The Dragon's Lover (10 page)

She took the flask and took a deliberate, thoughtful
drink. Not too long, which would be greedy. Not too short, which
would be insulting or cowardly. But the perfect drink which
indicated her appreciation of the gesture and her savoring of the
liquor.

“Ah,” she said with satisfaction as the warmth spread
through her cheeks. “This must be from the flatlands. I can taste
the anise.”

Lorifal was impressed. Both by her knowledge of the
liquor, which was a special brew, and by her ability to consume it
without reaction. Most humans and in fact a good many dwarves,
would have choked or even collapsed writhing on the ground from the
alcoholic content in that drink. She merely settled back into her
pack, a look of contentment on her features.

Surprisingly, it was Elyara who gained the courage to
ask anything of Raine. She was thankful that the woman had thought
of her protection in the battle.

“And how is that the wolves obey you?”

A short laugh came from Raine. “Oh, they do not obey
me. They do exactly as they will.”

“Then how is it that they follow you?” Elyara asked,
unwilling to let the matter rest.

Raine hesitated, reluctant to disclose much of
herself. But sometimes the truth was so unbelievable it would most
likely be taken as a lie.

“I came across a wolf in a trap in the forest. It is
the typical story, I freed him and in gratitude his kind follow me,
offering me companionship and protection.”

Feyden cocked his head to one side skeptically. “The
wolf spoke to you?”

“Yes,” Raine said without much elucidation, “he
did.”

“What kind of wolf?” Elyara persisted.

“A very large one, one whose shoulder stands higher
than the head of a man.”

“You are talking about Fenrir,” Elyara said in
astonishment.

This drew everyone's attention. “Fenrir” was a forest
deity worshiped by the wood elves, one of the immortals who
generally manifested in the form of a wolf. Although the sons of
men had a different, more ominous belief about Fenrir and his place
in the Aesir hierarchy, the elves believed him to be a neutral god,
capable of both good and evil depending on his whims.

“How could Fenrir be caught in a trap?” Elyara
asked.

Raine thought back to the incident which was now
almost 200 years past. The gigantic wolf had been trapped in a web
of spells and magical totems, creating an almost impenetrable
tangle of sorcery. It was only due to one of her unique abilities
that she, and only she, was able to free him.

“It was a very complicated trap,” Raine said, knowing
she could never explain and unwilling to do so even if she could.
She abruptly stood. “I am going to stretch my legs.”

It was obviously an excuse as all they had been doing
for days was “stretching their legs.” Lorifal nodded as she left.
He didn't care if she told outlandish stories or not, Raine was his
new drinking companion. Dagna started to urge her to take more of a
weapon than the dagger at her side, then held her tongue. Raine
probably didn't even need the dagger. All watched as the woman
disappeared into the night. Each was occupied with their own
thoughts. Finally, Dagna leaped to her feet.

“I should take her a sword,” she said.

“Yes,” Feyden said drily, “why don't you go do
that?”

Dagna blushed at her transparency but did not care.
She followed Raine into the night as Feyden turned his attention to
Idonea.

“Does she use magic?”

“You mean Raine?” Idonea asked.

“Yes,” Feyden said, “I have never seen anything like
what I saw today.”

Lorifal agreed, nodding sagely into his flask. “I
have never even heard of anything like I saw today.”

Bristol propped his chin onto his fist. “I'm not even
sure I could dream of what I saw today.”

The matter had occupied Idonea's thoughts all
afternoon. “No, she is not using magic. In fact,” she said, turning
to Elyara for confirmation, “strangely I do not sense any magic
around her at all.”

Elyara nodded. “It is strange indeed because she
seems the most magical of creatures.” She blushed at her own
characterization.

The pronouncement relieved Feyden. Although he
traveled in the company of two mages, one who professed to dark
magic, he disliked it intensely. Although he was still uneasy about
Raine, he was pleased to know she did not practice the black arts.
It made him even more curious about her unusual abilities.

Dagna entered the campsite, the quickness of her
return indicating her lack of success with Raine. Idonea smirked,
although she was slightly disappointed. She would have enjoyed
holding the infidelity over Raine's head as the woman was proving
to be irritatingly perfect.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Idonea said
sarcastically.

Dagna seemed oblivious to the sarcasm as she was
stunned by what she had just seen. She had not been rebuffed by
Raine because she had not even dared approach her.

“She is already fast asleep,” she said, her voice
filled with wonder, “surrounded by her wolves. And she is lying
curled up with her head pressed against the largest wolf I have
ever seen.”

CHAPTER 7

The band continued and for a few days the mood
lightened. They were still days from the more difficult part of the
journey. Lorifal was quite taken with Raine and was content to
chatter at her side despite her minimal reciprocation. She did
occasionally laugh at his jokes, which was all the encouragement he
needed. Elyara watched with interest as Bristol attempted to
romance Idonea, who seemed to vacillate between minor interest and
minor annoyance. Elyara thought that Idonea would probably bed the
knight in a heartbeat; Idonea just did not want the resulting
emotional entanglement. Elyara felt that Idonea would be better
with Gunnar who had a similar temperament and they could just have
sex. Elyara then wondered why she was spending so much time
thinking about everyone else's business.

That did not stop her, however, from watching Dagna
as well. The bard was clearly enamored with Raine despite no signs
of interest from the other woman. Raine was ineffably polite but
did not offer the least bit encouragement. Elyara thought perhaps
some open discouragement might be in order, but maybe Raine was
just too courteous.

Feyden kept to himself but Elyara noticed that he
often fell in beside Raine. The two were about the same height, had
a similar build, and had the same length in stride. They even moved
very much the same, with the athletic grace so characteristic of
the Alfar. Although the two rarely spoke, there seemed to be a
growing level of comfort between them. Elyara was a little envious
over the fact that Raine moved more like her people than she did as
Elyara tended to be more awkward than most elves.

Elyara, ever observant, noticed that Raine had been
glancing toward the sky on a regular basis. Once again she saw the
gigantic hawk that she had seen before and wondered if there was
some sort of communication passing between the two. Raine began
scanning the land in front of them, and Elyara grew nervous.

“What do you see?”

This question caught the attention of the others and
the band slowed as Raine continued to scan the valley in front of
them. “I don't see it yet,” she murmured.

She came to the edge of the small cliff they were
walking along and knelt down. She looked for even the slightest
movement that would betray the presence she was looking for. Feyden
knelt to her right, also scanning the forest below. Elyara kneeled
to her left, for some reason holding her breath.

“There it is,” Raine said, nodding.

Feyden looked in that direction, but even with his
exceptional vision he saw nothing. Then a slight movement caught
his eye.

“Hyr'rok'kin,” he muttered.

“Yes,” Raine said quietly, “probably a scout. I
imagine they're out looking for us after our little stunt at
Vicar's Pass. I am guessing his troupe is not far.” She glanced
over at the elf. “Can you hit him from here?”

Feyden looked at her in disbelief. She was talking
about a distance that was twice his normal range. “No,” he said,
“not a chance.”

“Hmm,” she said.

Gunnar and Bristol kneeled behind them on the cliff
edge. Feyden was by far the best archer so they themselves had no
chance of striking the target. Lorifal didn't even carry a bow.
Bristol turned on his haunches to speak to Idonea, who had also
lowered herself to hide. Unfortunately, in his heavy armor and
awkward position, he lost his balance and fell against Gunnar, who
tried to regain his balance by reaching for Lorifal, who had a low
center of gravity and maintained his position but slightly bumped
Elyara from behind. But Elyara was leaning precipitously over the
edge, trying to see what Feyden and Raine were looking at, and the
gentle bump was enough to send her pitching headfirst over the
edge.

Or she would have had Raine not reached out and
grabbed her by the back of the collar, hauling her forcefully back
with incredible strength. Elyara's feet kicked the air before she
was grounded once more, but the maneuver dislodged the loose shale
at the cliff's edge, which then went clattering down the side of
the mountain. The Shard scout glanced directly up at them,
startled, then turned to run.

Raine muttered an ancient profanity and stood
upright. She pulled the bow from her back, snapped the limbs into
place with a violent twist of her wrist and pulled a long arrow
from the quiver with her other hand. In a fraction of a second, the
arrow was notched. She took aim as she drew the powerful string
back, and let loose the arrow with such force it slit through the
air in a blur. It flew impossibly true, striking the fleeing Shard
square in the back and causing him to go down in a tumble of limbs.
A second arrow flew just as quickly and just as accurately, this
one impaling him through his throat and ensuring his death. The
prone figure twitched a few times, then went still.

“By the gods,” Feyden said, looking from Raine to the
dead Shard who was little more than a speck at this distance, then
back to Raine again. “By the gods,” he sputtered.

Lorifal gazed at the weapon and the person who had
unleashed it. In a way, this feat was just as unlikely and
unachievable as the decapitation of the Marrow Shard, the skill
just manifested in a different way. Raine kneeled back down and
motioned for them to be quiet. She wanted to make certain that the
Shard had indeed been alone and that no others had heard the minor
avalanche they had caused.

“Sorry,” Bristol said under his breath when Raine
indicated they were clear.

“Mmmm,” Raine said in response, although it was
difficult to decipher exactly what that meant. She did not appear
to be angry, however, and her demeanor appeared as unruffled as
always. Bristol wondered if anything was capable of agitating her.
Events that would send most into all sorts of emotional states
barely seemed to register on her.

“May I see your bow?” Feyden asked.

“Of course,” Raine said, handing the weapon to him
carefully. “The edge is quite sharp, so be wary.”

Feyden examined the beautiful weapon with great
interest. He had eyed it curiously from the first day Raine had
joined the band. It was as much a work of art as weapon, appearing
very ancient but in immaculate condition. He could see the latch on
the riser that would release the tension, allowing the bow to be
folded in thirds once more. And he could see why the folded
position was necessary. The leading edge was so dangerously sharp
it could easily slice through someone's hand. It also made carrying
the weapon much easier. But he had no idea how she had deployed the
bow, snapping it out to its full length. It was a long bow and the
entire weapon was very tight and taut. It seemed the force required
to complete such a task would render it impossible. He handed it
back to Raine.

“I have never seen a weapon like this.”

“It was my father's,” she said.

He watched as she skillfully folded it into its
retracted position. “It is not a weapon that allows any room for
error,” he commented.

Raine grinned. “I try not to make any.”

The twinkle in her eye caused a slight tug in
Feyden's chest cavity. It was a most extraordinary sensation,
somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. He was going to have to be
careful or he would start mooning over this one like that foolish
bard. Still, it was a comfort to him to admit he was starting to
admire the young woman. She really was quite amazing.

“Thank you,” Elyara said, finally recovering her
breath, “you are very strong.”

“I couldn't have you bouncing down the side of the
cliff and giving away our position now, could I?”

Elyara blushed at the teasing and Raine turned to
Gunnar. “I am not sure where that scout's troupe is, but we may
want to camp here and descend through this pass when the sun is
fully on this side of the mountain.”

Gunnar glanced to the sun that was getting lower in
the sky. “That is a very good idea.”

Despite the near disaster earlier in the day, the
mood around the camp was relaxed and jovial. Raine, as usual,
seemed lost in her own thoughts and did not engage much in the
conversation. Dagna was explaining to Lorifal and Elyara why she
had left the Order, specifically that she had great difficulty with
the vows of celibacy. This caused considerable merriment with that
small group, which drifted over to Gunnar and Bristol while Idonea
and Feyden looked on with mild disdain. Apparently the
encouragement she was receiving emboldened Dagna and she addressed
Raine across the campsite.

“And is there no one special for you, Raine?”

The group fell silent as the answer to this question
was keenly anticipated. Half just wanted to know anything about
Raine, who had thus far been nothing but circumspect. The other
half had some vested interest in the answer. Idonea was quite
interested in what Raine had to say whereas Feyden doubted that she
would respond at all. She was silent for so long it appeared Feyden
would be correct when she raised her eyes slowly to the group.