Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2)

by M. Lee Holmes

  Lord Ivran turned with an aggravated sigh as Doran and his men escorted Rhada from the great hall. He found Hemart running after him. The man who followed walked at a slower, more pained pace and even though half his face was covered in thick bandages, Lord Ivran could recognize Emeric from across the room.

  “My Lord,” Hemart continued between gasps, as though running after him had taken his breath away. “This man is bandaged and ready to ride with you.”

  “Absolutely not!” Lord Ivran said sternly. He turned his eyes to Emeric and did his best to ignore the look of disappointment on the injured man’s face.

  “But, my Lord,” Emeric began to plead; “I am well and have enough poultice to get me through the journey.”

  “You need rest and time to heal, Emeric.”

  “I belong at your side!” Emeric said with vigor. “I will not hinder you, I promise.”

  Lord Ivran considered him for a moment but shook his head. “Such a journey would be too much for you.”

  “I am your Protector, my Lord. I will obey my duty and protect you. I am going.” Emeric said with finality and before Lord Ivran could object again, he was stomping past him and out of the great hall.

  At the stables, Thomelin and his men had nearly all the horses ready for their journey. Ivran ordered a horse be prepared for Rhada and they waited patiently for Lord Doran to bring her.

  It was not long before Lord Doran appeared around the corner of the castle. He walked slowly, with his hand wrapped tightly around the arm of their prisoner, pulling her alongside him. Her face had been wiped clean, as well as her leathers and hair. Lord Ivran was relieved. He did not think he could be in her presence for three days with all that blood covering her.

  Even so, Lord Ivran stiffened at the sight of her. Her face was even paler in the bright morning sun, and her eyes seemed fiercer than ever before. She had them fixed on Ivran from the moment they rounded the corner and they dug deep into his flesh and burned his soul. He thought he could feel her hatred for him wrapping itself around him, turning his skin to ice.

  Lord Ivran shivered and watched in silence as she was brought forth. Lord Doran pushed her forward and offered her to Ivran like a prize.

  Rhada stood before him without making a sound. Her eyes never left his gaze and he got the sense that she was trying to make him uncomfortable. He held her gaze for as long as he could, not wanting to let her have the satisfaction of getting on his nerves but finally, he could look into her accusatory eyes no longer. He turned his head away and looked back to the stables, wondering what was taking so long to fetch her horse.

  Finally a saddled horse was brought forth from the stables and stopped in front of Rhada. He helped Lord Doran reach under her arms and lift her just enough for her foot to reach the stirrup. She swung her other leg over without objection. Since her hands were of no use to her, she was forced to hold onto the saddle tightly with her thighs. Lord Doran tethered her horse to his so it was forced to follow.

  Lord Ivran mounted his horse as well and the rest of them followed his example.

  “We will make this journey nice and slow. We are in no hurry and I will take no chances at losing the prisoner.” All the men nodded in agreement.

  “Aiduin, Protector Thomelin,” Lord Ivran called them over to him. “Form a barrier around the High Protector’s horse. We will close her in, keeping her within our sights at all times.” Aiduin nodded and Thomelin smiled. They kicked their horses to ride next to Rhada and Lord Ivran positioned himself directly behind her. With Lord Doran riding in front, there would be nowhere for her to run, if by some miracle she broke free of her bonds and tried to lead her horse away from her captors.

  “Ride out!” Lord Ivran shouted and all at once the men kicked their horses into motion. The small procession of forty-six men and one prisoner was riding east, towards the rising sun.

  Chapter 34

  After yesterday’s rain and wind that so mercilessly beat on them, it was surprising the afternoon sun overhead was so warm. There were only a few white puffs of clouds hanging in the sky, doing absolutely nothing to provide them with any shade. The entire sky was a brilliant blue and all around, birds chirped happily as they bathed in pools of the fresh rainwater from the previous night. Their songs of joy seemed to echo throughout the entire valley, filling the procession’s ears with their jubilant tune.

  The men on horseback all talked amongst themselves with the same happy tone. Their joy came from their recent victory and the bright sun seemed to lift their spirits. The sound of their laughter as they told jokes and regaled the procession of their heroisms during battle echoed throughout the valley as well, mingling with the birds’ songs.

  Only Rhada sat with her head down low and her eyes shut to the bright world around her. She tried her best to ignore the sounds of the birds and men, to keep the light of the world from reaching her eyes, but the more she tried, the more irritated she became at her failure. Everything about that joyful morning made her want to scream.

  But she could not scream, even if she wanted to. Lord Doran’s handkerchief was stuffed deep into her mouth and tied tightly behind her jaw. She had to keep pushing the cloth out of the back of her throat with her tongue.

  Perhaps I should let the cloth choke me. She thought as she lowered her head even more, trying to turn her eyes away from the sun. She could taste the foul flavor of Lord Doran’s sweat. It was enough to make her gag, but she swallowed her nausea and kept silent.

  When she realized she could not block out the sun, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at the world around her.

  Lord Doran, Aiduin, Protector Thomelin and Lord Ivran still surrounded her with their horses, making any attempt to escape she might try impossible. Her horse followed them dutifully, as though it were a soldier following its commander.

  She looked up to the sun and cursed it under her breath. Her eyes began to water at the brightness and she turned them towards the surrounding trees. She could see the birds now, hopping happily from puddle to puddle and shaking droplets from their bright feathers. Rhada could not take her eyes off the water. Though the birds had fouled it, no doubt, her mouth was filled with a dryness she had never experienced before and she longed for a sip of the cool rainwater.

  She turned her eyes forward and stared at the back of Lord Doran. The man was shorter than she remembered but no less fierce. His dark hair was tousled and caked with dried blood, apparently not having found the time to wash it away from the night before. She looked down to her own hair, which was beginning to fall out of its braid and had been hastily wiped with a damp cloth. Lord Doran’s men had not done a very thorough job in washing the remnants of battle from her as they had been ordered.

  She looked to her right and saw Emeric riding diligently by Aiduin’s side. His horse was a white mare, one of Rhada’s many horses she had given him to escape on. Her hair had been brushed and was well groomed and even after battle it retained its silky flow. Emeric himself was wearing bright, shining armor- armor that she had not noticed the night before and she wondered if he had changed clothes at some point during the night.

  It was his face, though, that caught her attention. While the side that faced her was unscathed, she could see the bandages that were wrapped around his head, covering the other half of his face entirely. She had not been able to get a good look at the man’s injuries before she was thrown upon her horse, but she caught a glimpse of a burn mark upon his neck.

  She slowly turned her head to the other side and saw the young Protector Thomelin atop his black steed, sitting tall and proud and japing with the man riding next to him. His blond hair glistened in the afternoon sun and nearly blinded her. She was suddenly reminded of a time when she rode next to his father, Dorson. They were heading for Lerous to help fend off the invading army of Ceysus, their neighboring realm that was just a few short weeks’ sail away.

  Dorson was young then, just as Thomelin was young now. His hair fell in golden ringlets as well and he
carried with him the same cocky attitude he had apparently passed down to his son.

  Sir Dorson had never seen eye-to-eye with Rhada. She assumed he was jealous that she carried Bloodbinder and he did not. He had told her once he did not believe a woman should be master and wielder to the greatest sword to ever exist. Rhada would never allow anyone to speak to her in such a way but Sir Dorson was in such favor with the King, she knew he would not be punished for his insolence. She had been forced to grit her teeth and listen to his droning the entire journey to Lerous.

  Then, one night on their journey home, she sat in her tent and listened to Sir Dorson tell his men that even with Bloodbinder in her hands, Rhada was good for nothing. She decided she had had enough and she stormed out of her tent and challenged Dorson to take Bloodbinder for his own. She told him that if he could kill her, Bloodbinder and all its glory would be his.

  The fight was over within a matter of seconds and it ended with Dorson lying flat on his back with his shirt and trousers and pride torn to shreds. He did not speak to anyone the rest of the journey back to Axendra.

  As Rhada studied his son, whom she had only seen once before when the lad was twelve, she could see Dorson’s pride and self-confidence in Thomelin. She wondered if Dorson had told Thomelin the story of the day she had shamed him and if that was perhaps the reason he had volunteered to help escort her to her prison. She decided she did not care for his reasons and she turned away from him, hoping she would not have to look upon his face again for the rest of their journey.

  Thomelin’s eyes were a bright brown that shimmered even in the darkness of night. They were watery and round and stared into Rhada’s eyes with an intensity that would not allow her to look away.

  “Are you deaf? I said I have brought you some water!” Thomelin held out the waterskin and placed it at her lips. Reluctantly she opened them, deciding that her need for water was more important than persevering her pride.

  Just as Thomelin was about to pour the contents in her mouth, he quickly pulled the waterskin away and turned it upside down, spilling the water over her head. The water soaked her hair and dripped down her face in little rivulets.

  Thomelin and his men began to laugh hysterically at her misfortune. He turned the waterskin over and shook it in front of her face.

  “I hope you weren’t thirsty!” He said between chuckles and his friends laughed even harder. Rhada turned her head away from them and closed her eyes, trying to suppress the red-hot anger that boiled deep within her. She shifted in the dirt upon which she sat, wishing she could free her hands and wrap them around his throat. Her hands, however, had been wrapped around the trunk of a tree and tied tightly behind her.

  Anger will do you no good. Just ignore them and perhaps they will leave you alone.

  “I can see the water boiling on her head!” One of Thomelin’s men said and they all laughed again.

  Once their laughter ceased, Thomelin dismissed his men and waited until they were out of earshot to speak.

  “I am glad you and I finally get to meet properly.” Rhada opened her eyes and looked at him with surprise. The smile on his lips spread across his entire face and Rhada could sense something devious about it.

  Thomelin looked around and when he was satisfied the rest of the men were busy pitching their tents for the night and would pay no attention to them, he turned back to Rhada and knelt down in the dirt before her. He reached out to her and grabbed what remained of her braid in his hand. Rhada would have never permitted anyone to touch her before- such an act was cause for a man to lose his hand, but now she was completely at the mercy of her captors and if no one was going to stop Thomelin, he could do what he pleased with her.

  He rubbed her dark, thick hair between his fingers then pulled it free of its braid. He straightened out the ringlets that now dangled wildly at her sides and brushed a wisp of hair from her face, and then he smiled.

  “I was a young boy the last time I saw you but I remember it well.” He spoke in a voice so soft, it was almost a whisper. “You were beautiful then, just as you are beautiful now. You have not aged in all these years.”

  Rhada rolled her eyes at him, not wanting to accept any sort of compliment from him. Suddenly he cocked his head to the side as he stared at her and smiled once again.

  “Do I look familiar to you?” He asked with curiosity.

  Rhada was taken aback by the question. Whatever could he possibly mean?

  When she did not answer, Thomelin decided to clarify. “Does my face remind you of someone… someone you knew in your past, perhaps?”

  Rhada wondered what he could be trying to get at. Certainly he knows that I knew his father personally? She decided to indulge him, lest he never left her alone in peace.

  “You have the look of your father.” She said dryly, as though she were bored with the conversation.

  Thomelin chuckled silently. “Correct!” He scooted slightly closer to her, apparently so she may see his face better.

  “And do you know who my father looked like?” He waited patiently for an answer.

  Rhada had had enough of Thomelin’s inquiries. She tried to look past him, wishing he would just leave her alone but he would not give up.

  “If I look so much like my father, do you not think it possible for him to look like his father before him?”

  “I suppose.” Rhada said with irritation. She scowled at Thomelin now, hoping her gaze would frighten him off. He only smiled back at her.

  “And who do you know from your past that is old enough to be my grandfather and possesses my looks- a man with golden, curly hair and brown eyes?”

  Suddenly, Rhada felt as though a rock had just struck her in the gut. She stiffened as the realization of what Thomelin was saying came to her.

  Thomelin laughed again. “There it is- the look of recognition in your eyes! When my grandfather passed away, I accompanied my father to his cottage and we ransacked the place. I, of course, found his journal and that is where I learned of his deep, dark secret.” Thomelin shifted and sat lower on his haunches.

  Rhada said nothing, only stared at him through the darkness. She could not look away from the now familiar face that stared at her and she wondered how she had never seen it before. How could I have been so blind? Dorson was the spitting image of his father and I never saw it until now.

  “Mullson.” Rhada said.

  “Pardon me?” Thomelin asked confused.

  “Danathin Mullson. That was your Grandfather’s name when I knew him.”

  Thomelin chuckled. “Oh, yes. He changed it to Northway when he moved to Nid. He stated in his journal that he did not want you to find him should you ever go looking.”

  Thomelin’s smile faded and was replaced with a deep scowl. It was obvious he hated her more than she imagined he could.

  “My grandfather was a good man. He was the best man I ever knew. While my father was off fighting for the King, he stayed in Nid and raised me. He never spoke of you, of course, but I learned of all the pain you caused him when I read his journal. You practically destroyed him!” Thomelin hissed at her with anger.

  “Did you know, after he left Axendra, he considered ending his life? He wrote about standing at the edge of a great cliff for hours, wondering what was worth living for. You made a proud man weak.”

  “Obviously he regained his strength and moved on; otherwise you would not be here.” Rhada said.

  Thomelin shifted once again, apparently becoming uncomfortable in the dirt. “He decided to live, that is how I am alive today. He married a horrible woman who made his life miserable and he blamed you for that. He wrote that he would never forgive you and he wished he had never met you.” Rhada thought she could see tears forming in Thomelin’s eyes.

  “I vowed that if I ever got the chance, I would get revenge for my grandfather’s broken heart. Escorting you to Stonehill is a small victory but a victory nonetheless- one I am proud I can be a part of.”

  “Well, I am glad you are fi
nally able to put your services to use.” She said spitefully. She tried to remind herself that he was practically a child still but that did not take away the anger she felt then.

  Thomelin sneered at her. “Is that meant to insult me? You think I haven’t done anything for this realm or the people of Nid? You are wrong.” Thomelin stood now and looked down to her with hatred.

  “Look at what you have become.” He said slightly louder than the whisper he had been speaking in before. “You could have been family, but here you are, tied to that tree, disgraced and dishonored. You are nothing more than a criminal and I have made it my duty to see that you suffer for all your mistakes.” Rhada glowered up at Thomelin, the child who was berating her, and wished she could just walk away from him and never have to see or hear from him again.

  “Protector Thomelin!” The voice that bellowed out across the camp was deep and unmistakable. Lord Ivran spat in the dirt at his feet and began walking towards them. “I ordered you to give her water, not converse with her half the night!”

  “Forgive me, my Lord.” Thomelin said with a bow. “I was just explaining to the prisoner my reasons for coming along on this journey.”

  “I am sure that it is a fascinating tale but no one is to speak to her without my permission. Is that understood?” Lord Ivran’s irritation was plain in his voice.

  “Yes, my Lord.” Thomelin said. He looked down to Rhada one last time, then dropped the empty waterskin in her lap before walking away to pitch his tent.

  Chapter 35

  Rhada woke the next morning with a sore back and a stiff neck. She closed her eyes against the bright, burning sky and twisted her head to the side, trying to stretch the stiffness away.

  She had slept with her head hanging low, her chin being supported by her chest. After several hours of being in that position, she was hardly able to move her neck. She was surprised she had been able to sleep at all but she supposed the exhaustion of the previous night had finally taken hold of her.