MOONDOCK (3 page)

“Your protector trained you well, elamie.”

The taunt infuriated Melane. “I am my own protector.”

Her answer lit his expressive eyes, making them sparkling under the sun like tiny diamonds floating in the dark pools. For a second Melane became lost in the spell they cast, forgetting all but the night heaven’s fathomless depths. The lapse earned his lunge, driving her back with his sweeping blade. When their swords clashed, the impact vibrated up her arm, alarming her over the obvious physical difference between them. She was a warrior; no doubt he possessed the same skills. Unlike the clumsy Kibra that relied on brute strength, this man moved with cunning and expertise, wielding the sword in unmatched power!

When his blade danced about her own, the pulling release from her grip was almost gentle in the taking. Immobile and defenseless, Melane waited for the killing blow.

“Only a fool would destroy such beauty.” She was that and more standing bravely before him, wishing to slay him with those striking blue eyes. He never encountered such effrontery in an elamie. She was a rare one as well as very pleasing to the eyes. The thick wet lengths of her hair reached past her waist, one he could easily span within his hold. The gentle curve of her hips was firm and smooth, leading to delicately trimmed thighs and legs. There was almost a regal air to her beauty. The unexpected defiance in those exotic eyes caused something inside him to ripple to life. He did not believe for a moment that she accepted her defeat, not when those cool blue eyes shined with bold arrogance, refusing to look down before his own fierce stance.

A pitiful wail came from the fallen animal. His sword stayed her movement.

Melane never felt such rage. “You are a cruel beast!”

“Shall we try that again, elamie? The name is Wylan or…master. Either will do.”

Stepping back, her eyes grew large in their incredulous glare.

“Male arrogance!” Melane’s lips curled over his roaring laughter.

“Maybe my new elamie is not such a prize after all. Did your protector let you loose on purpose?”

His sarcasm didn’t miss its mark, but Melane refused to humor him any further. Holding silent, she folded her arms across her chest for emphasis.

Tipping his sword to her in salute, the male started a guarded walk around her.

Biting her lip she held fast when he retrieved her sword and knife. The loss made her extremely uncomfortable before him. When he lifted her armor and clucked in distaste, she turned her head away “And where, prey tell, did an elamie obtain warrior garb?”

“If by your word, elamie, you refer to me, the answer should be obvious. I am as you say, a warrior…a Lamar captain of the Grand Guard, to be exact.”

“Arrogance, now pride, what other surprises do you hold from view, elamie?”

“None…unless it is to kill you at the first opportunity.”

Where were her thoughts, to warm him such! She inwardly screamed, he annoyed her so. His laughter was like a lash upon her ebbing control.

“Already you add flavor to the pleasure I have but sampled from afar. No doubt you drove your previous protector to the edge. Tell me his name so I might relieve the poor soul of his burden.”

Spinning about to face her tormentor, she herself straightened at his own return to a fighting stance over her action. The knowledge brought her full lips up into a slight, satisfied smile.
Wary of me, as you should be…male!
And
such a one she never expected; a formidable species, so large and strong. His skin was smooth like polished brass.

Berating her foolish thoughts, she knew it unwise to antagonize him, but he pricked something rebellious inside her that refused to be tamed. “You must think me weak to continue insisting I need or have a protector. The prospect not only is loathsome, but absurd. I, Melane, am my own Nemow, no other would dare lay claim to a Lamar.”

“Then I have no one to thank for your unexpected presence? Other than yourself of course.” Wylan forced himself to breathe evenly under her watchful gaze. Keeping up this maddening banter was difficult and if not so very informative he would quickly end the game.

“The head must be muscle bound as well to have taken the truth so long to penetrate.” The control she used not to show her fear, under the thunderstorm filling those midnight eyes, nearly exhausted her.

“Curbing your sharp tongue will be my first priority.”

“You assume much, for a male spawn!”

Melane didn’t wait for the bull to charge. Her feet moved with the lightening urgency necessary to avoid his reaching clasp.

The black satin slipped through his fingers. Cursing, Wylan moved to block her flight towards the beast.

“Rolley!” Turning from his massive form, she spun again and away from the cliffs. Melane growled when she saw he stood between her and the only escape. The pool was her only path. With a running dive into the pool, she heard him follow before she broke the water. All her strength could not outdistance the great strokes overcoming her. Melane’s furious scream was silenced as he pulled her by the ankles beneath the water.

Holding the thrashing wildcat down, not even the threat of drowning mellowed her fight. Feeling panic overtaking her anger, Wylan drew her up to the surface for air.

Gasping for breath, once gained, her fury broke loose, but his iron solid arms locked about her, ending her pitiful attempts to break free.

“Let me go…you foul beast!”

“The prospect is intriguing, don’t tempt me.”

“Ooh…”

All kinds of wild thoughts, beyond his anger, came with the squirming form pressed against his own. She actually fought him in earnest! Had the old ones not trained this elamie in the ways? He heard of rare instances when an elamie needed to be reschooled, but she was wild, hardly civilized.

Lifting her up before him as he exited pool, Wylan kept her feet from touching the ground. She needed no advantages in delivering the blows she attempted to inflict. Even bare footed she had the strength to injure a man in the most effective manner, and the knowledge, if her well-aimed efforts proved anything. Putting her none to gently on the ground face down, Wylan straddled her hips, pinning her arms with one hand behind her back. Pulling the tether strips lose from his belt, he quickly tied her arms and her legs, hindering her freedom.

Her angry growl, when he rose off her, earned his guarded smile. He’d wasted enough time; it would be almost nightfall before they reached his camp.

Going back to the pool, Wylan retrieved the weapons, placing hers inside his belt. His own still had unfinished business to tend to.

His rage at her should have ended Melane’s fight. Her fear of this male, was no longer a simmering tease, the danger he posed became all too real. Rocking to her side she watched him in wary concern, swallowing hard over the sword once again in his steeled fist. She would not cry out when the deathblow came. Above all else she would die with honor.

When he walked past her a new fear seized Melane. “Nooo . . .!”

His intent kept her moan from reaching him. Falling back onto her stomach she fought to raise her head. Through the dark veil of fallen hair, her dread was confirmed when she saw him standing above…Rolley!

“No please! Oh please don’t kill Rolley. I swear…I will behave, please…Wylan!” He’d refused to look at her until she called out his name. Ignoring the pain in her cry he raised the sword. Groaning, a rage took hold of Melane so fierce that it rocked her body. Squeezing her eyes shut, her mind filled with only one thought…stopping him.

A low almost inaudible sound came from the elamie. With its drone came a force that stayed Wylan’s hand in mid air. Bringing his other hand up to the sword’s hilt, he pulled with all his strength to fight the unseen force that he knew she controlled. Her cry cut through the air shattering both the force and drone, violently flinging him away from the beast.

Finding himself sitting on the ground, Wylan shook his head to clear away his shock over what just happened. His eyes darted to the elamie. What he saw tore through his very being. She laid curled up on her side, her back to him…weeping?

Going slowly to her, he stood behind her expecting another attack. From a tied elamie? Had he imagined what had just happened? “No!”

Kneeling down beside her, Wylan drew her onto her back. Brushing the curtain of hair away, he exposed the river of tears glistening her honeyed cheeks. No longer did she look proud and arrogant, but like a young child. She was young, he did not realize how much so. The feathery tips of black lashes struggled to open as if a heavy weight held them down. “Please, can you bury him? A friend should not be left to be torn apart.”

Did she not know what she’d done? It was her force, he was sure of it. A sorceress? No, she would have killed him. Wylan had much to learn about this particular elamie. “Tell the beast to behave and I shall spare his life for your promise to behave.”

Through half closed eyes that wanted to widen in surprise she answered. “Thank you.”

Did the exhaustion, he saw and sensed in her, come from using her powers against him? For now, she was no longer the troublesome elamie of moments ago. Releasing her ties, Wylan gathered her up in his arms, carrying her over to the beast. “Elamie, can you stand?”

“Yes.”

A touch of her remaining pride gave the skeptical answer. Lowering her feet, Wylan held her until she seemed capable of remaining upright. “Tell him, I will release him.”

“Do not draw your weapon, he will not listen.”

Wylan understood what she didn’t say. The beast would protect her as she had him. It was a strange relationship. He could be making a mistake, but he decided to take the chance. He let her go to the beast, stopping himself from reaching for her when she practically fell on the great red bulk.

“Rolley, my dear Rolley, be a good boy and let the male live.” Even through the haze surrounding her, she knew the one called Wylan was listening. Looking into the Kaymog’s large brown eyes, she wasn’t sure if Rolley understood, nor if she wanted him to. She felt too strange and weak to sort out her thoughts. “Please be good.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the large hand beginning to unravel the cords about the drawn claws. The gold hairs on his large forearms glistened under the sun. Her hands pressed into Rolley’s chest to still his struggles. “Easy boy, you’ll soon be free.”

Those same large hands lifted her forcefully away from Rolley as he came to life under the fury of being held captive too long. A great rocking roar filled the air, raising even Melane’s hairs on her neck. When the great red beast lunged forward, Wylan pulled her back behind him. Only her hand covering his own prevented him for drawing out the sword.

“Rolley! Stay!”

The beast fought against the elamie’s order, rocking his great form to control the vicious rage leveling against Wylan from those enormous eyes.

“Stay!” Melane knew Rolley was too angry to listen. Stepping before the male, she pushed his hold away. “Bad boy, down before Melane! Now Rolley, down!”

Amazingly the animal seemed incapable of disobeying the girls command. He looked pathetic bent over before her, but releasing his humor over the scene was forbidden. Wylan brought his attention back to her in time to see her stagger under an alarming wave of weakness. As soon as Wylan touched her, the beast started to rise.

“I…Rolley, no. You must help me mount, then get on behind me. Once you’re on, take the reins, he will try to unseat you. If you fail…don’t.”

She sagged in his arms, ending his arguments before they started. Lifting her, Wylan placed her on the round back, gaining his own seat just before the beast rose. Only his strength kept him from falling. Grabbing the reins he cursed the situation he found himself in.

“Alright beast, a war I will wage if you insist, but she has no strength left to stay my hand this time.” To enforce his threat, Wylan dug his heels brutally into the beast’s flanks and jerked the reins in a firm hold towards his camp. The beast moved begrudgingly, snorting his protest. Wylan had good cause to believe his control was only because she rode before him within his hold. He’d not turn his back on either stranger now in his midst.

After deciding an amicable truce had been drawn between rider and beast, Wylan shifted the elamie into a more protective hold, preventing the limbs from whipping her. His concern for her well being increased when he realized it was not an exhausted sleep she’d fallen into, but that she was unconscious. He urged the Rolley on. The unexpected rush of speed took his breath away. The surprise would have been exhilarating at any other time. Now he was only grateful that the beast made the distance in record time.

Because of the elamie, Wylan dismounted without thought, taking her to the fire. Settling her into the bed of furs, he stirred the coals until they caught and flared. With no fresh game to cook, he put last night’s quib stew back on to heat, along with a kettle of water. He needed to get some nourishment into her and decided to see what she had in the sacks on her saddle.

It wasn’t until the great hulk reared up before his approach that Wylan remember the deadly threat. Holding back from drawing his weapon, he stepped forward. “Down Rolley! Now!”

The beast had more intelligence than he had ever encountered in an animal. Wylan was relieved to see he also had a dose of common sense or fear. “Down boy.” When he dropped, Wylan didn’t hesitate, knowing the animal was capable of sensing his wariness. Taking the sacks off the saddle, he moved to release it from the animal for the night. When the horned head turned in his direction Wylan gave him have a sharp blow between his eyes. “I’m not the elamie, beast. You’d best learn that soon enough.”

Pulling the heavy saddle away, “Go and guard your mistress, and let me tend her. Go on, get!” Wylan’s scolding earned a low snort from the retreating Rolley. “You’re as arrogant as she is.”

Her stores lent little more than his own. The only surprise came in a large sack of dried leaves. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, he crushed a few into the steaming water for a tea. Holding her head, Wylan forced the strong smelling brew past her protesting lips until she took a full cup. Doing all he could, he sat back and waited.

She didn’t look real, lying there with her black waves spread out over the furs. The brew had a calming effect on her, making her breathe deeper as if in a healing sleep that even allowed him to relax. The events of the day replayed in his thoughts as he watched her. Soon Wylan’s lips lost their frown to a pleased smile. “You’ll raise many an eye when we reach Moondock.”

Remembering her cutting remark about his intelligence over her lack of a protector, after everything else she had done today, he almost believed her. If there weren’t anyone to challenge his claim, he would only be out a good fight. What did concern him was the possibility she was as she stated. “Never claimed before?”