The King's Executioner (2 page)

Anin was too tired to go any further and with light soon fading to darkness, it was better she sought shelter. She had hoped to reach her mother’s people, the Lammok, before it turned dark, but her gait had slowed, her legs finally protesting the days of endless walking. She hoped she had enough strength to secure herself a safe spot to sleep. If she began her journey when the sun rose, she would reach the Lammok village by the time the sun was high in the sky.

She surveyed the area with a keen eye. The forest could be welcoming, but when the light faded it could turn dangerous and being alone made her all the more vulnerable. Of course asking the forest creatures for safe passage always helped and since her journey thus far had been without incident, she believed they were looking after her.

With a tilt of her head and turning slowly, she finally found what she was looking for, a tree that would cradle her safely until the sun rose once again. She went hunting for the vine that clung tenaciously to certain trees and, once found and gratitude given, she cut a long piece with the small dagger she kept in a sheath on the belt at her waist.

It was not difficult for her to throw the vine over the lowest branch that was too high for her to reach and use both ends to work her way up the tree and settle herself in the crook of two thick branches after curling up the vine so that she could use it to get down on the morrow.

The leaves were just beginning to turn so they were still plentiful on the branches and hid her well. No one would know she was there and with a gentle hand pressed against the rough bark she asked the tree spirit to keep her safe.

Before it grew too dark, she peered past the branches to take one last glance over the surrounding area and to make sure she was alone. She smiled when she spotted a nearby stream, pleased that she would be able to wash up and look presentable when she arrived at her mother’s village.

Her green, soft wool cloak served as an excellent blanket and juniper berries in the pouch at her waist would sustain her until morn. She had collected them along the way during the day so she would be prepared if she did not reach her mother’s people by night. Once she arrived at the Lammok village, she would be fed well by her mother’s two sisters.

A lone howl had her pulling her cloak tighter around her and had her wishing she was home tucked safely in her sleeping pallet. She missed her mum and da terribly and even her four brothers who could torment at times and be much too protective at other times. But she loved each and every one of them.

She had always thought that one day she would join with a man of her tribe or a neighboring tribe and live a good life with him and with her family nearby. She never imagined or desired to go to the center of the Pict Kingdom—Pictland—home of the ruling High King and away from all that was familiar to her.

When word arrived that King Talon had chosen her to be his wife, it had been received with mixed feelings by all. Her father had seemed proud that she had been chosen to be Queen to King Talon. Her mother had been shocked and insisted no such union would take place. Her four brothers, Forgan, Reid, Turcan and Hance thought it splendid, seeing the benefits it would bring them having their sister as Queen.

After a fairly short time, it was apparent to all that no amount of talking with her mother would change her mind. She insisted that Anin would not wed a man who would dictate to her. That Anin’s life was hers to choose. While she had never seen her da dictate to her mum, she was aware that some tribes gave their women little freedom while in other tribes the men and women were equal and still other tribes, like her mum’s tribe the Lammok, the women were warriors and allowed no one to dictate to them.

Her father had come to her and asked her to help him make her mother see that the decision was final and no amount of arguing would change it. Anin’s mum refused to listen to her. And it had not helped that her mum had known that Anin was not pleased with the King’s edict. After all, her mum had promised her that she could wed a man of her own choosing, the way of the Lammok Tribe. Anin wished that could be so, but when the King commanded his people obeyed. When her mum insisted that she leave and seek shelter someplace safe, Anin knew what she must do.

She would go to Lammok village and wait there for the executioner, accepting her fate, for he was not a foolish man and would surely track her there. She wished the King had sent someone else to collect her. The executioner was known to instill fear on sight and she was already apprehensive enough with the prospect of being King Talon’s wife.

The executioner was one of the King’s most trusted warriors and could chop off a person’s head with little effort or reason and the King would praise him for it, or so she heard. Though, she told herself that she had no worry as long as she went willingly with the executioner. What truly should concern her was wedding the King. But then, it was in fate’s hands and fate would have her way. She always did.

Fatigue took hold and soon Anin fell into a deep sleep not waking until well after the sun had risen and to a disturbing sound. She shook herself fully awake as silently as she could, not wanting to alert anyone or anything to her presence.

The sound came again and she realized what it was. It was splashing water. Someone or something was in the stream. She carefully leaned forward to take a look, fearful of what she would see.

Her hand flew to her mouth to stop the gasp that rushed past her lips. A man, completely naked, stood in the stream, the water hugging his legs past his ankles. He was made of solid muscles that rippled over wide shoulders and ran down along his back to grip at a taut backside. The muscles continued down his long legs and while it was quite amazing to gaze upon such a sculpted body, it was his body drawings that utterly mesmerized. With the exception of his face, they appeared to cover his entire body. Never had she seen such drawings. They curved and arched and turned with his every movement. It was almost as if they were weapons ready to strike at anyone who dared to touch him.

He turned, and she quickly slapped her other hand over the one already covering her mouth. Symbols covered the front of him as well and she was not quite sure where to settle her eyes first or was it her curiosity that had her glance settling between his legs? While symbols circled and spread out around his manhood, it was not covered with any. He was quite a size for not being ready for coupling and she was surprised at the sudden thought as to how large he would grow when ready to join with a woman.

The women of her mum’s tribe were warrior women who expected their men to be as strong as them and when the women gathered together they would often talk of a man’s coupling abilities. So, Anin was well informed of what she should expect from a man and what she should give in return.

It was odd that she should have that thought now and quickly looked up at his face, and her eyes turned wide. Never had she seen a man with such startlingly fine features and such bold green eyes. He ran his fingers through his dark wet hair, cut short at the top and sheared at the sides. He swiped the beads of water roughly off his body and walked toward the tree she sat in. She eased her hands off her mouth and sat completely still. Hopefully, he would slip his garments on and leave or else she would be stuck there until he did.

It was when he stopped beneath the tree and reached for his garments on the ground that fear squeezed at her insides and a chill settled over her. A black wolf sat at the trunk of the tree, a battle axe lying next to him.

“The King has sent me for you.”

The executioner had found her.

“When I finish getting into my garments, I will get you down from the tree.”

Startled, she quickly pressed herself against the tree, whether for protection or to hide she did not know. Neither, however, would serve any purpose. There was no hiding from him and his powerful size made her think that he could simply shake the tree and dislodge her.

He was there to collect her and that was what he would do. Had she not been waiting for this moment when she would meet her fate? She sat gathering her courage and wondering when he had arrived. And how had he found her? No one knew where she was going. Looking down at the black wolf staring up at her, she got her answer. The animal surely had tracked her.

Since he seemed not at all bothered by his nakedness, she wondered if he was from the Drust tribe to the north. They were the fiercest of the Pict tribes and the ones who covered themselves completely with body drawings. They wore little to no clothing particularly when they went into battle and were victorious more often than not. With the journey to Pictland taking a good six or more days, perhaps she would find out.

Anin pressed her hand against the tree, asking for courage to face her fate. She felt a tingle run along her am and pleased that the tree spirit had answered, called out, “I can get down myself just have the wolf move.”

“Did you not hear me? I will get you down.”

A shiver ran through Anin, his strong tone a command that was meant to be obeyed. Why she did not do as he said, she did not know. Or was it the thought of being caught in arms that brought endless suffering too frightening a thought?

“I am ready. Drop down and I will catch you.”

Anin grabbed onto one of the branches and leaned over, sticking her head past the leaves to look at him. She was met by bold green eyes glaring back at her. She hurried to speak before she lost her courage. “You cannot mean that.”

Paine had long ago stopped feeling. It was what made it possible for him to torture and kill without regret. That was why he did not understand the sudden catch in his chest when he stared at the soft blue eyes wide with surprise that glared at him.

He nearly snarled at her when he said, “I always mean what I say.”

Anin persisted. “I can climb down.”

“You will drop down.”

“You might not catch me.”

“Stop talking nonsense and drop down out of there right now,” he ordered sharply.

“And if you fail to catch me what then will you tell the King?” she argued.

“How did you get up there?” he asked annoyed at being questioned. No one ever questioned him. They simply obeyed or suffered for it.

Anin was quick to get the curled vine and show it to him.

“And how would that help you to get down?”

“I will show you,” she said, not wanting to drop down into his arms. She wrapped the vine around a branch and let the rest fall to the ground. Before she could take firm hold of the vine and lower herself, he scaled the tree with the help of the vine, slipped his arm around her waist, yanked her against his hard chest and lowered them both down.

“Listen well, Anin,” he said, not letting her go once their feet touched the ground. “You will do what I say when I say it and without question. Do you understand?” She stared at him as if from a distance, her hand resting against his chest. Even through his tunic, he could feel her warmth and gentleness. The top of her head had barely reached his chin when he had taken hold of her and his arm had gone a good ways around her waist, she was so slim. And her breasts felt ample crushed against his chest. He grew annoyed at his thoughts and gave her a shake when he should have given himself one. “Do you hear me?”

She jumped as if startled and quickly nodded.

“You will follow my every command?”

She nodded again.

He let her go, grabbed his battle axe, and said, “Stay close.”

She obeyed without question and fell in step behind him while her thoughts drifted back to when she was young. One day her oldest brother Forgan had suffered a bad wound to his leg while practicing with a spear. One of the wise women had been tending him when Anin entered the room. She walked over to him and with concern placed her small hand on his arm to comfort him and tell him all would be well. As soon as she touched him, she started crying and telling him how sorry she was that he was in such terrible pain and how he should not worry that da would not be angry with him if he shed tears. She had felt his awful pain and his worries and had spoken them aloud.

Her mum had grabbed her arm, squeezing it hard, and rushed her out of the room and told her never to do that again. She had not even known what she had done, but her mum had been so angry with her that she had given her word on it. It was years before another such incident happened again, but that time she wisely remained silent. It took a few more such incidents for her to realize that there were times when she touched people she could feel their pain, worry, or joy. She dared not speak a word about it. She was much too fearful of what people would think.

Meeca, the wise woman, had tried, through the years, to speak to her about the incident with her brother, but Anin would say nothing. She had wished that whatever it was it would go away, until finally she realized it was part of her and she would never be rid of it. So, she found a way to cope with it and discovered that at times it not only benefited her, but others as well.

Never, though, had she felt what she did when her hand came to rest on the executioner.

The memory of it had her steps faltering. She did not want to think on it and never did she want to feel it again.

Emptiness. Nothingness. Hollow.

It was as if he was dead and still walked amongst the living. What caused a man to feel nothing, care for nothing? Had he made so many suffer and taken so many lives that life meant nothing to him anymore? She would be wise to remember that such a man was dangerous and she would be wise to never touch him again.

After feeling as if she was running and could not take another step, Anin stopped and called out, “You need to slow your pace; I cannot keep up with you.”

He stopped, turned, and walked over to her.

“Your name is Paine, is it not, at least that is what my mum told me,” she said through heavy breaths. She did not want to continue to think of him as the executioner and calling him by his name would help with that.

“My name does not matter. What matters is getting you to the King and if you think slowing us down so that your mother’s tribe can help you escape me, it is a foolish thought. I will slay anyone who attempts to take you from me.”

Anin believed him. “I know I have no choice but to go with you and I have no choice but to wed the King. And my mother’s tribe does not even know I am here.”

“Then why do they follow us?”

Anin quickly glanced around, but saw no one. That meant nothing, though, since Lammok warriors were good at blending with the forest.

“There are two and they have followed us since shortly after you left your nest in the tree.”

Anin shook her head. “No one knew I was coming here.”

“Your mother knew.”

“Did you harm my mum?” Anin said, anger making it sound more like a shout. She had thought his wolf had tracked her and that he had never bothered with her mum.

“It was not necessary. When we spoke she told me where you went without knowing it herself.”

“You would have harmed her?” She did not know why she asked, she knew his answer.

“I harm if I have cause to harm. You would do well to remember that.”

“You would harm me, the King’s future wife?”

“No, but I would harm anyone who tries to take you from me, including family or friend.”

An icy chill settled over her. She would never want to see another suffer because of her. She quickly shouted, “He knows you are here. Show yourselves.”

Paine glanced around as he said, “Bog, guard!”

The wolf took a stance in front of Anin, bared his teeth and growled in warning.

Anin was surprised to see her mum’s two sisters, Socha and Cara step from behind bushes on opposite sides of the path. The only body drawings the Lammok wore were arm bands that dominated both arms, the more armbands the more skilled the warrior. Socha was one of the very few Lammok warriors whose shoulder was covered with a band. It signified the highest skilled warriors in the tribe. The arm bands also announced them as Lammok warriors. They were both tall and regal in stature. Long, soft dark hair was the mark of the Lammok women and it was worn intricately braided and secured to the back of the head when they went into battle so it would not hinder them. They wore it that way now.

Surprised at seeing them and shocked that they appeared ready for battle, Anin said, “How did you know I was here?”

Socha, the oldest of the three sisters stepped forward. “Blyth sent word of what was happening and suspected you might come our way. She asked that we watch out for you. We see that we were too late, unless you tell us otherwise.”

Leave it to Socha to be the wise one. She always gave thought and sought a solution to a situation if there was time and Anin was relieved until Cara spoke up.

“Why should she be forced to wed the King? The only thing he wants from her is for her to breed as many sons as possible. He could care less for her.”

“Watch your tongue,” Paine warned sharply. “You speak of the King.”

Socha shook her head at her sister and kept her voice calm when she looked to Paine and spoke. “We have great respect for the King. His uniting of the tribes saved many lives.”

“And caused too many to start blending. Anin should be a full bred Lammok like her mum.”

“Silence your mouth, Cara, for you speak unwisely. Lammok women choose their husbands, whether they be from the Lammok tribe or not. It is might and courage we look for in a man and Blyth found it in Cathbad of the Girthrig Tribe, and they have done well together.”

“Yes, Blyth has done well because she found a mate her equal. Anin is no match for the King.”

“Cara!” Socha snapped and sent an angry glance at her sister.

Cara ignored it. “I speak the truth whether you want to hear it or not. Blyth is right not wanting Anin to wed the King. He is of superior strength and courage while Anin,” —Cara looked to Anin— “you will never match your mum’s strength never mind the King’s. And he will discard you without care or thought as he did to his last two wives.”

Anin had always thought her mum’s people did not feel her worthy of being a Lammok, but this was the first time anyone spoke of it to her. She went to speak, but Paine spoke before she could.

“You better hope she has the strength to go with me and wed the King, for if you try to stop me from taking her I will slay the both of you and leave your bodies in pieces for the forest creatures to feast upon. And from what I know of your burial ritual—you must die whole—that would mean once dead you could never move beyond.”

Cara’s dark eyes widened in fury and she went to take a step forward.

“I go with Paine willingly,” Anin shouted. “I will be King Talon’s wife.”

Cara looked as if she snarled when she turned to the executioner and said, “Were you given that name because of all the pain you bring people?”

Paine stepped toward her. “I took that name so people would know what to expect when they meet me. Shall I show you?”

Anin hurried to say, “We have a long journey ahead of us. We must be leaving. Stay well, Aunt Socha and Cara, worry not about me, and please let Mum know I made this choice willingly so that she does not do anything foolish.”

“Stay well,” Socha said.

“Stay strong,” Cara said, though with little faith, and the two sisters disappeared into the forest.

Without a word to her, Paine began walking and she obediently fell in step behind him, Bog trailing behind her. Hearing Cara, the youngest of her mum’s sisters say openly what Anin had felt for some time weighed heavily upon her. It also made her wonder if her mum thought the same of her. Was that why she had sent her away? Did she believe her daughter too weak to wed the King? Was she disappointed that she had not grown as tall and strong as a Lammok women or that she was not nearly as skilled with a weapon as they were even though she had tried desperately to be as accomplished as her mum.

Perhaps becoming the King’s wife would show her mum that she did not lack strength or courage. She only hoped it would be so.

The day wore on and so did their steps. They had not stopped once to rest or take nourishment and if they continued this endless pace, Anin was sure that she would simply collapse. She was about to call out to Paine and let him know that she needed to rest when he suddenly stopped.

She sighed with relief.

“You have no more than a few moments.”

Anin walked to a tree, sat, and rested her back against the tree trunk, wishing she could remain there much longer than only a few moments. Her glance went to Paine as she ate the last of the juniper berries she had in her pouch. He stood with his back to her, looking out across the stretch of rocky land they were about to cross. She was not familiar with this area, for they had left Lammok land some time ago and there was never any need for her to travel this way.

Paine turned and Anin was surprised when he walked over to her and sat to rest against a tree not far from her. He closed his eyes and that pleased Anin, since it meant they would sit and rest a while longer.

His battle axe remained in his hand, though it rested at his side ready to strike if necessary. The twin edges of the blade appeared well tended and terribly sharp. Though, it would be the strength of the blow that would bring a lingering or swift death, and the thick muscles in his arms were proof that he could easily deliver a swift death.

Bog suddenly appeared and stretched out in front of them. Never had she thought a wolf could be tamed, but Bog obeyed Paine’s every command. They were a strange pair, wolf and executioner, and she wondered how they came to be.

Paine opened his eyes to see Anin staring at him and she did not look away when his eyes met hers. He was once again captured by the soft blue color of her eyes. There was gentleness to them and deep warmth that invited. She had lovely features, creamy skin, and a body that would be pleasing to touch.

He felt himself stir and hurried to stand and turn his back on her. She was the King’s intended and he had no right to think such thoughts. What troubled him even more was that he even had such thoughts about her. He took a woman when he felt the need, but rarely did a particular woman stir him.

He turned to face her and felt it again as he looked upon her. His body stirred, his manhood beginning to swell and once again he turned away from her, silently cursing himself.

This would not do. He would get her to the King and be done with it. He heard her struggle to her feet, but he would not turn and help her. He would not touch her. He would not think about her.

“Bog, watch,” he commanded and the wolf took off.

“Where does he go?” Anin asked curious.

“To do what he is told as should you,” Paine snapped and started walking.

It was going to be a long journey with him ordering her about. Anin once again followed behind him relieved the brief rest had helped some. She was also relieved that Paine continued to temper his pace.

As the day wore on, the sky grew increasingly cloudy and a chill filled the air. Travel was slower than before due to the rocky terrain. She had almost fallen twice and each time she had cried out, Paine had turned and admonished her to watch her step. The third time she righted herself quickly and kept herself from crying out. She would not have him reproach her again.

Suddenly a lone, mournful howl filled the air and Anin followed Paine’s lead and stopped along with him. It seemed as if he waited for something, and then it came again, another mournful howl.

Anin was shocked when Paine grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder and took off running. Her insides tightened with worry. Something was wrong, terribly wrong for him to do this. His grip felt like a metal shackle, he held her so tightly and his speed was far faster than she thought possible, especially with her as an added burden.

She raised her head, her body tensed, and she bit back the scream on her lips. Nearly naked warriors, body drawings covering their entire bodies were rushing toward them. They were Drust warriors. But what were Drust doing this far south? She jumped when they began to scream like evil banshees.

“How many?” Paine shouted.

A quick count had her saying, “Six Drust warriors.” She gasped. “And they draw their bows.”

Paine ran faster and the arrows fell short of reaching them.

He stopped suddenly and dropped her off him and as she scrambled to her feet she realized why. He had made it to the edge of the woods. They would have cover here. He grabbed her arm and hurried her over to a large tree and hoisted her up to the lowest branch.

“Grab on,” he ordered.

Anin struggled to do as he said the branch not easy to reach. She felt his hand at her bottom and with one hard shove she was up on the branch.

“Go higher and hide.” With that he moved away from the tree and raised his battle axe ready to fight.

Anin made her way to a higher branch, finding a spot where she could watch what went on below without being seen. How could one man defeat six warriors and Drust warriors at that? They were one of the fiercest warriors. And again she wondered what they were doing in this area, and why they were attacking them.

Her eyes turned wide when she watched Paine knock two arrows out of the air with his battle axe and what followed next astounded her. With swift and precise blows of his weapon, two Drust warriors fell. Paine grabbed one of the fallen warrior’s spears. Four warriors descended on him and she feared for his life. Suddenly, out of nowhere Bog appeared, taking one warrior down, his fangs buried in the back of the warrior’s neck. In quick succession, Paine downed two more warriors, one with his weapon and the other with the spear while the last warrior went for Bog, spear in hand. Bog was faster. He launched himself at the warrior, his mouth closing around the wrist that held the spear. The warrior delivered a hard blow to Bog’s side, but the animal refused to let go of him. Before he could deliver another stinging blow, Paine brought his axe down on the warrior.

Paine stepped around the fallen warriors and over to the tree, resting his battle axe against the side. “Hurry and drop down,” he called up.

Anin hurried to the lower branch and looked down.

He held out his arms. “We have no time to waste. There could be more warriors on the way. Trust me. I will catch you.”

Anin had no choice. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped off the branch.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Anin did, his blue eyes staring back at her and his strong arms tight around her.

“You are safe with me. I will always be there to protect you and catch you when needed.”

A flutter settled deep inside her and without thinking she rested her hand to his chest and said, “That is truly kind of you.”

He stared at her a moment before saying, “I am not kind. I do what the King commands.” He placed her down on the ground and hastily grabbed his battle axe. “We must go and keep a fast pace.”

Anin had many questions on her mind, but she knew now was not the time to ask them. Besides, something else troubled her. Something she could not speak with him about. Though, she asked with concern as he hurried her away, “Is Bog well?”

“He has suffered worse. He will be fine.”

She looked at the wolf that had once again taken a position behind her and said, “You are a brave one.”

His response was a low growl.

The pace that Paine set was far faster than she expected, but then the prospect of more Drust warriors attacking them kept her going without complaint. She thought or perhaps hoped there would be no time to think, but she was wrong. She could not stop her thoughts from drifting to what she had felt when she had foolishly rested her hand to his chest.