Dark One Rising (31 page)

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Authors: Leandra Martin

Tags: #Fiction & Literature

BOOK: Dark One Rising
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He wanted all of a sudden to kiss her lips. “I don’t think you need much in the way of looking after, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Well, you have at least allowed me to let my hair down and forget, if at least for a few hours, that I’m being hunted by a scoundrel that wants to own me. Besides, I haven’t had such pleasant company on a day into town in a very long time.”

He bowed to her. “My pleasure, Your Highness.”

She looked away from him and started clapping with the music. She was smiling so big, and her emerald colored eyes sparkled whenever she turned her head toward him. Her curly red hair held streaks of gold that glistened from the rays of the sun. He was enraptured. He watched her move and couldn’t help but stare. She was so beautiful, her body curvaceous and sensual. Her down to earth attitude made him feel completely carefree himself, and he found himself tapping his own foot now to the music. He hadn’t felt so alive in someone else’s presence in many years. He felt his heart melt with the sound of her voice, and he wanted so much to be closer, not just physically, but emotionally. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted her to keep talking, about anything and everything. He had never wanted to be that close to anyone, and the thought not only excited him, but frightened him as well. He could very easily see himself being captured indefinitely by her radiance.

They spent almost the entire day shopping, eating and dancing. He allowed her to lead the way, going wherever she felt inclined to. He enjoyed watching her flit from one place to another, a spring in her step and a smile on her face.

As she was distracted by the music and dancing, he slipped away from her for a few minutes, going over to the forge. He stepped into the dark hot building and moved closer to the ferrier. He made sure he could still see her from where he stood. He yelled over the noise of the hammer striking anvil. “Ho, Gardan.”

The ferrier stopped his hammering and looked up. “Your Majesty, what brings you into town?” he asked, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, then wiping it on his apron.

“I have company staying with me for a time, and I’m entertaining for the day. Anything strange happening around here lately? Any strangers nosing around?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Had a couple of sailors from Seabrook looking for supplies to repair their mast lines, but other than that, all is quiet. Why?”

“I need to know if you notice anything strange, anyone asking too many questions. Can you send a messenger if you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“Of course, Sire.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything for His Majesty,” Gardan said, bowing.

Dain left the forge and returned to the square, just as the musician was ending his session.

As the afternoon started to blend into evening, they gathered up the wares they had purchased and paid the stable hands for the watch of their horses. They mounted and passed by the gate a couple of hours before sunset.

She was dusty and tired but was saddened by their departure. It had been a long time since she had been escorted into town and allowed to have free reign. She went into Kingswell often, but always by herself, and it was nice to have the company.

They rode side by side again, Dain’s men behind them, the dry road kicking up dust as they moved along. She was sitting up straight in the saddle, humming a low tune to herself. He could hear it, but not enough to recognize it.

“That song you hum, what is it?”

“An Elvin lullaby that my nanny used to sing to me when I was a small child. It’s about a faerie who is called upon by an evil witch. The witch wants the faerie to grant her the gift of beauty so that she can mesmerize a man of her choosing into falling in love with her. The faerie tells her that she cannot gift her with outer beauty because she has no inner beauty. The witch becomes enraged at being refused, so she puts a hex on her. The faerie is turned into a human and given an ugly appearance to match that of the witch. She would stay that way until a man fell in love with her inner beauty and chose to ignore what was on the outside. If she found a man who fell in love with her, she could turn back into a faerie, or stay human and lose all her powers. She would have to make the choice to either stay human and ugly or turn back into her original form. She was human for thousands of years until she met a young man who had been scarred from a fire. He was burned trying to rescue his lady from the flames, but, after seeing what he looked like, she shunned him for his hideousness. The faerie and the man fall in love, both anguished by what they looked like, but saw past that to what was inside. The faerie, after the man tells her of his love and devotion, decides to trust him and tell him the truth about herself. But the witch had tricked her, and as soon as she revealed her real self to her love, she turned back into a faerie
and
lost the magic she once had. The man, devastated about losing his love, jumps into the river and is never seen again. The faerie, after losing her love and her ability to grant wishes, is sad and searches for him. To this day the faerie roams the forest near the Xanthe River searching for her lost love and agonizing over her useless life as a powerless faerie. His anguished cry can be heard in the rapids if you listen closely enough.”

He stared at her. “That’s a terrible story to tell to a small child.”

“It is, isn’t it? Well, it’s sung in Elvish so it does lose some of it’s meaning in translation. The tune is lovely though.”

“Yes, I suppose so.

“It does put quite a damper on the idea of finding true love.”

“You don’t believe in true love?”

“You mean a love with someone that would die for you? I would like to. But I think men and women are more interested in the intrigue of the hunt. They see it as a game to see who can gain the most out of it. Women have no say in the choosing so they use whatever powers they have to charm and seduce in order to gain the most. Men see women as merely conquests, and as they tire from one, they move along. I don’t think anyone knows what it means, or how to obtain and keep it.”

He frowned at her. “I had no idea that you were so jaded.”

She shrugged. “It has kept me from being with someone that I would be miserable with, someone whom I would not love and who wouldn’t love me. It has kept me from a life of loneliness with another person. Until now that is. I suppose I would’ve saved myself from this problem if I would’ve chosen somebody, anybody.”

“I don’t think that choosing just to be free of bondage from another is the right answer either. Besides, I don’t think the duke would have seen a husband as an obstacle.”

She glanced at him. “Do you believe in true love, Dain?”

“I’d like to. I think my reputation will haunt me forever and keep me from finding it, but one can still hope.” He smiled genuinely.

“One can indeed.”

They rode along further in silence, then as the sun started to drop toward the horizon, he pulled off the road to take a quick rest and let the horses drink. He slid off his mount and held out his hand to assist her off hers. He led the horses toward a small stream that wound its way along the roadside. As they were drinking, he stretched and she sat down in the soft stream side grass and removed her boots. She wiggled her toes to loosen them, stood again, walking to the waters edge. She dipped one toe tip in to test the temperature, then stepped off the bank into the cold water. She inhaled a breath, then sighed with contentment as she splashed around.

“You’re going to freeze them off in there.”

“It’s cold, but it’s refreshing for the body and the soul. Why don’t you try it yourself?”

“You want me to kick off my boots and splash around in the stream?”

“Why not?”

“What would that look like to my men? The king prancing around bare footed in the stream next to a lady?”

She smiled at him playfully, goading him in a challenge. “Well if you’re too embarrassed, I certainly understand. If I were the king, I for one would hate for anyone to think that I knew how to enjoy myself and let my hair down once in awhile.”

He scoffed. “They already know that I know how to do that, more than I should. It’s what has tarnished my reputation thus far.”

She smiled again. “Well I don’t see any ale here, or wanton harlots, and you cannot possibly impugn my honor with nothing but your bare feet. Taking a dip in a stream will not get you drunk or bedded, but it will cool you off and wash some of the sticky dust that has built up from an afternoon on the road.”

He stared at her, mouth practically agape, then he let out a huge guffaw. “Well, you certainly have a way of putting things into perspective.”

“It is what it is, Your Majesty. Your horses know what it means to cool off, so should you.”

He looked over at his bay and her mare, sloshing around in the creek. He smiled at her again. “Well then, since you put it that way.”

He sat down on the bank and proceeded to pull off his boots. He stepped into the water without so much as a toe tip and wiggled his toes in the frigid refreshment.

“Now doesn’t that feel better? All that grime just washing away.”

“I don’t know, does it?” He kicked his foot and splashed water all the way up to her neck.

She stood there in shock from the blast of cold for a moment, then looked over at him, lips pursed, eyes squinted. She reciprocated with a splash of water of her own. His brocaded red velvet doublet spotted with water, and he flipped his damp hair back away from his face.

He peered at her under dewy long eyelashes and smiled playfully. “You’re awfully bold, Your Highness. Too much more and you could be conceived as an usurper.”

She smiled at him and laughed, kicking her feet more and dampening the front of his hosen and face now. He tried to shield his eyes from the onslaught but was instead dampened some more, a trail of cold water sliding down the back of his doublet and running down to his waist.

“Do you yield?”

He whipped his hair back again and smiled at her with all his straight teeth showing. “I surrender, My Lady.” He bowed with a flourish.

“Good. Feel better?”

“I’m not sure. I seem to have water running down in places I will not mention in mixed company.”

She laughed again, sloshing through the slow running creek and slogging back onto shore. She rubbed her feet through the thick riverbank grass to dry them and plopped back down onto the ground to replace her boots.

He shook himself out some more and followed suit, choosing instead a stump. The two men in Dain’s company approached them; one of them cleared his throat. “Your Majesty?”

Dain paused while pulling on a boot, trying to make it slide on over wet sticky skin. “Yes, Malak, I know. It’s getting late. We should be on our way. We were just now coming along.”

Malak bowed to his king and went to round up the horses, who wandered a bit too far while unattended. She finished pulling up her second boot, just as he was pulling up his. She stood, brushed herself off and readjusted her wet blouse which had come untucked during play.

Malak brought the horses to them, and Dain offered to lift her into the saddle. She put her foot in the stirrup and lifted herself up quickly and skillfully. He opened his saddle pack and pulled out a light woolen cloak, handing it up to her.

“Here, put this on. I would hate for you to catch the sniffles from being too cold and wet. Alek would have my head for allowing you to catch fever.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well since it is I that takes the risk of getting an earful, I insist.”

“Very well.” She threw it over her shoulders and tied the strings at her neck. “Feel better now?”

“Yes, that’ll do.” He nodded his head and got onto his own mount.

The sun was setting now, the orange and reds streaking across the sky, the wan twilight starting to cast shadows on the thick stand of trees. They started on their way again, this time, his men riding in front to watch the road ahead.

They were quiet for a few minutes then she asked, “What’s the story between the two of you?”

“Alek and I?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “He worked for my father before he died. Alek’s father worked for him before that. He was the Captain of the Guard for many years. He died from the infection of a severed limb after battle. Alek was only a few years older than I was, and I was still a boy. When Alek was old enough, my father put him into his ranks. Alek was too restless there. He instead chose the life of a Bounty Hunter. Not a glamorous life by any means, but he was good at it and loved doing it. I think being cooped up in the castle made him crazy. It was peaceful then, no battles to wage. He liked riding across the kingdom much more. I didn’t see much of him after he took that job on, but we somehow managed to stay friends. When my father passed away, Alek felt it was his job to keep me out of trouble. With little success of course. He continued to be in my service. I can only imagine what I’ve put him through all these years. He and Emerick are my only real friends.”

“I guess I know what it feels like to be restless. That’s the reason I do the things I do. I hate being locked away. I need freedom to fill my soul. Kevaan is my closest friend, except for Lucan who works in the stables. If it weren’t for him, I would never know anything that goes on. Being a woman, the affairs of state, or anything else, are not my concern. I would always be in the dark if I didn’t have him to whisper with.”

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