Dare to Defy (15 page)

Ilesbet expelled a breath of air, her body trembling as the image of Ethan’s slaughter, and the details of his insanity, was delivered to her. Günter held her tightly against him, stroking her raven hair.

“Shhh, ‘tis only a dream.”

“No, it was not. He is coming. His mind is crazed and he will be calling upon the forces of darkness. I fear we have no time to prepare for him, Günter!”

“The gods…”

“Require worship to survive. He is eliminating their worshippers in order to weaken them.”

Günter remained calm despite the pounding of his own heart. “How did he know to do that? It must be incidental, my love. Trust me when I say that all will be well. He will be stopped. Kres and Ran have already set plans for protecting the people and the lands, and Daynel…”

“Is a child and cannot handle the responsibility she will be given!” Ilesbet snapped. “Draiken will not be able to wield his power without her at his side. Ethan is being advised from some dark force. You must stop him!”

“Ilesbet, look at me. You gave the instructions that I was not to interfere or pursue him, else we would lose to his evil. Has that changed?” He forced her to meet his eyes.

“Günter, you don’t understand. He will…”

“Until the gods direct me to intercede, I must be obedient. Call the order together and plan a festival.”

“What? Are you mad? We are about to be entered into a war!”

“Trust me, Ilesbet. The people need no reason to celebrate life but for the gift of life itself. Let us remind them of the blessings we share and join all together in joyous worship and abandon. The heart and prayers of a joyful worshipper are much stronger than those of a frightened or desperate one.”

Ilesbet looked at him doubtfully, her still tender backside reminding her of his position in her life as both a wife and priestess. She tipped her head in mute agreement and silently slid from the bed. Günter grimaced at the long, red welts still present on her bottom. She would not be spending much time upon her horse that day.

“Would you like me to accompany you to the temple?” he asked, sitting up in bed. Ilesbet turned to look at him, studying his strong, hard chest, arms, and shoulders. His body was designed for warfare and for making love, and she felt a stirring of desire for him. But, alas, it would have to wait.

“I must go to the grove and seek direction.”

“May I join you?”

Ilesbet appeared startled with the question. Except for the times when she required pain to be given Sight, he had not ventured into the sacred glen. His offer brought both joy and fear to her heart. Joy that he would present his prayers to the gods, accepting them in fullness, and fear that he was doing so because he realized the futility of their situation. She nodded and stood numbly as he quickly clothed himself. He slipped a simple linen gown over her head and tied it at the waist with a hemp rope. He handed her a white veil and smoothed it over her face as she secured it over her head. The garb would ensure that none would stop her progression to the cove. She was dressed for sacrifice, although neither knew what the gods would demand.

Barefooted, Ilesbet padded through the stone hallways, pausing only to touch the heads of their youngest sons.

“Where are you going, Father?” the five-year-old asked, clutching his nanny’s hand.

“Mother and I have to speak with the gods about some important things, my boy. Including how to keep you from stealing pastries from the kitchen,” Günter smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“How did you know?” the child asked in awe, unaware of the raspberry smear on his cheek.

“The gods see all. Why don’t you and Nanny gather your brothers and take the day to give thanksgiving, instead of lessons,” Günter said, eyeing the old woman carefully. She nodded her understanding.

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Highness. And we could picnic as well!” she suggested, receiving an approving nod. The child started to clap excitedly, for picnics were grand adventures and always meant plenty of pastries.

“To be a child again and have things so simple,” Günter said to the silent woman as he led her to the stables. Firestar snorted upon seeing them, lowering himself to kneel as Ilesbet touched his muzzle. Günter lifted her astride his broad, flat back and positioned himself behind her. They clutched his long mane as the huge animal raised himself from the ground and tensed to run.

“Slow, my friend. We will not unsaddle the lady today,” Günter said, patting the horse’s neck. Firestar snorted again and trotted smoothly outside the corral and onto the cobbled road that led down into the village below. The town’s people bowed as they passed.

“As always, they present themselves to you, Priestess. Your followers are strong. They will stand tall for you. You must trust me in this.”

Firestar balked when he had reached the boundaries of the sacred grove, refusing to venture further inside. Unlike the groves he had entered with Daynel, these were forbidden to the beast. Günter lifted Ilesbet to the ground and watched as she shed her clothing and walked into the thicket. He stepped after her, head held high as he challenged the watchers of the grove to stop his entry. Ilesbet was already upon her knees before the altar as he trudged through the heavy vines, resisting his desire to raise a blade to them. He knew his presence was neither invited nor welcomed in this place, but Günter was not going to falter in his purpose. He laid his sword upon the altar and knelt next to his wife, joining her in prayer.

“The gods will be angry,” Ilesbet whispered, her eyes not leaving the Runes carved into the wooden pole before them. “You are not permitted here.”

“Then let them be angry. They have enough wisdom to know that I am an ally, and the guardian of the priestesses. I do not fear them. Now, if you would please return to your practice of silence, I would like to pray,” Günter commented. Ilesbet grunted and placed her hands upon the pole, singing the incantations of her faith. She frowned as an icy breeze swirled around them, stirring up dust and leaves from the ground. She stood quickly, huddled in Günter’s arms.

“What’s happening?” he asked, guarding her naked body from the flying debris.

“I don’t know! This is not the work of the gods!” Ilesbet yelled as the wind grew louder as it raced through the grove. Günter snatched her in his arms and ran, ducking to avoid a large branch that whipped over his head. He crashed through the viny veil that guarded the entrance and skidded to a halt. All was quiet with Firestar grazing contentedly on a bush.

“Ilesbet, what in the name of the gods happened in there?”

“Evil had entered the grove. Darkness…Günter, we are in great danger. This could only mean that those who worship the Darkness are in our lands.”

“How do we find them? Answer me!” He shook her, trying to get her to focus on his questions.

“I do not know. I…I am cold. Please, dress me and take me home. I need time to think.”

* * *

Daynel awoke to discover that she had slept curled in Draiken’s large arms, huddled next to his naked body for warmth. Naked? Her curiosity piqued as she studied the sleeping giant beside her. His form was true to the men of the north. Tall, broad, solid in form, and riddled with sinew. Like Ilesbet, he had raven blue-black hair, yet his skin was darkly tinged with a bronze glow and completely free of the coarse hair that the men of her tribe tended to sport. She found that odd. Günter was one of the few who refused to wear a beard, and that was because Ilesbet complained about the discomfort it caused her. Draiken, however, showed no evidence that he shaved. He was simply hairless over the entire length of his body except for that of his head, eyebrows, and lashes. Lovely, long, pitch-black lashes that framed deep, wise violet eyes. Eyes that Daynel could be lost in if she allowed herself the luxury of staring into them for too long. His teeth were a shocking white in contrast to the darker tone of his skin and his lips were full and soft, giving way to a charming smile that Daynel found difficult to ignore.

Draiken took for granted that his charms were not wasted on the young woman. During the first week of her stay with him, he had seized every opportunity to catch her unaware with his smile. Each instance, Daynel seemed startled and then quickly colored a bright pink. He found her blushes delightful and sought often to finds ways to bring color to her cheeks.

His body urged him to find reasons to bring color to her nether cheeks as well. He longed to hold her helpless across his long lap and place shades of pink and red to the sweet, pale globes that would dance and jiggle under his hand. He did not question his longing to spank her, for the act in itself was pleasurable to him, but he also knew that her pain brought pleasure to the gods. He would have to bring her to the place of Sight soon, but feared the condition of her broken limb would not allow him to do so properly. She had submitted her bodily functions to him, still demanding privacy and suffering humiliation, but he wanted more from her. He wanted her complete trust and confidence. The gods urged him to be patient, but Draiken’s greatest flaw was his lack of such.

“I wish you to take me to the top of the mountain this day,” Daynel announced loudly, poking the man’s arm with a finger. “And why are you in bed with me? I did not give you leave.”

He opened one eye. “I missed sleeping in my own bed, Princess. Nor do I require your permission. Now be silent, I wish to sleep longer.”

“Is this what is it like to be old? To sleep the day away?” Daynel taunted, feeling particularly spritely that morning. Her arm no longer ached and her ankle had healed well enough to allow her to walk short distances.

“Do not vex me. I have no humor in the morning hours,” Draiken grunted, rolling over and showing her the expanse of his broad back. Daynel gasped, seeing the tattoo imprinted upon his skin. Dark blue and purple webbed wings marked the length of both sides of his back with their tips dipping past the band of his hips. Down the center and along the length of his spine were the Runes of protection and power, etched to resemble an external skeleton of shimmering scales. Within the wings were written the Runes for flight, and the elements of the earth. Daynel’s hand shook as she reached to touch where the wings appeared to protrude from his flesh—the artistry so amazing that she had prepared to feel the bends of bone and scales. His skin shivered under her touch while she traced the outline of the magnificent artwork. They appeared so lifelike that she was disappointed that they did not have physical structure and bulk, like the wings she had touched in her dreams.

Her eyes traveled south to admiring the massive muscles of his buttocks and girth of his thighs. She traced her finger along the crevice between his cheeks, watching as his skin grew bumpy in response. With a grin she flattened her hand and began to stroke the soft skin of his cheeks, enjoying the feel of his flesh and the warmth of his body. Draiken groaned, rolling to his back.

“Woman, I beg you. Allow me to sleep. I was up past the time of the morning star and only just now came to bed.”

“Perhaps you should have considered either sleeping elsewhere or with clothing on,” Daynel said boldly, studying the pale marks upon his chest. These were different, almost invisible to the eye. Tiny brands were burned into his flesh over the length of either shoulder, and more Runes were carved into the muscular curves of his pectoral muscles. Her eyes traveled to his stomach, the outlines of his muscles clearly defined through his skin and emphasized with a tattoo of the priesthood. The triskelion of the three-headed dragon adorned his abdomen with beauty and grace, symbolizing the core of strength rested in the Three. Finally, his large member lay sleeping, unbothered by the girl’s curiosity.

“Draiken? What exactly is the Three? Ilesbet and Baldric told me that Günter was the Guardian of Three but would not reveal to me what that meant, other than looking out for the priestesses.”

“You will learn in time. Let me sleep.”

“How much time do we have before Ethan goes after my kingdom out of revenge? Wake up!”

“Child, I promise you that if you disturb me one more time, you will be sitting on a very sore bottom. I will not speak to you again. Sleep.”

Daynel grunted, crossing her arms with annoyance. She waited several minutes for his breathing to become even and slid from the bed. With some difficulty, she pulled a cloak over her nightdress and tiptoed outside of the room. She had not left Draiken’s chambers since her arrival and she had no sense of where to turn in the dark halls of the priest’s temple. She practiced Günter’s methods of tracking—keep turning right and one would never get lost.

After over two hours of wandering, Daynel promised herself to personally tell Günter what she thought of his technique. She was lost somewhere in the expanse of a huge, dark structure with no sense of direction, and no outside windows to guide her to the light. Her ankle ached from walking upon the cold, hard stone and she felt chilled as she realized there was no source of heat in the underground caverns. She attempted to retrace her steps, taking only turns to the left so that she would find a way back up to ground level or perhaps find someone who could direct her. Oddly enough, she saw few doors or hallways, and no living souls. She shivered when she noticed, after all the time had passed, that the ways were lit by blazing torches that gave off light, but no heat. What was this place?

“Oh, my gods,” Daynel muttered, dizzy with confusion, “why have you stricken me with having such an independent and stubborn spirit? I need your help.”

She did not expect a response, so the silence that followed her prayer only forced her to venture further down into the bowels of the temple. Just as she was ready to break into frustrated tears, the path ended with a large, wooden door.

She pounded on it, but so thick was the wood that she made no sound. There was no handle or hinges, only markings carved deeply into the wood grain.

“What do you want from me?” she asked the gods, slumping against the door. “You already know that I dare defy anything put in my path, and that I question all things told to me. You chose me knowing that I would not be an obedient servant to you. I don’t take pride in these things,” she spoke aloud, “they are just part of who you created me to be. Of course, you
would
allow me to reach a door that I could not pass, just to taunt me! Are the gods like my brothers, who delight in teasing me?”