by A L Wright
Nikka had trailed along behind her, still eyeing the dagger. “That’s amazing. Of course, we will ride there tonight and care for them.”
Hudreia figured out who Nikka referred to as ‘we’ when Victor, Tynen, and a newly turned Friesa approached them. Nikka slipping under Victor’s arm told her all she needed to know about the two of them. Of course, she had already guessed at it; Nikka’s and Victor’s scents were quite mingled upon one another.
Another scent now interested her.
“I see we have another magick user in our group,” Hudreia said to Friesa.
The girl blushed. “Aye. Not as spectacular as yer own magicks, no. But useful.”
“More than useful,” Tynen mumbled.
“Friesa, you saved a lot of lives. Don’t be so humble,” Nikka admonished her friend.
“Let’s see it,” Hudreia urged.
Friesa reached out and touched the tip of the black blade Nikka was holding, sending a stream of current running up the blade. She broke contact, but the blade still sizzled with the current. Nikka eyed the dagger for a moment, then pointed it at the wall. An arc of electricity shot out, hitting the blue shield with a ZAP.
“Well, my dear. That is quite useful indeed,” Hudreia purred. Adding another magick wielder to their small group of warlocks added one more pebble to their side of the scales of this war. And the girl didn’t seem to realize just how powerful she really was. Unfortunately, Hudreia would have to address the girl’s training another time.
She then left them to their discussion of Friesa’s talents, and her horse to the care of the stable master, dismissing herself upon grounds of exhaustion. When she entered the palace, she found Mortul giving orders to a bevy of servants. They all scampered away at her approach. Due to the look on Mortul’s face, they were happy to be elsewhere.
“I am glad to see you,” The Patriarch said.
“I just need some rest; then I will be off to fetch Yosan.”
“We need that Chamber. I am afraid we awoke the Deep Dweller while we were in the forest, and he may be hunting Yosan and my son.” Mortul began to pace the floor of the foyer.
Hudreia’s blood turned to ice. “I am sorry, did you say…?” Her words trailed off as she couldn’t bring herself to repeat what he’d said.
Mortul closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes, it is true. For all our efforts so many years ago, he remains alive.” The Patriarch opened his eyes, looking weary despite his eternal vigor.
Hands shaking, Hudreia moved to a marble bench and sat down. Centuries-old memories flooded her vision. Flames, intense enough to boil the blood. She had scoured those caverns clean. They had destroyed that entire area, collapsing in the entrances and roofs of the caves and sealing them off forever.
Well, they had thought it was permanent. It seems that was not the case, however. Memoires of the years of the Ancient War, the long and bloody path they had walked and the impending annihilation of human life. The dark decisions they made when they had given themselves over to a deep power that had consumed their mortal souls.
Had it all been for nothing?
Hudreia felt, more than saw, Mortul sitting down next to her. Her vision had receded to pinpoints of light as she stared outward into nothing. A deep sigh escaped Mortul’s lungs, and she knew much the same thoughts had crossed his mind.
“You know, what we did, the decision we made to embrace an eternity of darkness, was key in saving all human life in that war. Whether or not the Deep Dweller died then does not change that.”
Of course, she knew that. But it didn’t mean that her body was going to respond to the news rationally. Centuries after the three of them had tapped into the dark powers of necromancy to win the war, she truly felt weary. Keyed up by worry of his own, Mortul rose from the bench and resumed his pacing.
“I asked Yosan to partner with Dartein and build a forward defense at his Keep. Seems he is taking a few extra steps in securing that by fetching his chamber.” Hudreia spoke softly, her sight widening once more, and her eyes traced Mortul’s steps as he moved around the room.
“Acquiring that Chamber will allow us to turn more humans. We can alter the spell to speed up the process. We can still turn humans with my Chamber, but the runes have been activated so many times that they are now unchangeable. Embedded too deeply into the flow of the magic.”
“I will bring back that Chamber. And Yosan, and your son.” Hudreia’s tone left no room for bickering and stopped Mortul in his tracks.
He stared into her flickering red eyes as flames smoldered beneath their surface.
“I believe you will. Please, rest now,” he said, exhaustion lining his face.
Hudreia merely nodded, too tired to worry about responding before she walked towards the room she and Yosan had shared the last time they were here.
Chapter 6
Aknock sounded on the chamber door, and Nikka, who had just ordered two tubs and hot water, was surprised to see her friend on the other side.
“Friesa! Tynen! Please come in.”
“Are you busy, Princess?” Tynen asked respectfully, looking around the lavish bedchamber, and nodding deferentially to Victor.
“No, not at all. I ordered water for baths, but we were going over recent events while waiting.”
“I hear Hudreia will be ridin’ after yer father tonight?” Friesa asked.
Nikka sat down at the table and rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Yes, she is. I asked to go with her, but she said I wouldn’t be able to keep up. Which is true, without a mount to match hers. I will have to trust she and Yosan will bring my father back safely.”
Victor came to stand beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. Nikka placed a hand on his and squeezed in thanks.
“I hope ta go with ya, to the south village,” Friesa stated. “I want the chance ta study that dagger the warlock give’d to ya. I may be able to make you and maself somethin’ similar.”
“I would feel better having you both come with us. Now that Grandfather is back in the palace, this place, and town, is fortified. He won’t need us, and we have several days before we must head back to the Keep to meet my father.” Nikka rose and hugged her friend. “I am so glad everything worked out so well for you, coming here.”
Friesa turned a bit pink as she stepped back, and glanced sideways at Tynen, who pretended not to notice. She squeezed Nikka’s hands, winked, and left the room. Tynen bowed slightly to her, nodded to Victor, and followed, closing the door softly behind him.
The next knock on the door was several servants hauling hot water in for the tubs.
Once Nikka’s tub was full, Victor began to undress her before she had a chance to protest. He methodically untucked her shirt and pulled it over her head, not bothering to unbutton it. Then he unlaced her riding corset and breeches, dumping them both beside her boots near the door. Before Nikka could climb into the tub, he pulled her naked body against him, the hair on his chest tickling her bare flesh and raising it into goosebumps. She hadn’t felt his skin on hers since that first night at the palace, and it made her breath catch and blood race as she slid against him.
He tangled his fingers into her hair and kissed her slowly, leaving her completely breathless when he pulled back.
“Get in,” he commanded, voice husky not only from sleep.
Nikka didn’t question him, curious where this was going, and hoping he wouldn’t stop touching her. She stepped over the side of the tub and started to sit, but Victor stopped her. He grabbed one of the buckets of warm water and slowly, so slowly, poured it over her shoulders to drench her whole body. Then he grabbed a rag, and lathered it with honey-scented soap, and began to wash her back in light strokes that heated her whole body. Victor continued to scrub her from top to bottom, refreshing the soap on the rag every so often, then he turned her around to do the same on her front.
The way he both scrubbed and massaged her sensitive flesh left her breathing quickly, panting at his touch, and by the time he had mad
e his way below her navel, to her core, she was practically begging him in her head to just take her. Nikka opened her eyes, after realizing she had clamped them shut, to find Victor smiling at her. As he held her gaze, she felt the rag, slippery and wet, slide between her thighs to rub lightly against her most sensitive areas. Back and forth, the rag flicked, her breath hitching each time. The pressure increasing ever so slightly each time the rag moved, until Victor’s hand pushed her over the edge and held her there for who knew how long.
Her muscles finally relaxed, and Victor helped to ease her down into the tub. While Nikka drew long deep breaths, he washed the soap and dirt away from the rest of her body and hair.
“What was that?” Nikka asked him when she finally found her voice again.
“Something I never had the chance to try before. It seems that you enjoyed it,” Victor’s voice washed over her, warm and silky and deep.
“I had no idea it could be that way. You know, without you being inside of me,” Nikka whispered, almost embarrassed to talk of it.
“Oh, my Princess. Your body has many amazing pleasures in store for you. There are plenty of other things I can do with just my hands to make you squirm.”
Nikka watched her lover’s face, reveling in this soft and sensual side of him. She had spent so many years growing up with him as her warrior and protector. It truly melted her heart to see him this way with her.
“Show me,” she breathed. His grin at her words sent a spike of anticipation through her body.
The next night came quicker than expected, with Nikka rising late after full darkness, and she wondered if this would be the new habit now that she had someone to occupy her bed and time. She didn’t mind in the least, and smiled down at Victor, sprawled spread eagle across the bed, fully relaxed. As tempted as she was, Nikka kept herself from running her fingers down his broad chest. That would have to wait until they reached the village, and had another bed to lounge in.
Victor cracked open an eye, catching her gaze and smiling as she blushed at him.
“Those types of thoughts won’t get us moving any quicker, Princess.”
“And neither will your laziness. We are already late getting started. Come on, get dressed.” Nikka bounced up from the bed, grabbed her riding clothes, and began to dress.
When she turned back to Victor to see if he had moved, she was surprised to see him fully dressed, leaning against the bedpost, watching her. Nikka shook her head at him, as he walked over to kiss her on the forehead, grabbed up their packs and waited for her to lead the way out of the room.
A quick stop by the kitchens produced a handful of beef strips, which Nikka was not fond of but tolerated for the sake of her rumbling stomach. She had just managed to finish the last of it when they emerged into the yard and found horses saddled and ready for their departure.
“What’s the funny look on yer face fer?” Friesa teased as they approached the horses.
“She doesn’t care for beef,” Victor answered for her.
“What?” Friesa’s eyes went wide “Yer daft; it’s quite good.”
Tynen came up next to Friesa. “That’s because that is all you have had since turning.”
Nikka shrugged at them. “I was raised on wild game since I was a babe. I much prefer it, that’s all.”
“That,” Victor spoke into her ear, “explains so much about you.”
Nikka punched him on the arm but laughed. “Let’s get moving. Two days to get there only leaves us a few more before we must head back to the Keep. I hope the colts will be ready to move by then.”
Chapter 7
Dartein’s tracking instincts had been on high alert all night. He knew they were being followed, and by the quick glances Yosan had been shooting him, knew that the Warlock was aware of it as well. They were currently riding across the plains that would lead them to the abandoned village, the dry and dead grass thick against their horses’ flanks. Perfect hiding place for small creatures. But they were far behind the group. Dartein had barely caught but a whiff of them in the last few hours. It was only after their group had passed the chasm that he could smell more of them. Which confirmed the suspicion that they now had caves down there.
The fact that the goblins were not attempting to advance on them made him nervous. Made him believe that the creatures were merely following them to their destination. Tracking them, keeping their distance. They would need to lose them, as they couldn’t run the risk of the enemies reporting back to their master.
Dartein signaled to the rangers in his party to keep steady, as they had noticed the goblins just shortly after he had. The small smile playing at the corners of Yosan’s mouth told Dartein that the old Warlock had known just as long as Dartein had. But since this mysterious magick-wielder had spent over a century tracking down and slaughtering the beasts, he had probably spotted them sooner than everyone.
They rode along in silence for a time, working their way past the caves as calmly as possible, so as not to raise any extra attention. Or to alert the creatures to their awareness of them. Once a mile or so had gone by, Dartein sidled his steed up alongside Yosan at the edge of a scraggly stand of trees.
Yosan reined in the magnificent mount that he had bred many, many years ago, and shooed the rest of the party into the wood behind him so that he alone faced the grassy plains and the enemy hidden within it. His horse stood still as stone, not even a twitch of its long tail, muscles tensed as though ready to launch at any moment. Here, at the edge of the woods, it was deathly silent. Not even a breeze rustled the grass or the few brown leaves that still clung to the trees.
Nothing happened for several long moments until suddenly an orange light sparked up and shone from several hundred feet across the plains. At this signal, blue magic sparked to life in Yosan’s right hand, forming into the shape of a ball, the center almost bright white. The two lights stayed still, steady, as if gauging each other. Waiting for some signal. A shout, maybe. Or a whistle.
Dartein found himself straining in the silence to hear anything that could be a signal noise. But nothing so much as a leaf was shaking in the stillness. He caught himself leaning forward in the saddle, and the creaking noise his saddle leathers made startled him just a bit. He relaxed his rump back into place, mentally flogging himself for acting like such a child in the moment. And that was when he saw the grasses begin to move.
Lulled into unsuspecting silence, the goblins stirred from their hiding, noticing their prey was moving apart. No longer caring, the goblins grunting speech, gaining volume as the light grew brighter, could now be heard, just lightly, but enough to be the signal for Yosan.
The whisper of grasses parting around Yosan’s mounts legs was the only thing that told Dartein the warlock had moved. The enormous, dark mount paced as though it were a stalking cat through the grasses, its footfalls barely loud enough for Dartein’s elevated hearing to catch. Out and around Yosan moved, cutting around the party of goblins in an arc. Looking ahead, Dartein saw that the orange light was doing the same but coming towards them in the same arcing manner.
At first, Dartein thought it was Yosan, but looking back the other way revealed the warlock and his blue light halfway through his arc to the opposite side. The blue light streamed out behind him, leaving a glowing trail all the way back to where Dartein’s horse stood, still as stone amongst the tree line.
The other rider was doing the same, as they sat astride another horse as large as Yosan’s. An orange light trailed down from the rider’s hand, disappearing away into the taller grasses through which they had just ridden. As the rider came closer, Dartein thought for a split second about intercepting them. But their silence and stillness would be better to keep them all concealed.
A flash of moonlight through the clouds revealed Hudreia’s face, the hood of her cloak thrown back. Sweat streamed down her temples, and down the sides of her nearly silent horse, as if she had ridden hard and fast to get here. She reached the point where Yosan had started his casting
and dismounted. She touched her ball of flame, for now Dartein could see it wasn’t merely light, to the point where Yosan’s blue light had started.
The two streams of light flared up at her touch, racing around in an oval shape to meet with Yosan at the other side. Halves of brilliant blue and fire-touched orange reached up to the sky, trapping the goblins within its fiery arc.
Evidently, the goblins had figured this out, too, as the guttural grunts had turned into screeches. One screech became louder and louder until Dartein saw one of the ugly, square-ish monsters running straight towards them, grasses parting and bending in its rush. He drew his sword and swung from his horse, intending to run to Hudreia’s side, when the goblin hurled itself into the blue wall of light. It came through the wall, frozen solid, only to shatter into a million pieces as it fell.
Dartein stood in amazement as another goblin followed its friend, only to become a smoldering pile of ashes after it ran through the wall of orange flames. Stepping lightly, Hudreia moved forward, pushing the walls ahead of her, constricting the goblins between two horrific types of death. He could see the light walls from Yosan’s side moving in as well. The two warlocks moved slowly at first but quickened their steps as they drew towards one another.
When they were merely twenty yards apart from each other, the magic walls grew upwards and closed off in a dome. With the grasses dead all around them, burnt on one half and frostbitten on the other, Dartein could see Yosan and Hudreia stop and raise their arms over their heads. On some unspoken signal, they dropped their arms, and the walls flew in towards each other, making an audible whooshing-yet-sucking sound as it collapsed inward. Taking the rest of the goblins down in an instant.
Both warlocks dropped to their knees, and Dartein signaled his rangers to assist. Yosan recovered quickly, and was up and rushing toward them, his mount trailing close behind. He dropped down next to Hudreia, pulling a flask of water from his belt and pushing it to her lips.
