Sarey shook her head. “No. You cannot leave until . . .”
“I can tend to Donne’s wound. We will leave your hamlet upon sunrise.”
“No, you mustn’t take Donne away,” Sarey tried to express her opposition without pain and pleading in her voice, but it was inevitable. Caen couldn’t possibly dress Dawn’s wound without discovering who she really was.
Caen looked at her questionably. “What interest have ye in my squire?”
“None, other than to help heal his wound.”
“It’s more than that. Your actions betray you.”
“I have no romantic affection toward Donne, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Then why lock the bathhouse door?”
Sarey sighed. “Donne made the request. For privacy.”
“For privacy?” Caen stared harshly into Sarey’s eyes. The look was more accusatory than speculative.
“I have no interest in Donne in the way you’re alluding to,” Sarey said. Anger tinged in her voice.
“He is a boy.”
“Donne is much more . . .”
“I’m certain with your beauty, Sarey,” Caen said. His eyes went up and down her physique in one swift near lustful movement. “You can have your choice of any man in Esgrove. Why Donne?”
Sarey took a step toward Caen and shoved her fists against his chest with enough force that he stumbled backwards. His eyes widened and quickly narrowed again. His hands balled into fists, but he didn’t take a step toward her.
“I refuse to discuss this any further. I’ve answered you, Caen, and you choose not to believe me.”
“We leave at first light. Let the stable keeper know to have our horses ready.” He turned and walked away.
Sarey followed. “No, Caen, you mustn’t. Not until the wound is healed.”
Caen stopped and turned toward her. “Fine. Donne will stay here with you. I will find myself another squire.”
Before Sarey could reply, Caen shook his head and held up a finger in warning for her to hold her peace. He walked away and past Dawn.
“What is it?” Dawn asked Caen.
“You’re to stay here in Esgrove. I have decided to choose another squire.”
“What? No!” Dawn said, running to catch up to him.
“I’ve made my decision.”
“Why?”
“Perhaps you’re more at home here with Sarey.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Dawn grabbed his arm, hoping to reason with him, but he yanked free of her grip. Again she reached for him. He clutched her forearm, pressed her arm against her chest, and pushed her backwards never pausing in his stride. She stumbled, nearly fell onto the ground, and Sarey rushed toward her.
Angry, Dawn ran at him, grabbed his right wrist, and pulled him around. In the flash of a quick breath, Caen had drawn his dagger in his left hand and placed it against her throat.
“Don’t!” Sarey shouted. Her eyes widened.
“Know your place, Donne,” he hissed. “Never place a hand on your knight.”
Tears burned at the edges of Dawn’s eyes. Fear widened them as well. With a hurt expression she looked into Caen’s eyes and then down to the blade pressed against her throat. She swallowed hard. Her throat tightened. “You think this little in my services to you, Dragon Knight?”
“I made a mistake choosing you. You have too much in common with the folks in this hamlet. Stay with them, if you wish to live. I no longer require your services.”
“What have I done wrong?”
Caen looked into the fierceness of her eyes.
“That’s what I wish to know as well,” Sarey said, stepping beside Dawn. Sarey’s sword was drawn. “Dragon Knight or not, no one will kill an innocent person in this hamlet without serious repercussions. Lower the blade, Caen, or I swear that you’ll be dead before you can move your hand.”
Caen gave a stern side-glance. “I highly doubt that. You’re not that quick with a sword.”
“I didn’t say that I’d kill you. Right now there are four archers trained upon you. Two are visible on the rooftops. The other two are well hidden. All they’re waiting for is my signal.”
Without moving, Caen glanced and noticed the two archers upon the thatched roofs. He lowered the dagger. “You two are perfect for one another.”
“Caen we hold no affection for one another,” Dawn said.
Caen turned and walked away.
“Caen!” Dawn said.
Sarey placed a hand upon Dawn’s shoulder and shook her head. “Let him go. There’s no reasoning with any man in such a frame of mind.”
“What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Before Caen crossed the hill and disappeared from view, Dawn shouted, “You made an oath to train me! I hold you to your promise! A true knight never goes back on his word!”
“Let him be,” Sarey said. “Hot food and cool ale should settle him down.”
“There has to be some way to get him to take me back, to train me.”
“Why is that so important for you? You’re the rightful heir to the throne. You don’t need to be a servant to another.”
“But I do.”
“Why? Announce who you are and armies will gather around you and march into Hoffnung and reclaim your throne for you.”
Dawn shook her head. “No. I need to learn how to use a sword while riding. I need to know how to fight effectively.”
“Why?”
“No army will ever march before me, Sarey. I will lead them into Hoffnung and claim what is rightfully mine.”
Chapter Forty-eight
Taniesse walked alongside Boldair on the dark wagon road that meandered through the lofty green forest. The compacted soil indicated a high amount of traders, farmers, and troops used the path often. Her and Boldair’s plated boots scraped the road’s surface as they walked, almost as though the road was granite and not trodden soil.
Viorka traveled ahead of them in the treetops, concealing herself from any travelers that might pass their direction. She held a vantage point as a lookout should any danger be waiting ahead. Being in the canopy also allowed her to avoid the longwinded tales the pompous treasure-seeking dwarf told.
“And that’s when the odd kobold lodged his pickax into the rock wall above the deep water pool in Dead Meggin’s Cavern. His pouch of red diamonds spilled out onto the path all around me,” Boldair said, waving his hand in a grand gesture to add flare to his story. “Aye, in the end his greed added uncut gems to me treasures.”
“How’s that?” Taniesse asked.
“He let go of his pick to scoop up the diamonds and plummeted into the pool, sinking like a bar of gold.” Boldair reared back his head with a hearty laugh.
Taniesse stopped in her tracks. Her eyes became distant.
“Some’n wrong?”
“It’s disturbing,” she said in a hushed voice.
“Oh, everyone knows kobolds are ruthless, greedy miners, killing anyone they happen upon. No big loss for him to die . . .”
“Not the kobold.”
Boldair peered up at her. “What then?”
Taniesse blinked and released a long sigh. “Seems we’ve lost another Dragon Knight.”
“What? Who?”
“Bausch was murdered by the Vykings.”
Boldair frowned and ran his hand through his beard. “How do you know this?”
“Remember when I said that our blood flowed in King Erik’s veins?”
“Aye.”
“They swore a blood oath as brothers-in-arms with Erik. Their circle of unity is somehow also connected to us. Maybe it’s by magic, but we don’t know. When one of them dies, we know. We sense the absence of his soul. Donavan’s death occurred on the night of the Vyking invasion.”
“Ahh,” Boldair lowered his head in a solemn prayer like manner. His facial gestures expressed genuine sorry. “Sorry, O’ Great One, for the losses.”
“All
of Aetheaon mourns, Boldair. And while it is disturbing, another occurrence has captured my attention and yet, I have no understanding of what it all means.”
Boldair balanced his ax upon his broad shoulder. “What do you mean?”
She frowned. Her eyes grew more serious. “He has been replaced by another, which has never happened before, not since King Erik’s death.”
“Is this a good thing?”
Taniesse remained silent for a few moments, thinking. Finally she nodded. “It seems to be. But it’s too soon to be absolute.”
“We can always hope that others join the cause.”
“True, but this man is different, Boldair.”
Boldair cocked a brow. “In what way?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head slowly. Her eyes searched as though she could see into the nether. “I just don’t know.”
“As long as it’s good, I suppose.”
“We need to pick up the pace tomorrow to get to the treasure.”
“Aye. We can do that.”
“It’s time I hire some armies to march to Hoffnung.”
Boldair grinned. “If the gold be right, Damdur has hundreds of warriors to fight the blasted Vykings.”
“As does Oculoth and Legelarid.”
“I’m sure they do, but . . . do you think we’ll need that many?”
“To rid Aetheaon of the Vyking plague, yes.”
“Vykings are coastal plunderers, not inland fighters.”
Taniesse sighed. “This time they are. They’ve come for much more than the spoils of an invasion of Hoffnung’s port. They’re ransacking small townships and claiming the territory.”
“How do you know?”
“My sisters and I have eyes into the shadows of Hoffnung. Because of our oath with Eric.”
“You can see where the Vykings are?” Boldair asked.
“Those who have touched the soil of Hoffnung, yes.”
“But you didn’t have forewarning of their attack?”
Taniesse shook her head. “Once they attacked and blood was spilled on the docks and inside the city, we knew and that’s why we’re acting.”
“If you can see them, why don’t you and your sisters attack and kill them openly?”
“We need to make a bolder statement with a major attack. If three dragons wiped them out without the aid of Aetheaon, we make ourselves vulnerable to be hunted like game once again.”
Boldair frowned. “But wouldn’t the rulers of the other cities in Hoffnung view you as heroes?”
“Sadly, no. They would view us as a threat that could destroy their cities at any time we wished. But if we fight alongside their battalions, we prove ourselves as resourceful allies and protectors.”
“Aye, your reasoning is perfect, as always,” Boldair said with a broad smile and a gleam in his eyes.
“Your flattery grows old, Boldair.”
Boldair chuckled. “So what is different?”
“In what?”
“Why are the Vykings willing to venture inland and lay siege to other towns and cities?”
Taniesse stepped to the edge of the dark road and sat on a fallen tree trunk. “I’ve sorted through this in my mind as we have traveled. The Black Chasm has lured them. There is a link between the Isles of Welkstone and the Black Chasm. What that link is, I don’t know. The dark magic within the chasm stirs, grows, and continues expanding its reach. If successful, what rules in the chasm will overshadow and rule over all of Aetheaon. The bloodthirsty Vykings have crashed through the door. Hell’s demons and monsters will follow.”
Boldair’s face hardened with more seriousness than at any time since Taniesse had freed him from the prison. “You really believe that?”
She nodded.
“Erm, I never would’ve thought that.”
“Evil is relentless and never abandons its pursuit to wreak havoc over Order. Chaos stirs and was the driving force of the Vyking invasion. That they could take an almost impenetrable city like Hoffnung the way they did was to send waves of terror to all the cities of Aetheaon.”
“Aye. Seems sound in reasoning, but we should be able to press back the Vyking hordes if we surround the main gates.”
Taniesse nodded. “That’s why we need to gather armies immediately. Those we trap inside the gates are the most vulnerable.”
“Pin ‘em down and slaughter ‘em.”
“Such will only work if we act quickly, Boldair. Once they disperse, the labor of eliminating them becomes increasingly harder. They control the harbor and lifts, so they will continue sending more Vykings in, which gives them direct access to the trade route roads leading to all the other townships and cities.”
Taniesse rose from her seat and nodded for them to continue.
The forest road brightened slightly as the trees thinned and soon small open fields lay before them. Several buildings with thatched roofs lined the right hand side of the road. Across the path from the buildings were vineyards and other fruit bearing vines. Rows of hops bines stood tall and loaded down with fragrant green cones.
Boldair’s face lit up. A curious smile built beneath his thick beard.
“What is it?” Taniesse asked, looking down at him.
“Ah, these kind folk ‘ere have a small winery and are ale-makers, for certain.”
Taniesse laughed softly. “You gathered that much from what they grow?”
“What else would they do with hops and grapes?” He pointed and grinned. “Like most dwarves, I’m a connoisseur of great wine and ale, so I like to know what components go into making them. I guess you could say that I have a—”
“Nose for it?”
“Aye, see? You’re beginning to get to know me pretty good, aren’t ya?”
“I’d rather say that you’re quite predictable.”
“I won’t lie. That is true as well.”
“Bridgebarrow wasn’t an exception, I’m sure.”
Boldair laughed. “Just a convenient long stop along our way.”
Taniesse stopped walking and eyed the fields. “I see no farmhands. It’s late in the evening, but not quite that close to dusk for laborers to call it a day.”
“You’re right.” Boldair stepped up on his toes. After glancing at the fields, he studied the three closest buildings. Pale smoke rose from the rock chimneys. He rubbed his hands together when he read the sign: Hidden Fox Inn and Tavern. “They’re probably ‘elping themselves to some brew. I sure could use a tankard or two before we travel any farther.”
With a slight sigh, Taniesse replied, “Very well. Perhaps they will have rooms where we could stay for the night.”
Viorka scurried from the thick bines of hops and joined them at the door of the small inn.
“Did you see anyone in the fields?” Taniesse asked her.
Viorka shook her head. “No.”
Boldair clutched the door handle in his thick hand. “Let’s get a round of drinks. I’ll pay.”
Viorka stepped around Boldair and squeezed her back against the door, shaking her head.
“Oh come now, little cat creature. My palate is dry!”
“Apparently not dry enough to stop your constant yammering,” she said, crossing her arms and frowning at him.
“Hey!”
Her whiskers twitched as she sniffed the air. “Something’s not right about the place.”
“Move it, you lil varmint!” Boldair said, reaching for her.
“Wait,” Taniesse said. She looked at Viorka. “What do you sense?”
“The smell of death is in the air,” she replied.
Taniesse stepped back and looked around again. She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath. A rotten stench caused her to scrunch her nose. “You’re right. I smell decaying corpses.”
“Oh, come now!” Boldair exclaimed. “All this walking and traveling? On foot, mind you. A dwarf needs a stout to calm his nerves and drive away his weariness. It ‘elps pass the time.”
“Maybe so, but d
ead dwarves don’t drink.”
Boldair’s hand lowered from the door handle. His face drew up in a slight pout as he glanced over his shoulder. “So what are you saying? You think the farmhands and keeper of this small farm are dead?”
Taniesse shrugged. “We don’t know yet, now do we?”
“No.”
“All I’m implying is that we should proceed with the utmost caution. Field workers seldom stop their labors before the sun crests on the horizon. There’s no one to be seen.”
“Maybe they’re inside, sipping ale?” Boldair said with a hopeful grin.
Viorka rolled her eyes and shook her head. She muttered, “Always about the ale . . .”
Taniesse took a step back and motioned her hand toward the door. “By all means, see what’s going on inside. If there’s nothing afoot, you can buy my drink.”
Viorka scooted away from the door and stepped behind Taniesse, using Taniesse’s plate-shielded lower leg as a shield. She peered around Taniesse’s leg and her catlike eyes widened nervously.
Boldair cocked a brow, stared at the both of them, and then he slowly turned toward the door. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of his ax. Staring at the door for a few moments, he eased his left hand for the door handle and hefted the ax as he pulled the door partway ajar.
Closing one eye, he peered through the slit with the other. He held his breath and stood quieter than a cat about to pounce an unsuspecting mouse. Finally he widened the door gap a bit farther.
“What do you see?” Taniesse asked.
“No one.”
“No one at all?”
Boldair opened the door all the way and shook his head. “Not even a barkeep.”
Taniesse glanced down at Viorka. “From where do you detect the smell the strongest?”
“Several buildings over. That’s the direction the wind is blowing from.”
Boldair stepped across the inn threshold and Taniesse eyed him. She said, “We should check it out.”
“What?” Boldair said gruffly. “Can’t we have a pint first?”
“Without a barkeep? That’s not only trespassing but it’s stealing and you swore that—”
Lady Squire- Dawn's Ascension Page 36
