Labelle clasped her hands together as she stared out of the window Cynthe occupied moments before. “Aye, go feast and rest. You leave on an important task this evening.”
Task? Sandread cracked a smile. Based on the conversation between Cynthe and Labelle, he had little doubt he was about to be sent into Jalomar's territory to assess the rumor of the maiden's arrival—a mission he could appreciate. Perhaps he'd finally catch his nemesis off guard and run the bastard through for all his sins. However, he had one minor undertaking to complete before he set out. He bowed once more, backing away toward the exit. “As you wish, My Queen.”
Free from Labelle's sight, Sandread navigated the winding corridors with hurried steps as he chased after the two guards in charge of Cynthe's confinement. He caught up with them as they prepared to enter the dungeon staircase a level directly below the throne room. “I will take the prisoner from here,” he instructed firmly as he came up from behind. Neither man protested, handing Cynthe over with an “Aye, Commander.”
He grabbed Cynthe's arm, and yanked her down the poorly lit stairwell. “Queen Labelle wants to be sure you are confined properly,” he said loud enough to guarantee her previous escorts had heard. Once at the bottom of the landing, he released her.
She whirled around, her cerulean gaze burned through him. “What shall it be, Commander Sandread? Broken legs so I cannot run away? Or am I to be crushed by the weight of fifty chains? Maybe even racked for a while? Or has my sister sent you to defile me in hopes of diminishing my majik? It matters not. You do not scare me.”
Sandread stepped forward, grinning when she cringed. He was not fool enough to claim the majikal being before him, no matter how temping her near nakedness became. Yet, he wouldn’t deny himself a moment of game. He cupped her face, delighted when she shivered despite her brave words. He caressed the bare skin above her collarbone with the tips of his fingers, brushing against the golden collar resting at the base of her neck. “Nay, sweet princess. I've never taken anything that wasn’t offered.”
She tried to shield her breasts from his wandering eyes, the thin shift doing little to conceal her feminine charms. Her bottom lip quivered. “I assure you, Commander, I offer nothing.”
Her modesty excited him, and her fear provoked him. “Turn around,” he commanded. When she failed to comply, he yanked her into position, inhaling the soft flowery scent of her hair.
“You do not wish to do this,” she whispered shakily.
He pressed his body against her backside. “Aye, you really want me to, my innocent princess. And one day, you will repay me.”
She attempted to step away, but he held her immobile with a single arm around her waist. His free hand traced a path up her spine, stopping at the collar. It was time to set the beautiful butterfly free before he lost control. “Remember, you owe me, princess.” One flick of his thumb, and the clasp broke loose.
Clarissa Steele ranted at the top of her lungs, not caring who heard her displeasure. “What do you mean your lord is away? Then who is in charge of this barbaric scene?”
Greselda, the chamberlain of Dilseacht Castle, rolled her droopy eyes. “Mrs. Steele, if you would kindly stop shrieking like a harpy, and tell me what it is you find so offensive. I may be able to help.”
Clarissa looked the stout, older woman over, immediately deciding she ranked beneath her. Like everyone else in the castle, she wore a simple gray smock, covered by the stained white apron of a servant. Clarissa glanced down at her similar attire. Her nostrils flared. “I want to know why I'm being forced to manual labor with meager room and board, while that red headed hussy is doing nothing for her comfy quarters!”
Greselda clucked her tongue and placed both her hands on either side of her rounded hips. “I assure you, everyone does their share of work here.”
“Yeah? Then why haven’t I seen her in the kitchens doing her fair share? And just last evening I saw that girl, Lena, escorting those dirty orphans for yet another free meal. How is that fair? Why aren't those little mooches pulling their weight?”
The old matron sighed heavily. “I have no control over what, or whom, the Lord Jalomar has a special interest in. Nor do I care. If he says the red headed hussy is an exception, then so be it. I have not the time for your temper-tantrums, lady. Back to the kitchens, or you starve.”
Clarissa watched Greselda wobble away; anger constricted her throat. How dare the woman speak to her in such a manner! Did superiority not matter anymore since the bombardment? She was fucking Clarissa Steele, sole proprietor of Steele Industries—the globe's leading producer of steel. Once the world devastation straightened out, she had no doubt her long established family business would boom once more. Her family's patented technology doubled the average sturdy metal's output and would become the foundation to recreating society. Fucking literally.
A baby's cry drew her gaze to the end of the corridor. Lena cooed to the squalling brat as Breandra followed behind. They disappeared a second later into another hall. Clarissa made a spitting gesture their direction. “Freeloaders.”
Clarissa leaned back against the wall. Anger over Ramona's sudden elevation into luxury sent her blood pressure rocketing. First, the bitch invaded her sanctuary during the bombardment, bringing several useless bodies to use up the minimal resources. Then she managed to convince everyone she's leader material. As if the green girl knew anything about something other than selfish gain—made evident by her role as Jalomar's new whore.
A laughing Lena and Breandra once again passed the corridor crossing minutes later, presumably on their way back to their rooms—their much finer rooms than the rest of the survivors. Breandra waved, and Clarissa returned the motion with a fake smile. Perhaps if she made nice with the children, she could get in on Ramona's scheme? Pfft. She’d never play second best to the likes of Ramona. It was just better to get rid of the red-headed skank all together.
Chapter Eleven
Darkness claimed the forest, replacing the sun’s warm rays with a cool breeze. The waning quarter moon beamed down from a starry sky, offering faint lighting. Nestled behind a group of trees, Jalomar awaited the tug on the rope signaling a successful snare. His gaze wandered several feet away to where Ramona sat before the campfire with her hands held out absorbing the heat. The orange glow of the flames outlined her oval face, glimmering against the bright green of her eyes, and making them appear catlike in the dark when she looked his direction. Not that she could actually see him through the camouflage of foliage.
On the bedroll he'd set out for her, she reached behind her back to fiddle with something beneath her dress. Her hands then slid up each sleeve and pulled a strap like piece from under each arm. A firm yank from beneath the front revealed a strange garment Jalomar had never seen before. A peculiar vestment with two cuplike bulges…in the shape of breasts? He gulped when she tossed it to the side.
He fell back against the tree, his head resting on the trunk. After the revelation of her identity, he was determined to regard her as nothing more than the maiden—and then she looked at him with those brilliant eyes. Despite her abrasive and tough outer persona, he caught glimpses of her gentle nature when she thought no one was looking. The way she cared for the two youths under her protection pleased him immensely. She was just as loving as she was fierce, made evident shortly after her rescue when he’d taken a step toward the children. He suspected she would have fought him and all his men to defend them.
The rope connected to his wrist finally wriggled. The high pitch squeal of a rabbit confirmed the catch. He made quick work of reeling it in and snapping its neck before its desperate screeches drew the attention of nearby predators.
Ramona wrinkled her nose, but said nothing as he approached and sat before the fire with the limp bunny. Using the small dagger from his belt, he skinned the pleasantly fat creature. Within minutes, he had it cleaned, skewered, and roasting above the open flame.
“I can't believe I'm about to ask this”—Ramona sniffed the
air—“but is that almost done? I am starved to death, and it smells pretty edible right now.”
“Aye, almost.” He laughed, but refused to look directly at her. “Rabbit doesn’t take too long to cook through. It is a rather undersized animal.”
“I'm sure that poor thing didn’t think so.”
“Did you not eat rabbit where you came from?”
“Nope. I suppose some people did, but I prefer my beef and pork. Not poor helpless bunnies with fluffy tails.”
“Oh?” He lifted his head to see her scoot closer. “And what's the difference in eating one animal over the other?”
She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “The packaging at the supermarket.”
Supermarket? He'd never heard the term before, but he refrained from asking for an explanation. Ramona needed to forget the past world she came from, and he refused to aid her in any reminiscence. He removed the cooked meat from the fire pit and handed her the stick on which it rested. “Eat first,” he ordered. When she tried to refuse, he stood and walked away, giving her no choice. “Eat, woman.”
Retreating to the tethered horses a few yards away, he watched her sniff the meat several times before finally taking a nibble, half expecting her to spit it out. Instead, she took another bite, her teeth ripping away a large chunk.
“This is freaking awesome,” she said with a full mouth.
Satisfied she would take her fill, Jalomar returned to sit by the fire with his canteen. He passed her the container. “Wash it down with this. Greselda has it specially brewed for me.”
She made a tradeoff, meat for canteen. Just as she had with the rabbit, she unscrewed the cap and sniffed. “Whewie! That's some strong stuff here, Jalo. Smells like Jägermeister.”
He shook his head at the casual use of his name and title…again. Once more he chose to ignore a term from her world—Jägermeister. “Milord. Or Lord Jalomar. Just try it. It's not as strong as it smells.”
She tilted her head and took a big swig, gagging once she swallowed. “What the hell is in that? I swear pepper is 'bout to shoot out of my nose!”
“I don't really know.” Jalomar chuckled. “It's Gressy's secret recipe.”
She handed him the bottle back. “Blah! Well tell Greselda to keep it a secret. That shit's all kinds of harsh.”
Jalomar stuffed the last bite of rabbit in his mouth, chasing it down with a large gulp of ale. “You should get some rest tonight. We will leave at sunrise. We have yet another half-day's ride ahead of us.”
Ramona groaned; her head fell back to expose the creamy skin of her neck. “Seriously? My butt already hurts enough.”
He licked his lips as his gaze slid down the length of the visible flesh to where her dress V'd, flaunting a hint of cleavage. Why did she have to bring up her anatomy? It was already taking all of his willpower to ignore her current state of improper dress. He put the canteen to his lips, quaffing deeply. “Go to sleep. We ride particularly early.” Before the sake of mankind is tainted by my lust.
“Wake up, Maiden.”
Ramona stirred, rolling onto her back and stretching arduously. Random twinges reminded her she was on the camping trip from hell. She moaned her aversion, waking up to a new world that was becoming a harsh reality.
“Awaken!”
Her blurry gaze fell upon two hooded figures hovering above her. She blinked repeatedly and scrambled to her feet. They removed their hoods. One male, one female. Neither appeared from this world—tall, lanky and pale, with a slight blue tint to their flawless skin. Large, slanted eyes, an extraordinary color of azure, stared back inquisitively. Silver hair flowed freely down their backs. They were beautiful creatures in every aspect of the word. “What...who are you?”
The male polity bowed. “I am known as Azer. High Priest of the Vespa.”
The much older female followed suit, curtsying deeply. “I am known as Shaila, the Hope Mother.”
Ramona trembled. “What do you want from me? Have you hurt Jalomar?”
Shaila stepped forward and embraced Ramona. A soothing warmth radiated outward. “The Lord Jalomar is merely in a deep sleep to prevent interruption. What we have come to show you is for your eyes alone, human.”
Like a magician, Azer summoned a white ball of energy with a sleight of hand. His eyes glazed over as he fell into a trance, his voice hushed and raspy.
“When man no longer cares for each other, and their petty wants outweigh compassion, the Era of Humanity will come to pass, themselves becoming the annihilators. In a world where war is the only option, faith will become a myth. Children will die of starvation, while men of opportunity and lies reap in the riches and benefits of the lesser fortunate labors. Through the timeless generations, through the destruction and rain of fire, a maiden will appear, born of fire, her destiny to become the world's salvation. She is like no other, her kind long extinct, she will fight with immeasurable bravery to procure the world's hope. In her warrior soul lays the key to life's redemption. Her final sacrifice the ultimate reward.”
The end of humanity? There was a castle and village full of people only a few miles away. And who knew how many more castles, and makeshift shelters harbored others? Ramona shook her head vigorously. “No. There are survivors probably scattered worldwide…and we didn’t wipe ourselves out. It was a freaking asteroid! How could we save ourselves from that?”
Azer raised a hand, shushing Ramona. The bright plasma ball expanded and swallowed the surrounding forest. 3D images of the bombardment materialized. Mouth agape, she watched as the world's leaders simultaneously launched their nuclear weapons at the oncoming asteroid as a last futile attempt to save mankind. But it was to no avail. The asteroid split into several fragments and bombarded the entire planet. Plumes of fire and smoke erupted from the surface. A bright blue aura surrounded the Earth as subsequent asteroid fragments followed the initial impacts.
The equator shifted, and the oceans split. What could only be described as the magnetic field became disturbed by the asteroid's impact as the expulsion of Earth's fractured shell shot up into the atmosphere. The water from the Atlantic overcame New York, washing a path deep into the city to where she and the survivors had holed up. The water flowed violently toward the brick building. But before it could make contact, a majestic shield, mimicking a mini aurora borealis, domed their safe haven.
Ramona clenched her eyes shut, sobs escaped her shaking body. The images were so powerful she swore she could detect the rotten egg smell of sulfur in the air. “What the hell is this? I don't understand.” She fell to her knees crying. “I was there! Why are you reminding me of this shit?”
A hand covered her shoulder. Shaila smiled down at her. “I beg of thee to watch the remainder, Maiden.”
Ramona shrugged the being's touch away and stood. The world was screwed. “You think I can't figure what happened next? Oh. My. God. This is so fucked up.”
Shaila nodded her sympathy. “Aye. I can recognize the exasperation you must be feeling. However, it is what it is, sweet child. It was written long ago, and your fate was chosen even before then.”
Fate. The word had just made it to her least liked list, right beneath maiden. “I hate to tell you, there is no such thing as fate,” Ramona scoffed. “Everyone is free to choose their own path.”
“Indeed, there are many paths to take,” Shaila conceded with a smile. “Yet, if we listen, instinct guides us to where we are meant to be.”
“Shall we continue?” Azer interrupted, his deep tone more of a command than a question.
With a reluctant nod, Ramona squared her shoulders and set focus on the magical IMAX screen. “I'm ready…I think.”
The final scene rolled by in fast forward. Survivors around the world emerged from their various shelters to find everything destroyed. Gone was the science and technology of the modern era. As time elapsed, civilization reverted back to the Dark Ages. But the most shocking revelation was of the Earth. No longer were there seven continents. Only two remained—
a fraction of Africa and Europe.
Fresh tears covered Ramona's cheek. Five continents of people were wiped out in an instant. The one great country she called home was now buried beneath an ocean. Everyone she had known and loved were gone. Yet somehow, she had survived. But how? Her thoughts returned to the shield of lights that surrounded the basement store in Azer's earlier projection. Was this phenomenon the reason for her survival? And could it have randomly occurred in parts all over the world?
As if reading her mind, the plasma screen darkened momentarily before returning to the moment the dome formed over the store. Outside of the entrance stood a strange woman with long silver hair. She was bathed in an aura of white light with arms splayed wide, her head thrown back as she yelled into the sky. “I thee Lyrene, sacrifice my light!”
Ramona's stomach flipped. Her heart felt like it was being ripped from her chest, and she had no idea why. “Who was that woman?”
“All in time, child,” Shaila said.
Azer slowly brought his hands together. The magical big screen disappeared. “As you can see, your arrival here was not an accident, but destiny.”
Chapter Twelve
The rising sun brought the sounds of the forest to life, waking Jalomar. The chirping birds, scurrying squirrels, and the goodnight howls of nearby coyotes reminded him of his location. He stretched in hopes of staving off the stiffened limbs caused by sleeping on the hard ground. His head spun as if he'd spent the night deep in the cups.
The campfire cackled, burning as if it were freshly kindled despite the passing of the night. He silently thanked the Vespa. Not only had they granted him an audience, but had ensured his physical body's safety and warmth.
To his left, Ramona moaned in her sleep. Had the Vespa visited her as well? Certainly the Vespa held her in high regards and would not pass the Fiery Maiden by without at least a single vision. Her moans turned into screams. He hurried to her side and gently patted her cheeks. “Wake up. Ramona, you're dreaming.” Jalomar attempted to still her thrashing body. “You have to wake up now.”
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