by Cole Pain
Because of Aidan’s story Sim found himself liking Ren more, but he still didn’t want to find him. Man was man.
Sim scowled as Aidan’s story brought back memories of his capture and how he had allowed the Bane’s promises of glory to lure him once again. The Bane insisted his capture was necessary for him to become the greatest dragon. He didn’t know why he felt the need to listen to the Bane, but the Bane did have magic, and the Bane could harm him. Although Sim was immune to magic on the outside he wasn’t immune to it on the inside, and the Bane knew it. Sim suspected the Bane had used magic to make him more passive when the men shot him with arrows, causing him to slumber when all his instincts told him to fight. The Bane offered no explanation. He only said that through capture Sim would be there when the time came to remove the Bane. Sim supposed all the humiliation of capture was worth the chance to banish the Bane from his being, but now the Bane claimed Sim needed to be captured again. The Bane said the first capture wasn’t the capture he had foreseen. A low growl escaped Sim’s throat. Why should he trust the Bane again? The Bane was making him appear the dumb animal and not the cunning creature he was. But then the Bane was Bane, just as man was man.
Roasted Bane sounded dreadfully delightful to Sim.
“Sim?”
“Yes, dear heart?”
“Why do I feel your emotions and you don’t feel mine?”
Sim hadn’t been expecting that question. He thought for a dragon’s breath, unsure of how to reply. “Because you’re in me and you’re weaker than me. I’m Sim the Vicious Silver Dragon. You’re human. Dragons are stronger than humans; therefore, I don’t feel your feelings.”
Sim spread his wings and took to the air, pleased Aidan was asking him questions and ignoring the Bane. Ren’s scent quickly faded. He wondered if she noticed.
“But if you want me in you, you’re being selfish unless you feel what I feel. If we merge completely and you don’t feel me, I lose me, and therefore I can’t truly be with you, for I’ll no longer exist.”
Sim thought about her words as the chill air blew by him. To a lesser degree, Aidan felt the wind too. He was a strong dragon. He relayed his feelings to Aidan with no conscious effort. To feel hers he would have to want to feel hers, and he would never want to feel hers. She was woman. Woman was woman, just as man was man, and Bane was Bane. He tried to put his thoughts into words that wouldn’t hurt.
“But your feelings are insignificant compared to a dragon’s feelings. Our emotions are intense and strong. If I took your feelings for my own I would be less of a dragon. I would have weaker emotion, less hunger, and less power.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, dragon.” Sim noticed she called him dragon and not Sim. He didn’t know whether to be angry or ignore her. “My feelings are stronger than yours.”
Sim was getting irritated with the conversation. He didn’t like a human telling him she was stronger. “You’re lying.”
“I know what you feel, Sim. My emotions are stronger. If you took my feelings inside you, you’d be the strongest dragon in the Lands.”
Sim didn’t like where the conversation was leading. It reminded him of the Bane: if this and if that he would be the greatest dragon; if this and if that he would be the strongest dragon; if, if, if. Sim was sick of ifs. He wanted action.
The girl was becoming a bane. There could be nothing more powerful than the emotions of a silver dragon. When Sim spoke it was almost a roar. “I’m already the strongest dragon. I’m Sim the Silver.”
Aidan was silent for some time “If you’re the strongest dragon even if I weaken you a little you’ll still be the strongest, but if I make you stronger you’ll be all the more powerful.”
As Sim thought about Aidan’s words the more confused he became. Although he hated to admit it, the Bane was right. If he let her merge with him, she would cease to be her and be him. He didn’t want that. He wanted her to remain whole, but he also wanted her to enjoy being him. If Aidan continued to look through his eyes she would eventually lose her strength and begin to change into him. He decided to warn her the next time. He just hated the Bane being right.
But he knew his emotions were stronger. Hers would be so weak they would fizzle to nothing without affecting his current strength. So what was the harm in appeasing her? Maybe his sacrifice would bring them closer and somehow make her enjoy being him.
Sim cleared his throat and tried to sound ferocious. “If I don’t feel what you say, I’ll be angry.”
“I don’t lie, Sim.” The conviction in Aidan’s voice shook him. He thought of his dragon strength and quickly snorted out his apprehension. Woman was woman; dragon was dragon.
Sim opened himself up and forced himself to focus on Aidan. Her feelings would be so slight he may be unable to detect them. When he felt the slight trickle begin, he stifled a snicker and breathed in deeply, wanting Aidan to sense his efforts.
Sim screamed. His wings faltered as he spiraled toward the ground. The world was a blur of light and shade, blue and green, up and down. He flapped his wings, trying to regain altitude, but he only managed to get them tangled. Although the world was a blur he knew the ground was quickly approaching. With one last burst of strength he managed to regain his correct wingspan just before he crashed to the ground.
His entire body ached. Dirt and debris rained over him. He groaned as something foreign seeped from his eye. His chest swelled with profound loneliness, but on top of all the agony his heart filled with an indescribable emotion. He breathed it in. It was a good emotion, a pure emotion. It overcame the pain in his leg and the loneliness in his chest. He closed his eyes, letting more of the liquid run down his jaw, and lost consciousness.
- - -
Ickba surveyed the approaching riders with a smile and quickly invented a viable story. As they neared, Ickba studied the tall guard. The man appeared calm, but his eyes never left Ickba’s face and his hand remained rooted to the hilt of his sword. Ickba had seen Bentzen about the castle but had never had a direct confrontation with him. The man would be tough to distract, but Ickba loved challenges.
Tol sat in front of Bentzen, smiling as if he were an ordinary boy. A silver band circled his head, blocking Ista’s call. Ickba’s smile widened, imagining Tol’s terror when he took the band away.
The women surveyed Ickba with curiosity but they didn’t seem too concerned. After all, he was just one man, and a small one at that. The queen was dressed in ordinary clothing, but Ickba wasn’t fooled. He had looked into her commanding blue eyes on numerous occasions. Ickba swallowed in anticipation. He couldn’t wait to show her how terrifying he could be.
“Hello there,” Ickba said, lifting his hand in greeting. He nodded to Renee and quickly addressed her as, “my queen.”
The group pulled their mounts to a stop. “You’re one of the stable hands, aren’t you,” the queen said, cocking her head in recognition.
Ickba nodded, glad he wouldn’t have to prove his connection to the Stardom castle. “Yes, my queen,” he said respectfully. “I’m honored you remember.”
“You’ve helped me on occasion,” she said cautiously.
“You left Stardom?” Bentzen asked.
Ickba licked his lips. “Yes. I don’t want anything to do with magic. I’d rather be rid of it.” He quickly judged their direction. “I thought I would try my luck in Ketes.”
The guard appraised him with distrusting eyes. “Why Ketes?”
“I don’t want to go to Crape,” Ickba said. “The magic woman came from there. Ketes is the only other option close by.”
“We travel alone,” the guard said.
“Then maybe I’ll see you there.” Ickba nodded politely and turned his mount, thinking swiftly. He hadn’t seen many provisions on their horses. If he could get ahead of them and catch some meat, when they happened upon him that night they might be inclined to stay.
Ickba set a swift pace, stopping every so often to peer into the woodlands for rabbit or fox. The Sierras
were to his right, jutting into the fading sun, reminding him of the need to hurry back to Zier.
The lands across the Sierras were flat, brushy and replete with streams. Small game flourished in the shrubby woodland growth. It didn’t take long for him to come across a rabbit den.
He knew Bentzen would lead his group until well past dark. Ickba traveled hard until the sun was finally setting, then pitched camp beside a swiftly running stream and quickly set to work. Gathering water from the stream, he began to boil his catch in wild onions and garlic.
Night soon fell and Ickba settled back to wait. When he heard the group approaching he quickly feigned sleep.
Tol’s soft voice wafted from the darkness. “I’m hungry.”
Ickba scowled. Tol’s weepy disposition had always infuriated him. In the years since he had seen the boy, Tol hadn’t improved. He didn’t know why Ista tolerated him but he supposed Tol had been the perfect choice to win the queen’s heart.
When Tol had arrived in Zier, he hadn’t recognized Ickba. Ickba had grown longer hair and a beard since the camp. But Tol would soon remember. Ickba smiled.
“I’m too, little one,” Bentzen replied. “But we should keep moving.”
Ickba rolled over and pretended to wake. “Hello again,” he said. He motioned to the pot of bubbling stew. “If you’re hungry, help yourself. There’s plenty to spare.”
“Please, Bentzen,” Tol said.
“It should be fine, Bentzen.”
The sound of the queen’s voice aroused Ickba. He risked a glance. Renee was already dismounting, Marva behind her. Ickba could hardly wait until he had them. He had never been unsupervised with a woman before. He had ideas of what would bring intense pain.
Ickba fingered the crystal in his pocket. Once he had taken Bentzen and captured the queen he would call Ista. Ista was furious with Tol. The boy wasn’t long for this world.
Ista had known Ren might send word to Ketes. Scouts were scattered this side of Zier, in the rolling hills leading to the Nolands. Ickba had just been the lucky one to come across the group. He was surprised the crown prince wasn’t with them, but Ista had already begun the next phase of her plan. The crown prince would soon be hers, and with the Chosen under her command nothing could stop her.
Bentzen drew his sword as he dismounted. Ickba ignored him as he served the stew to the ladies.
Marva took the bowl and collapsed where she stood. “I’m starved. This child is going to be huge.”
Renee looked down at Ickba and smiled. “Marva has just learned she’s with child.”
Ickba feigned interest as he glanced at Marva’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet. That was good. Ickba hated fat women.
Bentzen took a bowl of stew and stood a few paces away, watching Ickba with ice-cold blue eyes. Ickba leaned back on his pack and studied the group, only speaking when spoken to. He studied their demeanor, what sounds alerted their attention, and the total softening of Bentzen’s features when he looked at Tol.
Ickba refined his plan. He would make his move the next morning.
Chapter 18
“Have you thought of any names?” Renee asked, looking up from her hot tea. Ickba had rekindled the fire that morning, causing the group to tarry.
Marva smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes. “I’m considering Balin if it’s a boy - my surname, and Magram if it’s a girl.”
Ickba wanted to gut Marva. She just wouldn’t stop talking about her precious child. He licked his lips, forcing himself to calm. Soon now, he told himself, he could repay her as he saw fit.
“Balin?” Tol asked, crinkling up his nose.
Marva laughed. “Balin is a good name, Tol. Balin means ‘fierce warrior.’”
Tol’s brows furrowed. “What does my name mean?”
“It means ‘one loved by the Maker,’” Benton said, looking up from where he was brushing the horses.
Tol smiled. “I like that better than a fierce warrior.”
Bentzen winked at Marva, exposing his lie.
Renee and Marva chattered on about the baby while Bentzen continued rubbing the horses.
Now was the time to make his move.
The previous day Ickba had noticed wild berries growing at the edge of the woods. Tol loved wild berries.
Ickba stood from his pallet and pointed to the bushes. “I think I’ll pick some berries before I start off this morning.”
Tol raised his head from where he played in the dirt. “Can I help you pick them? I love wild berries.”
Ickba nodded and started walking toward the brush. Bentzen’s eyes followed them for a few heartbeats before returning to work.
Tol chatted about the Avenger, insisting he would return and kill Ista. Ickba frowned. He had questioned Ista’s judgment when she had chosen Tol for the mission. Tol was young and had yet to advance into a loyal member of the Collective, but Ista had chosen him, and Tol had betrayed her. As soon as the silver band was off Tol’s head he would be punished.
But Tol had served his purpose. He had told Ista everything before magic was reborn. Without Tol, Ista wouldn’t have known about Ren’s desire to save the Maritium or when he had returned to the castle. She wouldn’t have known about Renee’s attempt to see Ren in the dungeon or the advisors’ plan to revolt. Thanks to Tol, Ista had woven a complex web that helped corroborate her claims.
Even now the crown prince was walking into a trap. Ista had taken every precaution. She had left a little treasure for the Chosen to find in case he escaped. Whomever the magic affected, be it one man or an army, Ista would command them. Wouldn’t the Chosen be surprised when he found his men butchering each other? After the magic took hold the Chosen’s men would be annihilated, until only the Chosen would remain – an easy target.
When they reached the brush Ickba led Tol deep into the shadows. Tol muttered under his breath, plopping every other berry he picked into his mouth. Ickba relished the suspense as he bent to Tol’s level.
Ickba grabbed Tol’s throat. Tol’s eyes bulged as a few berries flew from his mouth.
“You don’t remember me, do you, Tol?” Ickba said, leaning closer. “Take a real good look. We had some good times, you and I.
Madness rose in Tol’s eyes. When the boy started to scream, Ickba clamped a hand over Tol’s mouth and pulled him deep into the shadows. Distant laughter rolled in, making the deed all the more rewarding. Ickba chuckled in satisfaction as the odor of urine burned his nostrils. It appeared he was more than Tol could handle.
“Tol, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Tol thrashed in his hands. Ickba tightened his grip. His vision blurred as his arousal heightened. Blood pumped through him with blinding heat. Ista had taught him the rapture of control, as she had taught the entire Collective. The strong sacrificed the weaker, most of the time without weapons. The pleasure of ending a life with your own hands was much more pleasant than with aid. He wondered how Tol had managed to live this long. Rarely did one so weak live past the age of five.
Ickba bent forward, eyes a finger’s width from Tol’s own. “I think you’ve grown fond of Bentzen, haven’t you?”
Tol nodded as snot bubbled from his nose.
“If you so much as make a sound, I’ll gut him like I did the one back at camp. You remember that one, don’t you?”
Tol nodded again. Ickba felt his arousal intensify. If he had the hunger he would be more powerful in his attack. His eyes flickered past the brush toward the women. Renee was bent over, packing her things. Ickba could see her shape through her thin smock. He licked his lips.
“Take off the silver band, Tol,”
Tol lifted the silver band and held it close to his chest. The madness intensified. Tol felt Ista’s hold.
“Remember your friend, Bentzen?”
Tol nodded.
“If you don’t do as I ask, I’ll kill him. If you do, I’ll let him live. Do you hear?”
Tol blinked in acceptance.
“While we’re picking berri
es, you’re going to cut yourself. When we get back to the others you’ll ask Bentzen to take you to the creek to wash off. I’ll kill him if he doesn’t go with you. You’re saving him by taking him away. Do you understand?”
Tol nodded.
“If you tell Bentzen who I am, I’ll butcher Renee and Marva. I’m going to release you now, Tol. Don’t scream.”
When no ray of hope brushed Tol’s face, Ickba took the silver band from Tol’s grasp and looped it through his belt. Tol’s legs quivered as he turned and began to pick berries. Ickba forced Tol’s hand to close down on the thorny leaves until he could see blood dripping from Tol’s small fist.
Ickba leaned closer. “Remember, Tol, only Bentzen.”
Tol’s cry echoed over the plains like a wild animal. Ickba shoved him toward the camp and waited in the shadows until Tol reached Bentzen. A look of genuine concern stole over the swordsman’s face as he picked Tol up and hurried to the nearby stream. When Bentzen was a fair distance away, Ickba emerged from shelter of the brush.
Ducking behind the horses he bent to grab a rope out of his saddlebag. As he cut it into four shorter pieces he listened to the women’s concerned speech.
“Poor thing,” Renee said. “Those leaves are painful when they cut.”
“Ickba should have been more careful,” Marva said, voice hard.
Ickba peered around the horses as he formed a noose in one of the lengths of rope. He wouldn’t have much time. The creek was just over the rise and Bentzen wasn’t the type to leave the women alone for long periods.
Renee’s back was turned. She gazed in the direction Bentzen had gone, shaking her head. Ickba tightened the noose. As Renee sighed, her chest rose, tightening the smock around her breasts. Ickba’s member hardened. He broke free of the horses and threw the noose around Renee’s neck. Yanking her to the ground, he turned to Marva. He felt Renee struggling but knew she couldn’t cry out with the rope tightening, threatening to break her neck.
