos eyed Aryaunna intently and looked sorry as he looked back
to Elizabeth whilst walking out. The darkness swallowed him up, and the two
sisters were left alone.

“Ary?”
Elizabeth’s brows rose expectantly. It was taking all her energy to look angry
rather than worried.

“Do
you know a young man named Derric Bayford?” Aryaunna stood against the wall
with her arms folded across her body. This room was colder than the arena by at
least ten degrees. Elizabeth looked taken back, and intensely uncomfortable.
“Do you know him, Elizabeth?” Aryaunna wanted to be tender, but after what
she’d just had to do she just didn’t have it in her.

“He
was a servant at the Church,” her voice was frosted with a stirring anger.
“What is this about?”

“He’s
here… And he says he’s come for us. Because…” It took her a moment to gather
the words that she didn’t want to say, afraid of what many different things
they could mean.

“Ary?”
her sister questioned, not knowing what else to say. Her eyes were wide with
fear and her mouth tight with anger.

“He
says he’s your lover. That he loves you and he knew we were in danger. He was
found in the wood, calling out for us. He doesn’t know me though. Not by my
face that is.” Aryaunna stared at her feet. Her boots hadn’t yet been laced.

Elizabeth
crumpled down against a small table top. Compelled to comfort her, Aryaunna
walked to her sister and placed a hand on her shoulder. “He was Bishop Dupont’s
man servant.”

The
blood seeped out of Aryaunna’s face. Looking down at her hand on her shoulder she
saw a smear of blood that did not belong to her. Her fist clinched and she
dropped it to her side. “What did he do to you?” her voice was so soft it was
amazing Elizabeth had even heard it.

Elizabeth
turned her head away, holding herself tighter. “You know what he did. You know
what they both did,” she whispered. Fear and shame splashed hot tears down her
cheeks. “The chamber shackles.”

Aryaunna’s
shaking hands touched to the crown of her sister’s head as she leaned over and
kissed her crimson tangles. “Wait here.”

Aryaunna
ran out before Elizabeth could even gather her thoughts.

She
ran right into Allos’ chest and bounced back. He caught her and held a finger
up over her mouth. Guiding her to a pitch black corner in the room he bowed his
head close to hers. “Did she know him?” Aryaunna nodded, unable to find the
words. “What did she say about him saying he loved her?” She shook her head,
too angry to trust her voice. The rage was building inside of her like she’d
never felt before. “Why won’t you tell me?” he was confused by her reaction.

It
took a moment for him to realize she was shaking. He started to speak but she
cut him off, “You must go to my sister. Take her away from here and stay with
her. Please, promise me,” her words were a venomous hiss. She couldn’t give
Allos orders. She liked him too much as a friend. But she needed this. She
needed this like a drowning man needed air. “Do this for me, Allos. I beg of
you.” Her burning hot hand clutched his arm as she looked to where she knew she
would meet his eyes. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel him looking hard
at her.

“Swear
to me you will explain this.”

Hesitantly
she nodded. “I swear.”

“Call
to Reign, Aryaunna. He is always near.” His large hand, tightened into a fist,
pressed against her breast bone high on her chest. “If I cannot help you
through this, then you must call to him. The Drow are your people, they would
follow you anywhere. But where you’re going, I think you need more. You need a
friend.”

It
wasn’t until he went to pull away that she realized she was still holding onto
his arm. He was right. She needed a friend. Allos left her alone in the
darkened space, where no light seemed to dare to go. Closing her eyes she
sought for his face. The Dragon. Her friend. Reign.
I need you
, she
thought desperately, wishing more than anything that he was there.

Aryaunna
stayed there in the dark, until she saw the lump of figures enter the room.
Standing in the door, light cast over them from the burning sconce. Allos held
Elizabeth in one arm, close to his body as he ushered her safely through the
dark.

Aryaunna
watched them stop at the stares. Allos was nearly carrying her. The shock of
Derric finding her here was debilitating. Though they could claim nothing as
their own, coming to the Hollow had given Aryaunna and Elizabeth one thing
they’d not had since they’d been young children. Safety. They’d been safe in
the Hollow before Derric had come and destroyed that hope. Elizabeth had been
as happy as Aryaunna had ever seen her. In minutes, Aryaunna had taken that
from her and rendered her to an empty vessel.

It
was something she would never forgive herself for.

Allos
wrapped his arms around her and guided her securely up the stairs. Aryauna
listened to them until she could no longer discern their footsteps. When she
was alone, truly alone, her eyes closed and she asked Reign to help her through
this night. She asked for his strength. Upon opening her eyes, she felt no pain
in her weary body.

Calmly
she walked from the dark towards the arena.

The
Drow had done nothing more than she asked. A thick braided rope was tied around
Derric’s head, parting his lips and holding his jaw apart. A sufficient, and
likely very irritating, gag. Effective. She nodded to Raif in approval. The
last gag he’d used had been a strip of cloth. Not nearly as effective.

Slowly
she walked up around Derric. Her hand lay onto his shoulder from behind as she
approached, making him nearly jump out of his skin. Luckily the ropes kept him
in it. For the time being anyways.

Her
touch was almost sweet as she walked around in front of him. “Pleasure to see
you again, Derric.”

Gurgling
his anger, he had to gasp to catch his ragged breath. His nose touched his
cheek now. Breathing around the thick rope must’ve been difficult. “You know, I
almost feel insulted. You don’t look nearly as pleased as I am.” Her eyes
sparkled with absolute rage. It was almost disturbing the amount of calm she
felt.

The
tension in the room grew palpable. Raif took a careful step closer as Aryaunna
sat down on Derric’s lap. His eyes were wide, white visible around his otherwise
dark orbs. It was no surprise that he was frightened of her. Yet he had no idea
just how frightened he should be. “You know, it is terribly rude of me. I
haven’t introduced myself.” Her smile was slow, some would say seductive. “My
name is Aryaunna.” She let it sink in, and as it did she watched. A tear ran
down his cheek. Derric knew he would not survive this night.

“Oh,
am I mistaken? Do you know me, Derric?
Truly
?” her words were venom and
malice. Her pretenses fell away completely and she stood. “The rest of you
should leave.” The humor and taunt had left her tone. “I’m not asking,” she
said as calmly as she could to them. She would not lose her self-control in
front of the few people in the world she respected.

Raif
nodded to his three other companions and motioned for the door. He took up the
tail end and followed behind them, though never took his eyes off Aryaunna. A
heavy wooden door creaked open, and three Drow left the room. Raif shut it just
behind them and dropped the heavy wooden beam from the side wall down into the
bars to secure it. He turned his back to the door and locked eyes with
Aryaunna. His fist held over his chest. She was never truly in the dark… He
bowed his head to her, and she returned the gesture. He wouldn’t leave her.

Her
hand grabbed Derric’s hair in her fist, shoving his neck backward against the
brace of the straight-back chair. In her other hand suddenly was her sword,
bringing the blade for him to see. “Do not move,” she ordered him, as the flat
of her sword slid against his neck and twisted. Her sharp blade was held hard
against the rope that gagged him. She was careful enough not to gouge out his
flesh. The rope frayed and soon snapped, falling to the floor.

She
laid the tip of her sword against his cheek, aimed up for his eye. “There will
be no second chances now, Derric.” She looked into his eyes as she hovered
above him. “This is going to hurt,” she warned with complete lack of
affliction. She looked to Raif and nodded down to Derric.

In
a second’s time, Raif held his head tightly in his hands to keep him still. The
hand in his hair released and grabbed ahold of his nose, forcefully snapping it
back to its rightful place on his face.

He
cried and groaned out in agony. She sneered in disgust. He didn’t know agony
and had no right to cry out. The hand holding the hilt of her blade trembled.
Knowing how hard her control was going to be to hang onto, she swung it and
sheathed it in one smooth motion.

Raif
released him and stepped back, waiting silently until he was needed.

“You
will tell me everything I want to know. And for every answer I don’t get in the
time that I want it I will inflict you a
great
deal of pain. Is this
clear?” Derric looked up at her, snot and blood drizzling down his mouth and
chin as tears stained his cheeks. She grabbed hold of one of his fingers and
began to bend it back until he began to nod furiously. “Good.” She released.

“Someone
sent you here.” He looked at her and then the floor. His lips were trembling.
He didn’t want to agree, but when she took a step forward he nodded again.
“Who?”

“D-Dupont,”
he stuttered.

Her
stomach churned with nausea. “Why?” she forced herself to ask, though she was
very afraid she knew.

“You
went missing… You and Elizabeth. A prior was dead.” He gave Aryaunna a look,
though pitiful as it was, clearly said she had to be stupid not to get it. She
did. But she had to hear it.

“You’re
Dupont’s man-whore,” she stated as if this might be a question. He said
nothing, but didn’t hide his glare. “No reason in denying it, Derric. I know
what you’ve done.” It impressed her how easily she said it. Having Raif nearby
was very helpful, in more ways than she could’ve imagined. Or maybe it was
something else. Something inside of her had felt stronger since she’d stepped
through the arena door this time-As if she had been given the strength she
lacked.

“Tell
me
why
Dupont thought it would be useful to send
you
… And here of
all places. Why did he send you to the wood?” His jaw clamped tightly. Before
he knew what was happening, she had grabbed the index finger of his left hand
and snapped it back. “Why, Derric?”

His
body twitched and twisted hard against the ropes in his chair, not trying to
escape, but caused by spams of pain. He screamed and sobbed but in his delay
she broke another. “Next time I cut one off,” she warned in a deadly calm.

“The
Church has no record of you! He needed proof, not hearsay!” Now that was
interesting.

“But
why
you
?” His bottom lip quivered, for fear what she would do to him
when he confessed. Another finger, this time on his right hand.

“Because,”
he choked on a sob and the blood from his nose alike. “I’m expendable. If
something happened to me, no one would miss me.”

“Good
boy.” She slapped his cheek lazily, as if he was a dog that had finally done a
trick properly. “And the woodland, why so close to the Hollow? There’s other
villages around Kenan, more plausible choices. Even the Pagans past Birsheer.
You were found with no food, no water. You haven’t come far, and you weren’t planning
to travel. Don’t try to lie.”

He
nodded. Aryaunna was right, but he needed a minute to gather himself. The pain
was becoming mind-numbing. “A woman came to Kenan.” He took a ragged breath.
“She spoke of a prophecy. The Guardians return, by way of an Emissary. The
child of a witch. She claimed it would be a woman, a young woman that had been
wronged by the Church.”

Raif
shifted. He was listening.

Aryaunna
walked closer to Derric, but his head was hanging down. He couldn’t bring
himself to look at her. She grabbed his hair in her hand and jerked his head up
so he would be forced to see her. She waited a moment, when he didn’t respond
right away she grabbed one of his thumbs. “The prophecy said she would find the
last Dragon. Dupont says the last Dragon was cursed by the Magistrate. If the
prophecy was true, and you are their Emissary and had gone to find the last
Dragon, you’d have had to come here first.”

“I’ve
been here for months. Why now?” Her eyes were narrow as she thought hard on
this.

“The
woman just came to the village a few days ago. The Church hadn’t found out
about her until last night. They’re going to burn her two days hence. Dupont
was hoping I would bring you back, or Elizabeth.” He bit his lip and looked
away from Aryaunna. When he said her name he couldn’t stand to look at her. A
sick twisted part of his heart actually did care for Elizabeth.

“I
knew the legends of the Hollow,” he continued without prompt. “I never would
have found you just wandering, so I began to call out. I knew if you were
really here, someone would find me.”

She
released him and stepped back, turning away from him, but not out of her line
of sight entirely. “Raif… Go get Allos. Now.” He was at the door and lifting
the brace at a moment’s notice.

She
gave him a moment, until she knew he’d have made it to the surface. Slowly she
turned back to Derric. His head was hung forward. “Just do it,” he whispered,
looking up to her with a plea of desperation in his eyes.

“Is
there anything else you need to tell me?” Her right hand took hold of the hilt
at her left, and pulled it carefully from the sheath.

“There
is nothing else that I have to tell you. Dupont isn’t foolish enough to tell me
anything. What I know is whispered amongst the Sisters and servants.” She
stepped forward. In her left hand she grabbed hold of his hair. His eyes
closed, and a look of relief washed over him. Her blade was merciful as it
connected quick and forcefully against his throat, pulling back in one swift
movement. Blood poured down his neck, soaking his clothes in moments as it
seeped from the wound.

She
wiped the blood off her sword on her pants. Her hands were shaking now. It had
to be done. He’d helped destroy a part of her sister’s heart, her life even.
He’d done nothing to help her when Elizabeth had been shackled to a floor in
Dupont’s room for eighteen days. Eighteen days of the worst hell imaginable. It
had been weeks after that before Elizabeth could even bring herself to speak
again, even to Aryaunna. She would have done it again if he’d been alive in
that chair in front of her still.

Derric
had been the first man she’d ever intentionally killed. The first man she’d
ever intentionally hurt. She’d tortured him for information. She tried to sheath
the sword but it fell to the floor. Her hands were shaking so badly she
couldn’t even pick it up from the ground.

Tears
streaked down her face. She’d tortured and killed a man and hadn’t even thought
twice about it. What sort of monster was she, she wondered?

Drowning
in her own self-realized horror, she hadn’t heard Allos enter the room. She’d
looked down at her hands. Even in the dim glow of the fires she saw the blood
on her hands. How had it gotten there? Sickened by it she started wiping her
hands against her clothes, gasping for air as she tried to clean herself of his
blood, of his death.

“Ary,
Ary, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Allos grabbed hold of her and turned her away from
the corpse. “You’re all right,” he said again, trying to get her to focus on
him. “You did what you had to do.”

She
was starting to hyperventilate. “Get me out of here,” she begged between gasps.

Kneeling
down he grabbed her sword, keeping one hand on her arm as if he needed to keep
her in place. Standing, he pulled her in under his arm and walked her swiftly
out the door.

As
soon as she was outside the arena she stopped and braced her hands on her knees
as she bent over. “I’m all right, just give me a minute,” she assured him.

His
hand squeezed her shoulder firmly and let her go. He stood back behind her so
as not to make her feel smothered. In a moment she stood up, took in a deep
breath and let it out in a gust. “You don’t have to worry. I don’t have time
for a meltdown.” She nodded to the open door where a dim light flickered just
beyond. The room they’d been in before.

When
they’d entered, he shut the door and took up the small torch, lighting three
others, one for each wall, before returning the torch to the security of the
wall sconce. The room wasn’t as small as she’d originally thought. The table
was sizable, long and solid oak, beautifully made. It had chairs much like the
one Derric’s body was tied to surrounding it. Pulling out a chair she plopped
down into it. He set her sword down on the table, hilt near her, before he sat
beside her.

She
told him everything. So much of everything that she’d wished she could take a
good deal of it back. Without meaning to, she’d told Allos some of the many
horrors that had plagued her and her sister. She told him about the shackles on
the floors in the bed chambers. Her own encounters with them and Elizabeth’s
many more, and how Derric had been a part of it all for Elizabeth. She had no
right to say this to him, and she said so, apologizing profusely when she
caught up with her own tongue.

She
told him everything that he’d confessed. Even confessing her own shock that
she’d tortured a man and cut his throat without mercy. “Not without mercy,”
Allos interrupted.