Lady Squire- Dawn's Ascension

by Leonard D. Hilley II

  “That may change.”

  “You’re correct. But it’s unlikely since they seek silver and gold. Precious metals aren’t mined here, nor do we take a fancy to them. We’re a modest tribe.”

  Neela’s eyes flicked to the ruby headband on Pan’zar’s head. She cocked a brow, but she didn’t make a comment about it. “Can we depend upon your demon-hunters to aid us?”

  “I will consult with the council this evening and give you an answer by morning.”

  “Morning?” Neela’s jaw tightened. “You have to consult with your council over something this vital?”

  Pan’zar swallowed hard, avoided making direct eye contact, and then she nodded. “Yes. It is traditionally how our people jointly come to the best decisions.”

  “Aren’t you the ruler? Can’t you just make the decision?”

  “I am the priestess of Evenfar. Some view me as their ruler, but I have sworn to our villages that I will never make a hasty decision concerning any matter outside of Evenfar.”

  Fire stirred around Neela’s pupils. “The rising dangers that threaten all of Aetheaon subsequently threaten all you hold dear and sacred.”

  “Which is what I will tell them. Meanwhile, I will have Shae escort you through our village. Whatever you need to eat or drink will be provided since you are my guest.”

  Neela forced a smile, trying to suppress her building frustration, but it was difficult to hold back the volcanic eruption of hostility festering inside. “Thank you.”

  “By all means.” Pan’zar waved her hand.

  Shae’zar motioned with her head. “Come, O’ Great One. I will show you how our people . . .”

  “Your people,” Neela whispered, “have to be the most stubborn I’ve ever encountered.”

  At the door of the thatched building, Shae’zar chuckled softly.

  “I’m serious,” Neela said.

  “I know. And you’re right. We have our ways, which is something outsiders don’t understand. Those that populate the island are of the lowest caste. Their livelihoods don’t mingle together like those living in your grand cities and quaint little villages. They are fishers, traders, and merchants who interact solely to survive. Most, like myself, seek solitary lives and are scattered amongst the jungles on Evenfar.”

  Neela frowned. She walked along the white sandy path between the village huts. “So the island isn’t like this?”

  Shae’zar shook her head. “No. Just the shorelines and ports. Inland . . . Pantherans live off the land, separate from one another.”

  “Then why do any seek living socially in these fishing villages?”

  “All cubs are presented before Pan’zar seven days after birth. She blesses the cub and receives a premonition of the cub’s destiny.”

  “And you?”

  “The same.”

  Neela stopped at a small hut with tables of salted fish. “You said that only a small percentage of your people have tainted blood that allows you to become a demon-hunter. Did she perceive that as well?”

  Shae’zar shrugged. Her eyes stared ahead while she thought. “I’m not certain. My mother never told me.”

  “Then how did you learn that you had the ability to survive fighting demons?”

  “Whenever a demon is nearby, this sensation flows through me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stiffen. That’s happened from a very early age. I was still a young cub when I killed my first demon.”

  Neela’s brow rose. “Really?”

  Shae’zar nodded. “My mother found me patting its dead body around in the high grass. At least that’s what she told me.”

  “And what did she do after that?”

  “She presented me before Pan’zar and the council. Our highness sent me to Drae’zar. She trained me from then on and taught me my purpose in life as well as how to effectively use daggers.”

  “So this Drae’zar should have others like you in training?” Neela asked.

  “It is possible.”

  “Where is Drae’zar?”

  Neela returned to walking on the narrow sandy path.

  “Since you’re wanting to recruit demon-hunters, she will be in attendance for the council meeting. Pan’zar is our priestess and ruler, but Drae’zar is really the one she will need to persuade.”

  “Do you think she will object?”

  “I have no proper way to answer that. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “I see.”

  Loud conch shells bellowed like wailing horns.

  Neela stopped and turned. “And what is that?”

  “Summons for the councilors to attend the meeting.”

  “Ah, I see. So it will be soon?”

  Shae’zar laughed. “No. It will be hours before all arrive since they are scattered along the island. That is why she said that you will receive an answer in the morning.”

  Off in the distance another series of shells were blown. A few seconds later, more sounded, fainter and fainter. Neela stared at the palm trees and thick leafy edges of the mountainous terrain beyond the fishing village.

  Neela gave a long, frustrated sigh. “What do we do in the meantime?”

  “Come dine with me. Brine fish and coconut milk is something I’ve not had in a long while. Then, there’s more to see.”

  “Very well. I will not reject your hospitality, even though my patience is thin.”

  Shae’zar gave an apologetic glance. “There is nothing more I can do.”

  “I know. Impatience is my greatest flaw, but I harbor no grudge toward you.”

  “To which I am delighted to hear.” Her eyes reflected her relief.

  Shae’zar walked ahead of Neela, leaving her wide paw prints in the sand, and leading her to a large fire pit where one of the fishers roasted fish. She took a seat upon a bamboo stool and requested brine fish and coconut milk.

  Neela sat on a stool beside her. She studied the Pantherans with great interest as one male brought food and drink for both of them. She figured since she had to wait until morning, she might as well try to enjoy their cuisine. When she tasted the fish, she also realized that she was much hungrier than she imagined. Perhaps morning wasn’t too long to wait.

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  After Caen had sparred most of the day with Dawn, using wooden swords and light shields, he motioned for her to take a seat on one of the arena benches. Sweat rolled off both of them.

  Panting, she said, “How am I doing?”

  “Remarkably well,” he replied. “You’re learning techniques quicker than any of the others I’ve trained. You seem . . . overly determined to master the blade.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  He shook his head. “You’ll make a great knight someday.”

  Dawn bit her lower lip to prevent an inappropriate laugh. She tried to act surprised instead. “A knight? Me?”

  “Do you doubt your abilities?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  What could she say? She was royalty under the guise of squiredom. Her intent was to take her mother’s throne, only she couldn’t tell him that even though she wanted to.

  “You have inner anger, Donne,” Caen said. “I might go as far as saying it’s an unrelenting rage. Is Balo the reason for this? Do you wish to punish him?”

  “Not in this way. No.”

  He eyed her with curiosity and intense scrutiny. “Would you care to discuss it with me?”

  Dawn shook her head. “Not right now.”

  “Very well,” Caen said, handing her a wineskin filled with water.

  Dawn turned it up and took a long drink. The water felt good on her parched throat.

  “How’s your back? Has your wound reopened?”

  “No, it feels fine. I have a minor ache every now and then.”

  Caen took the skin and drank. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He capped the skin and set it down. “How about one more lesson?”

  Dawn grinn
ed. “Sure.”

  “Some advice my trainer gave me when I was about your age,” Caen said, smiling. “The best way to win a fight is to not be in the fight.”

  With a slight frown, Dawn asked, “What do you mean?”

  Caen stepped to the middle of the dirt pit, turned, and faced her. He causally held the sword to his side. “Approach me and attack.”

  Warily, Dawn held her sword offensively like Caen had taught her. She eased closer, and then, when she thought he wouldn’t expect it, she rushed toward him, thrusting the blade forward.

  Caen parried the blade and before she blinked, he was behind her with a dagger pressed against her throat. She took a sharp breath. He had moved lightning fast.

  “How’d—”

  Caen lowered the dagger, ruffled her short hair, and sauntered around her with a broad grin on his face. “Do peasants not have dances?”

  Not for certain how to reply, she shrugged slightly. Caen’s move almost reminded her of the drunken waltz where the male staggered to the side of the female dancer and whirled quickly behind her. She had watched from a hiding place on the balcony above the banquet room during one of the royal festivals. She was twelve years old and not allowed to participate, but she found it more enjoyable watching. She never thought that someone could incorporate dance moves into their fighting techniques.

  “The element of surprise is always at your disposal, if you get creative,” Caen said. “Okay, now you try it.”

  Dawn stood in a similar relaxed manner as Caen had earlier. When Caen came forward with a thrusting jab, Dawn parried the blade to the side, but instead of doing the move Caen had shown her, she slid down into a split position with her dagger directly behind his crotch.

  Caen’s eyes widened, both in surprise and partial fear. It was evident that he never expected such a move.

  Dawn grinned and lowered the dagger.

  Caen released a sigh. His voice was a bit higher pitched as he said, “Good move. Let’s call it a day. Tomorrow, we’ll increase the weight of your sword and shield.”

  “That’s a good example, though, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Element of surprise?”

  Caen grinned and ruffled her hair again. “Definitely.”

  Caen headed toward the bathhouse. Her heart raced. She knew she couldn’t follow him inside, but he would expect her to. She hesitated.

  Caen turned toward Dawn. “You coming, Donne?”

  “In a few minutes,” she replied, sitting down.

  “You okay?”

  Dawn nodded. “I . . . I just need to catch my breath. The steam inside the bathhouse makes it difficult enough to breathe.”

  “Very well. Take your time.”

  Caen continued walking.

  Since Kaleb and Eegrubb had died at her hand and Sarey’s, Caen had settled back into the kinder, more patient knight she had met at the Royal Stables. Dawn was certain Caen had become upset over the mention of King Erik’s disappearance in battle and the slight possibility that he might still be alive. Because if her father lived, it meant that all of Hoffnung had failed him. Although she hoped that he was alive, she understood why Caen didn’t want to believe it were possible. Ten years was a long time for someone to be missing. Where would he be? Was he a prisoner? Was her father spellbound to believe he might be someone else altogether?

  Tears burned her eyes.

  Dawn found herself taking Caen’s side. Her father was dead. He had to be. And her mother was now with him, wherever the spirits lingered in the afterlife. A reunion after a long absence.

  Fighting the tears, she suddenly wondered if Waxxon had partaken in the battle where her father had died, and if he, somehow, might have had a hand in her father’s demise? Anger boiled through her, which caused a few tears to spill down her cheeks.

  “Dawn?” Sarey whispered softly.

  Dawn turned to see Sarey standing behind her with a bow.

  “Where’s Caen?”

  Dawn used her palms to wipe away the threatening tears. “In the bathhouse.”

  “Ahh. Then perhaps you’d like to shoot a few targets with me?”

  Nodding and rising to her feet, Dawn said, “Gladly.”

  Sarey studied Dawn’s reddened eyes. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a moment of . . . thinking.”

  “Caen’s not still giving you a hard time, is he?”

  Dawn smiled and shook her head. “Oh no, we had a good training session. I was thinking about my parents.”

  Sarey pursed her lips and looked away. “That’s difficult. I’m certain.”

  “It gets easier.”

  Sarey fired at a target and then handed the bow to Dawn. Dawn took an arrow from the quiver and shot the next target, hitting dead center. Sarey didn’t comment or press for any additional information. She was there, if Dawn needed an ear, and Dawn understood that without questioning. She was just thankful to have Sarey as a close friend, and she realized that their paths never would have crossed had Dawn not chosen the walk of a squire. Even the darkest paths were sometimes sprinkled with a few gems.

  ***

  Right before the sun peaked over the horizon, the conch horns echoed across the island. Neela sighed and turned toward the long thatched hut where the priestess resided. She glanced toward Shae’zar. “Is that a good sign?”

  Shae’zar shrugged. “The meeting’s adjourned, but there’s no way to determine what the decision is until Pan’zar sends for us.”

  “I see,” Neela said, rising to her feet. “At least the waiting’s over. Let’s go see what the consensus is.”

  “She’ll send for you.”

  Neela gave an even smile. “I’ve waited the entire night. I’m not waiting any longer.”

  “Please, Neela.”

  Neela stormed down the sandy path between the vendor huts, which were empty at the break of dawn. Shae’zar kept stride with Neela. Fire danced in Neela’s eyes, making Shae fear saying anything more.

  The sandy path intersected into another path. Neela turned left and the path rose slightly until turning into a carved set of stone steps. The priestess’ hut wasn’t much farther away. Palms and other tropical shrubs and flowers formed a slight barrier around the council hall. Pantheran council members exited the hut. Muscled guards with spears stood along the path and by the doors.

  “Neela,” Shae whispered.

  Neela ignored her.

  “Look,” Shae said, “I should go ahead and talk to her. Please?”

  “She can as easily talk to me as to you. I didn’t ask for an army, Shae’zar. Just a handful of demon-hunters to help us.”

  “And she hasn’t denied that.”

  “I understand. I haven’t implied that she has. I simply stated that I’m not waiting for her to send a messenger to find me. Whether she accepts or rejects aiding us, I need her answer immediately. I don’t have time to waste.”

  “I realize that, Neela, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  Shae took a deep breath. Her eyes shifted warily. Apparently knowing that Neela was a dragon kept Shae timid. Her paws made a pleading gesture as she spoke. “Due to your current agitation, you look very hostile. The guards and my people don’t like outsiders. If they or the council believe you to be a threat, they will attack you.”

  A broad grin spread across Neela’s face. A moment later, she bellowed laughter. “You do realize how easily thatched houses like these ignite? I could engulf Evenfar with blazing flames in only seconds if they raise one weapon toward me, which would annihilate every building and everyone into a vast ashen wasteland.”

  “And it’s completely unnecessary. This is why my people don’t like outsiders. We live peaceably and try to protect our civilization from threats like yours.”

  “I have not issued a threat. All I want is an answer.”

  “Then at least let me lead the way.”

  “By all means.” Neela extended her hand, motioning th
e Pantheran ahead of her.

  Before she began to walk, Shae regarded Neela for several moments. “I will fight alongside you, even if the others do not.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “And I will announce it before all of them if it will help others decide to join us.”

  “Let’s go,” Neela said with a serious tone and cocking one brow.

  “Sure.”

  Shae hurried up the stairs and then along another sandy path that led to the main doors of the priestess’ hut. Several guards noticed her approaching and then they stared past her toward Neela. Their facial features tightened and their eyes narrowed. They stood side by side and presented their spears in offensive stances, pointing them in Neela’s direction.

  Shae shook her head. “No. We are here to learn Pan’zar’s decision. Nothing more.”

  “She will send for you when she’s ready,” the largest male Pantheran said in a low growl.

  “Thor’zar, we have limited time,” Shae said.

  “That is not my concern,” he replied.

  Neela blew into her palm, forming an orb of fire. Her eyes never left Thor’zar’s. Seeing the fiery orb, his eyes widened with great fear. “It best become your concern.”

  “You dare bring a sorceress to our land?” he asked.

  “I’m more than a sorceress, and unless you wish to watch everything around you burn . . .”

  Shae shook her head. “No, Neela. Thor’zar, she’s serious.”

  The other guards formed a semicircle, pointing their spears at her, and forming a small blockade between her and the main doors.

  “You cannot possibly hope to win against me,” Neela said. She rolled the fireball between both hands. Several of the council members dropped to all fours and scampered toward the protection of the forests.

  “What’s going on here?” Pan’zar demanded as she stepped outside the hut.

  “Again your people deny me access,” Neela said evenly.

  “My apologies. Old habits die hard,” Pan’zar said. “Thor’zar, let her pass, or I’ll let her teach you a lesson none of us will soon forget.”