Dragon Defense (Heirs to the Throne Book 3) (11 page)

The doctor’s party fell into line behind Salizar, and he failed to notice a small Samurai woman join Tamarind’s guard.  Salizar scrutinized the walls surrounding the shrine but saw no breach in the solid rock.  How did sorcery accomplish such a thing? 

*****

Through half-lidded eyes Lauryn observed her companions.  Dr. Alexander enjoyed the heat of the desert, jotting notes about plants and animals that survived on sun-baked planes.  The Samurai women rode in a pattern designed to protect Tamarind, watching the countryside for problems.  The desert riders rode with easy grace and unconcerned expressions but kept hands near their weapons.  Andrew rode tall in the saddle, as his body melded with Tempest’s gait.

Lauryn assumed a similar posture, kept quiet, and observed.  She never realized men held themselves different than women.  Even the Samurai women displayed a body language of their own, part soldier, part female.  Postures reflected attitudes.

The Samurai women, who learned the skills of warriors, moved with fluid self-confidence.  A deadly soldier did not need to struggle for identity, so a Samurai dressed in comfortable clothes and carried weapons specifically designed for her physique.  The Samurai attitude reflected freedom and skill.

No wonder desert riders feared them.  When she got home she’d study their skills and self-assurance.  If men feared women who acted confident, Lauryn wanted to be that kind of woman.  For this journey Lauryn adopted the posture of a man as part of her disguise, but later she’d embrace a different persona.

Dr. Alexander rode at her side.  “Are you doing all right?”

“Yes, sire.  I aim to please.”  Lauryn kept her voice soft and the timbre low.

“You look comfortable in the saddle.”  Dr. Alexander said, “I hope you can keep up the act while we’re inside the desert stronghold.”

Lauryn forced herself not to smile, afraid of appearing too female.               “How long before we reach Asbohar?”  She changed the subject.

“Salizar claims we’ll see the glory of the sacred city in two days time.”  His voice mimicked the rider.  Then he became serious.  “Watch for signs of contamination.  The plants and animals of this region may suffer from radiation poisoning, so don’t consume anything except the supplies we carry.”

“Yes, sire.”  Lauryn’s eyes darted toward the pack animals.  “Do you think we’ll have enough supplies for the whole trip?”

“No, but Maggie’s sensitivity to radiation will steer us to purchase uncontaminated supplies.”  His light eyes met hers, and she felt worried. 

“Alex, don’t take on the pain of your patients alone.  Chella taught me to share the burden.” 

He gave her a tight smile.  “I’ll deal with it when it comes.  I wish we could cure what we find.  This backward planet can’t deal with massive radiation poisoning.  We must pinpoint the problem and curb the contamination before it spreads.”

Lauryn remembered the shiny suits and equipment stowed in their packs.  The ban against technology branded such items unlawful.  How could Dr. Alexander use banned equipment to save lives on a world that feared technology?

Tamarind trotted her horse and joined the doctor.  Lauryn let her horse drift back to avoid the woman.  “Pray good doctor,” she murmured in silken tones.  Tamarind only used a syrupy voice when she wanted something.  “Please ask Salizar to give us a rest.  My health might suffer if I can’t refresh myself.”

The doctor smiled.  “Sorry, my dear, Salizar already refused my request a few moments ago.  He claims we’ll stop at a lovely little oasis.”

Tamarind’s eyes narrowed.  “I see no oasis and I’m tired!”  All the sweetness left her voice.  “My father will be displeased when I arrive at his palace worn and filthy.”

Dr. Alexander shrugged.  “Salizar knows this terrain, but I can give you a shot of vitamins to buoy your energy.”

“Shot?”  Her voice sounded shrill.  “You mean with a needle?  No, I need only a bit of rest and refreshment.  I don’t need a shot!” 

Salizar drew near and heard her dismay.  “Oh, I’m sure the doctor knows the proper treatment for what ails you.”  Salizar enjoyed her discomfort. “He’ll give you medication to sustain you, and in a few hours you’ll bathe in the tranquil pool of an oasis.” 

“It won’t hurt a bit.  I’ve a vial in my bag right here.”  As Dr. Alexander reached for his kit, Tamarind spurred her horse with such energy that the animal bolted.

Tamarind screamed, grabbing the flying mane of the frantic animal to keep from falling.  Salizar sprang into action.  His horse responded to pressure from his knees while the Samurai watched from their quiet mounts.

The strides of the long legged desert steed gained over the pounding gate of the fat gelding Tamarind rode.  With the calm assurance of an expert horseman, Salizar plucked the princess out of her saddle and swung her body across his saddle in one easy motion.

Tamarind clung to Salizar’s muscular neck with tears on her cheeks.  He stroked her hair like he comforted a child but the hand lingered on the curve of her neck and slid down her side.  He felt the swell of her breast under hungry fingers.  Pounding hooves reminded him of his duty, and Salizar positioned his hand loosely on her waist.  He waited for the other riders.

Tamarind adjusted her veil. “My father will have you killed for touching me like that!” 

His lips tightened into a line, and his eyes flashed with anger.  “Next time I’ll let you break your foolish neck,” he growled. 

Tamarind slid down from Salizar’s horse and allowed Dr. Alexander to give her a sip of potion to calm her nerves.  While Salizar caught the stray gelding, Lauryn noticed a flicker of fear in Tamarind’s eyes as the girl looked at Salizar.  Was she afraid of Salizar or herself?

As the archery contest started, Catherine was in her element, surrounded by admiring suitors and the center of attention.  She dressed in vest and pants of rust-colored velvet, cut to emphasize the curves of her figure.  A peach-colored shirt and shoulder length red curls were fastened by sparkling jeweled clips.  Her sleek bow and leather wrist guard were dyed to match her outfit. 

Mandrake stood in the crowd.  He traveled especially to watch his student shoot against the young lordlings.  He taught Catherine during a sojourn in her father’s castle, and he secretly chuckled at the possibility of watching her defeat pompous brats.

Tessa and Josh spoke in conspiratorial tones and kept out of Catherine’s way.  They hoped Catherine wouldn’t learn their plan before it was too late to back out.

The contestants lined up, practicing, when Catherine saw a tall man glide onto the field, an elegant figure dressed in black silk and a mask.  Her eyes widened as he bowed and pressed her gloved fingers to his lips.  His blonde hair rippled in the breeze and his startling blue eyes held hers for a moment.  He whipped off his cape and sauntered to the practice field. 

Catherine tried to unravel the identity of the masked archer.  She glanced at Tessa and knew something was up. Tessa looked smug. 

The masked archer strung a longbow, nocked a shaft, and let the arrow fly.  It missed the bulls-eye and Catherine smirked, sure of herself once more.

The first event of the competition was a simple target shoot.  Catherine scored 140, Brandon scored 135, Ross scored 115, Josh scored 125, and the masked archer scored 150.  Anyone scoring under 100 was eliminated.

Catherine watched the masked archer with concern.  Large and muscular, he moved with the confidence of a soldier.  His longbow measured almost six feet, requiring exceptional strength to handle, yet he pulled it easily.  His clean shots arched at just the right angle for each distance and Catherine felt a flutter in her breast.  Did she feel fear, jealousy, or desire? 

The next event was archery golf, consisting of nine “holes” over various terrains.  Each archer shot an arrow from a “tee,” and subsequent shots from the spot it landed until hitting a white ball suspended eighteen inches above the “hole.”  The lowest score won the event.

Catherine felt confident.  She nocked an arrow, anchored the serving high against her cheekbone and let the missile sail.  The arrow hissed toward the first hole, arching high, and stuck in the ground at a good distance.

The masked archer took a stance at right angles to the target and pulled an arrow from his quiver.  He tested the balance, sighted down the shaft and blew against the black fletchings.  He nocked the arrow and anchored it near his right eye.  Muscles bulged beneath his shirt as he pulled the string and leisurely sighted.  With a loud twang the missile whistled through the air and hit the small white ball with the first shot. 

Catherine’s stomach tightened as she felt the archer’s cold blue eyes stare at her.  Why would he compete for the honor of accompanying her to the dance if he disliked her so?

The rest of the event followed in the same way.  The masked archer hit each target while the others grew progressively worse.  The masked archer won the event. 

Tessa hardly restrained a giggle as Catherine’s face turned crimson.  She said, “I proclaim you the winner of the archery contest and my companion for the ball.  May I have your name, sire?”

“No, you may not.  I shall unmask at the ball.”  Young ladies nearby sighed with envy as he swept past them.

Catherine stood speechless.

Overcome by giggles Tessa whispered, “He’s doing a great job, Josh.  I didn’t know anybody could shoot like that.  He’s as good as Mandrake.” 

“He certainly enjoyed himself.”

“Who is he?  I’m dying to know,” Tessa asked.

“The secret shall be revealed at the ball.”  Josh grinned darting away from her flying fist.

Tessa squealed as she chased him.  “Josh, please tell me.”

“Not until the unmasking at the ball, he made me promise.”  Josh chuckled as she tackled his legs and the both fell.

“It’s my idea so tell me!”  She tickled him.

“I don’t betray a friend’s confidence.”  Josh tickled her back and soon they rolled down the grassy hill laughing until his knee banged Tessa’s chin.  Blood poured from her mouth. 

“I’m so sorry.” He tore a piece from his shirt and gave her the fabric to stanch the flow of blood.  “I’d never hurt you on purpose.” 

“Fetch the healer,” someone yelled.

Josh ran like the devil.  He returned with Lance, who frowned as he examined the wound.  “Let’s get her to the medical tent.”  They carried Tessa to the tent but the jostling made her gasp with pain.

A small crowd gathered and Tessa blushed.  “It’s not serious,” she mumbled.  Lance’s frown silenced her. 

Josh hovered until Lance settled Tessa on a cot and shoved the boy out the door.  “She’ll be fine after I treat the wound.”

Tessa winced as Lance removed the blood-soaked cloth from her face.  It throbbed, and she felt dizzy.

Lance smiled.               “Lean back and stay quiet.  My patients never feel a thing, I promise.” He applied a salve with a gentle touch for such a large man and gazed at her with soft hazel eyes.

Tessa felt a throbbing in her chest that had nothing to do with the wound.  Heat radiated from his touch, and Tessa’s fingers gripped the crystal in her ring without thinking.               

Lance stiffened and pulled his hand away in surprise. 

“I’m sorry, Lance.”  Tessa mumbled and unclenched her fingers from the crystal. 

“Sorry?  I felt a powerful surge of healing magic, just as you touched your ring.”  He eyed the stone.  “Is it a talisman of power?”

“I don’t think so.  The stone helps me focus and enhance my abilities.”

“Could we try it again?”

Tessa curled the fingers of her ring hand over his.  A surge of power flowed through them, and she felt his mind.  His eyelids flickered as energy entered his body and touched her lip with his other hand.  The wound stopped bleeding.

Tessa’s heart fluttered.  She wondered if he sensed her feelings, and felt grateful the ancestor voices remained silent.

*****

The royal ball would be the social event of the season.  Although she was stuck with the masked archer as an escort, Catherine was determined to learn his identity.  She’d turn it to her advantage at the right time.  Dressed in an emerald green gown of shimmering satin, she admired her reflection.  She’d captivate the young men at the ball and her dance card would be filled.  Music filtered up the circular staircase as she floated down. 

Felesia was dressed in a gold velvet brocade to accent her tawny hair.  Catherine felt a twinge of jealousy as she looked at her cousin.  The feeling passed when Felesia turned her soft hazel eyes and uttered an exclamation.  “Oh, Catherine you look so beautiful!”

“Thank you!  You look special, Felesia.  Quite an improvement on your usual attire,” Catherine said.

“I’d rather dress in leather and feel comfortable,” Felesia grumbled.

“Jordan will be overcome by your beauty, and we’ve got few opportunities to dress up.”

“I feel like I’m playing make believe.” 

Catherine smiled.  “Did you see Tessa?  She wore a sky blue gown that floated like a cloud.  Josh called for her and blushed when he saw her.”  

“When does your escort arrive?”  Felesia asked.

“I don’t know.  It’s poor form to delay so long.  I’ve a mind to withdraw my promise,” Catherine huffed.

“Oh!  They’re here.”  Felesia heard a sharp rap at the door.  “Should I answer or call the servants?”

“Let the servants answer and don’t appear anxious,” Catherine advised.

A maid rushed down the stairs in a flutter and ran to the door.  Jordan entered, followed by the masked archer.  Felesia smiled at the astonishment on Jordan’s face.  He bowed and presented her with a nosegay of bright yellow flowers.      

“You’re breathtaking!” he said.

She curtsied.  “Thank you, milord.”

Catherine eyed her escort, dressed in a rich brocade jacket of gold over a field of black.  His boots were polished to a high sheen, and a jeweled sword hung in a golden scabbard. She could see his blue eyes twinkle behind the mask.  A golden cape billowed as he bowed from the waist and presented her with an exotic flower.  Its golden petals arched delicately away from a black center and a sweet scent suffused the room. 

“In my land such a flower is worn behind the left ear of an unmarried girl,” he said.  “It clips onto your hair.”

“What a delightful custom,” Felesia said.  She helped Catherine attach the flower.  “It looks fantastic.”

Although enchanted by the flower and her escort’s elegant manners, Catherine remained wary.  “It’s not a costume ball, milord.  Would it not be wise to remove your mask?” she asked.

“At the right hour, milady.”  His cool gaze made her nervous.

“As you will,” she said. 

“Shall we go?”  Catherine slipped her hand over the soft fabric and felt his muscle tense with her touch.  As they walked through a maze of corridors, the only sounds were the click of boots on stone and the swish of Catherine’s dress against his jacket. 

Felesia and Jordan followed at a discrete distance, talking quietly and ignoring the silent couple.

*****

Tessa waited in the ballroom, her palms sweating.  “Why don’t they get here?” 

“He’s eager to manage the timing,” Josh said, sounding impatient.

“There they are!” Tessa grabbed Josh’s arm.  “He looks so mysterious!  Everybody’s watching and Catherine looks furious.”

“I passed the word.  No one will sign her dance card and she must dance every dance with him,” Josh said.

“Good!  Catherine will never forget this ball.”

“Let’s dance and enjoy the spectacle.”  Josh took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

“When will he unmask?”  Tessa asked.

“Midnight,” Josh said.  “It sounds more dramatic.”

“Catherine will be biting heads off by then.  Look at her face!”

“It’s priceless.”  Josh grinned.

Tessa giggled.  “She’s waiting for gentlemen to sign her card and no one comes forward.  This is choice, Josh.  You’re so clever to think of that idea.” 

Catherine and the masked archer watched the dancers float past while she fingered a blank card.  She saw Tessa giggle and realized it was an elaborate joke, perpetrated by her cousin.  She decided to enjoy herself.  “Do you wish to watch or would you rather dance?” she asked her companion.

He glanced down.  “I thought you wanted to fill your card,” he said.

“Didn’t you know?  My card filled when you won the tournament and the entire evening is yours.”  Catherine noticed a flicker of surprise behind the mask.

“Let us dance, milady.”  He slipped the cape from his shoulders, took Catherine’s cold fingers, and led her to the dance floor.

Catherine’s performance was worthy of an award.  She smiled radiantly as she swirled to the music in the arms of the masked archer.  By all appearances, she enjoyed the best night of her life.  They danced beautifully together; his sure step matched hers with precision.  Dance after dance the smiling couple became the center of attention.

“Something’s wrong,” Josh said.  “I’m getting glares of hatred from my friends. Catherine enjoys herself too much.”

“It’s an act,” Tessa said.  “She discovered our plan and wants to make us look bad.”

“I’d better soothe a few feathers,” Josh muttered and led Tessa to a chair.  “Do you mind?”

Tessa shrugged.   “I can see from here.”  Josh left, and Tessa’s heart fluttered when she saw Lance approach.

“How is my patient?” he asked, looking at the small bandage. 

“It’s fine.”  She started to touch the wound, but Lance caught her hand.

“Would you care to dance?”  He pulled Tessa to her feet and her stomach tightened as they walked onto the dance floor.

Krystal watched the drama unfold.  She understood Tessa’s scheme within minutes and waited to learn how Catherine responded.  “Donovan, there may be hope for your cousin, Catherine.  She’s behaving beautifully.”

“What do you mean?  She danced with that masked ruffian all evening. Why doesn’t she accept other invitations?”  Donovan asked.

“Tessa arranged a plan to teach the girl a lesson, so gentlemen avoid dancing with Catherine,.  This may teach them both a lesson.” Krystal noticed disgruntled expressions on the faces of young men she recognized as Catherine’s suitors.

Donovan groaned. “I don’t understand women!  Lauryn takes off against my will, and Felesia convinces you to join her on a trip to the seaside.  Now you claim Tessa and Catherine are at each other’s throats.  I thought girls were supposed to cause less trouble than boys.”