PARADOX III

by Paradox III (anthology) (lit)

  This time she expected the warmth in her bones but not the slow sweet yearning that rose deep in her vitals to pool between her legs. She fought with all her will to restrain the moan that started deep in her throat, but a slow sigh escaped her clenched lips. Her eyes widened at the sound of her own yearning. Her heart raced as she glanced down at the dragon. His face was hidden against the whiteness of her breast, his head a hard dark shape in the gathering gloom. She yearned to take her hands and cup the firm roundness of his skull, to know how his strange, veined skin felt under her fingertips. The touch of his hand and lips and the press of his face on her breasts told her he was neither slimy nor scaly as the bards insisted. Arragh was not the crawling worm of song, nor the destroyer of the legends. Or was he?

  She sighed as he lifted his head and fixed her with his deep green eyes. Blue lights glimmered in their depths. He had no eyelashes, no hair that she could see, just two immense eyes in his great face. He was a creature of the far mountains, the bringer of fire and destruction, the destroyer. He held her in his absolute power, touched her with gentleness, and looked at her with kindness.

  Nonsense! He was a monster, an animal incapable of kindly thoughts, a creature of devastation who stripped her near-naked with tender hands and caressed her nipples with his warm lips and would very soon consume her with fire, or rip her limbs from her body and...

  It took all she had not to whimper her disappointment.

  "You will come with me then, Myfanwy? Freely? Willing to follow my direction?"

  "Yes." Did he think she would refuse?

  His eyes glimmered as he stood upright. Still resting one hand on the tree above her head, he reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his free hand. His skin was smooth, if a little dry, and his touch sent the same wild sensations coursing through her. Would he consume her soon? Did he enjoy playing with her before the kill? Teasing her like a cat with a helpless bird? She shook at the thought.

  "Be still," he said, holding her to the tree.

  The bark was rough against her back. His hand held firm on her shoulder. She should be terrified but a strange calm enveloped her. She was no longer afraid. Perhaps she was past fear.

  His right arm moved, his index finger raised. With a swift, almost unseen movement, he flashed a narrow thread of fire down her side. Myfanwy gasped, smelled burning rope, and watched her bonds fall away into a smoking heap on the grass. She stepped away from the smoldering rope, into Arragh's arms.

  "Steady," he whispered in her ear, running his hands over her back and head, as if to calm a frightened animal. "Be still."

  The wide fingers that had burned her bonds moments earlier rubbed her wrists and arms, chafing her skin back to life. Satisfied the circulation in her arms had returned, he knelt. His hands now rubbed her ankles, easing the pain from the ropes and sending sweet shivers coursing through her body. Unable to stop herself, now that her arms were free, she rested a hand on his smooth skull.

  He paused a second at her touch and she froze, fearing she'd angered him, but he continued the gentle rubbing of her legs. Emboldened, she rested both hands on his scalp.

  His skin was smooth and cool, but warmed under her touch. A ridge of raised skin, hard like the callus of a sword hand, ran from his crown down his back where a man would have a spine. Wide green and gray ridges ran across his shoulders and back, like the veins on the underside of a leaf, or the markings of a dragonfly's wings. Was this why they were so named? She smiled, very unsure of herself...and Arragh.

  He had neither attacked nor harmed her. His voice was calm, almost soothing, and his touch as gentle as a nurse's. His head was as smooth and soft as an infant's and...

  She gave a gasp as he stood and in one movement pushed the remains of her shift to the ground. She was naked and he...

  He took her hand. Easily. As if to steady and balance, not to restrain her. "Step away from it," he said.

  She obeyed, nervous with the awareness of her total nudity.

  Holding her at arm's length, Arragh surveyed her, like a horseman regarding a new mount. "Leave that behind," he said, glancing at the pile of rags lying at her feet. "It will only hinder you and it burns too easily." Why did that matter? Was he going to kill her after all? "Your hair." As he spoke he ran his fingers down one braid. "That must go."

  "Why, sir?" Her much admired copper-colored braids were her vanity and to lose them...

  "Human hair burns too easily," he replied and as if to prove his point, with a flick of his fingers, he burned off her braids, pinching the ends between his fingers to extinguish the flame.

  Myfanwy gasped as her braids dropped to her feet, the smell of burning hair still hanging in the air. Was this a preliminary to her sacrifice? What would he do to her next?

  "Are your legs strong enough to run?" he asked.

  Run? So he was going to play with her and chase her like a hunted animal. "I can run if I need, sir. But whom would I need to flee from?" She kept her chin high and prayed her voice didn't falter.

  "Whom would we flee from?" Arragh echoed with a slow twist of one corner of his mouth. "From your father's warriors who wait beyond the grove with their fire and staves." She opened her mouth to speak but Arragh shook his head and rested a finger on her lips. "Later, Myfanwy, ask your questions. Time passes and we must leave. When I give the word, run. Do not let go of me and never stop. If you hesitate, you will perish."

  ~~~

  HEART OF THE RAVEN

  BY J. C. WILDER

  DEDICATION

  For Audra Hensley-

  a true lover of fiction and fantasy

  CHAPTER ONE

  Shivering in her threadbare shift and ragged fur wrap, Dani crouched beside the wheel of her family's wagon. Even with rags wrapped around her feet, her toes were numb. The weak winter sun had faded from the sky several hours earlier, veiling the landscape in icy darkness. She barely acknowledged the discomfort as she'd never known any different. Most of her life had been spent freezing in the winter and burning in the summer.

  A few feet away was a small campfire around which crowded her traveling companions. Her father Con was a big brutish man with fists like rocks and a passion for ale. He sat on a tree stump, his clothing rumpled and dirty as he chugged from a jug of cheap Climerian ale.

  His younger brother sat next to him. Rayben fancied himself a magician and sorcerer, one the likes of which the world had never seen, or so he said. That part was true at least, as no one had ever seen him actually use magic on anything. From what Dani had witnessed during their long years on the road his only talent was wenching and swilling ale with her father.

  Two recent additions sat huddled around the fire across from her family. The strangers had joined them several days ago, shortly after Dani and her family had been chased from yet another town.

  The tall blond one had introduced himself as Dar while the shorter, greasier one was called Knot. Dani wasn't sure if that was really his name or if the deformity on the side of his head caused people to make fun of him to the point that he believed it was his name.

  Whatever the reason, Dani knew she wasn't coming out from behind the dubious sanctuary of the wagon wheel until they were long gone. Both men, upon seeing her, had immediately inquired as to the price of her services for a quick fuck. Luckily for her, Con hadn't been that drunk.

  Yet.

  Having been on the road most of her life, Dani was no innocent. The only reason her father kept her around was because he liked his food prepared for him. Con had sold her older sister, Nova, to another group of travelers like themselves many seasons ago. Her family had been down on their luck yet again and one of the men had offered a handsome sum. Con had turned over his oldest daughter with nary a backward glance.

  Dani rubbed her skinny arms and wondered where Nova was now. Was she still alive? The life of a traveler was hard and for a woman ill-used it was short as well. Living outside under the stars, always stealing the necessities of life and fighting for ev
ery mouthful to be had-if Nova had been abandoned, her belly filled with a child...Dani shuddered. It was hard enough to scavenge enough food for one, let alone two, and a woman alone wasn't safe. For most men, it wouldn't matter if she were breeding or not if she was close at hand.

  Dani propped her chin on her crossed arms. As long as she remained trapped with her father, she would always be in danger of suffering the same fate as Nova. Realizing this, she'd tried to escape several seasons ago only to be caught by Rayben a few days later. She shifted her foot and the large iron cuff and chain that bound her to the wagon clanked. Her father had stopped in the next town and had the ironsmith imprison his remaining daughter. Con had laughed when she'd told him why she'd run. He told her that Nova was beautiful and men desired her while Dani was as ugly as a boil. No man would ever want to bed her, let alone choose her as a lifemate.

  She scowled at her father through the spokes of the wheels. She longed for a place to rest, where people would accept her. A place where she didn't have to fight for every morsel of food and a place to lay her head. To have someone to love her for who she was and, most of all, to make her own decisions about where she went and what she did. That was Dani's idea of real freedom.

  Not everyone in the world traveled. There were quite a few settlements in the southlands where people lived and worked together to keep home and hearth intact. An overseer governed those privileged enough to live in such a settlement and those families didn't have to move like the travelers. They lived in cities surrounded by peaceful farmland. Even the poorest family had a small home, a plot of land, farm animals and enough food to eat. They didn't sleep in the mud and run from town to town one step ahead of the peacekeepers.

  She'd been to one of those cities once. All had been welcome in Malian, even the travelers, as long as they abided by the rules of the overseer. The only time in her life she'd slept with a roof over her head was within the confines of that city. But that had been many years ago, before her mother had died when Dani was but a child.

  After her mother's death, Con had gotten them kicked out of Malian. He, Rayben and Jod, the eldest brother who now languished in a Sladerian prison for murder, had been caught stealing horses from the overseer.

  As long as Dani lived, she would never forget the night she'd been rousted from her warm bed and summarily tossed into the streets. Warriors of the overseer had towered over her, their gray uniforms emblazoned with the Malian emblem had made them look ten feet tall, as the impatient hooves of the horses had ground their meager possessions into the mud. Never would she forget how the mighty Malian warriors had looked at her as if she were trash-something distasteful to be swept forever out of sight. She and her family had been escorted to the city limits and forbidden to return.

  Dani shuddered and drew her arms tighter around her knees. Even now, so many years later, she still suffered from occasional nightmares of that horrific night.

  Ever since then they'd traveled from town to town, her father gambling and stealing what he could while Rayben concocted potions to cure ailments and performed slight of hand tricks that resulted in liberated gold coins from his victims. Her job was to cook the stolen food and forage when it was necessary. Lately it had been necessary more than not.

  "Girl! Where are you, you lazy whore?"

  Dani jumped at her father's strident tone. He never called her by name. It was always "Girl." Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered her name or that she was his flesh and blood.

  She rose to her feet and shuffled around the wagon. The thick iron cuff on her ankle made walking slow. She'd padded the inside of the cuff with dried grasses to keep the chafing to a minimum, but the miniscule layer did little to save her skin from abuse.

  "Yes?"

  "'Bout time, you lazy wench." Con scooped up the dice and dropped them into a leather cup, jiggling it before tossing the dice into the dirt again. "Bring me another jug and be quick about it."

  Dani reached into the wagon and pushed the heap of smelly blankets aside. As soon as the weather warmed, she'd have to wash the blankets and clothes. Until then they'd just have to stay dirty. It's not as if the men ever noticed anyway. She located a pottery flask of ale in the back of the wagon. With short mincing steps she walked to her father, doing her best to avoid Knot and Dar.

  "'Bout time." He snatched the flask from her grip. "You're as slow as a Sladerian sloth and twice as ugly. Get out of my sight," he snarled. "I don't want to see your face before morn. Do ye hear, girl?"

  Dani scrambled back toward the wagon, the chain hampering her, and she received a sharp pinch on her buttock that sent her stumbling. She shot Knot an evil glare as she made her way back to the wagon. Grabbing her meager bedroll from the back, she slipped under the wagon into the dubious safety offered between its wheels.

  She unfolded a small grass mat and placed it on the cold, hard ground. Sitting up with her back against the wheel, she tucked her knees tightly to her chest as she wrapped a shabby blanket around herself. The blanket was too small and threadbare to do much but every little bit helped.

  Weary, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The noise of the men around the fire slurping ale and expelling noxious gases from their back ends faded as another scene, a favored scene, took shape in her minds eye.

  She sat at a massive dining table laden with every type of food imaginable. Stuffed pheasant, smoked fish, and freshly roasted fowl resided in massive troughs. Bowls of spring greens cooked with pork and onion sat next to a towering arrangement of fresh fruits. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. She was so hungry it was all she could do to not throw herself face first into the feast.

  Dani reached out for a hunk of steaming hot bread and caught sight of her arm. Encrusted dirt turned her pale skin to a dark brown. Ashamed of her dirty clothes and body, she pulled her arm back as a hooded servant approached.

  "No, miss. You cannot have any food until you submit."

  She cocked her head. "Submit to what?"

  "To him." He gestured behind her. "Submit to him and your heart will be full as well as your belly."

  Dani turned to see a massive raven perched on a windowsill. Its intelligent black eyes regarded her for a moment, then its beak parted with a wild screech. She shivered, afraid yet curious at this new development. Why would the servant want her to submit to a bird?

  As if the creature could read her thoughts, the raven flicked out its wings and beat them, creating small torrents of air that caressed her skin. As she watched, the tempo increased until the torrents pulled at her clothing and the earth trembled.

  Startled, Dani jerked awake to realize that the earth was indeed trembling. Near the fire, Con and Rayben lurched to their feet as two men entered the clearing astride their towering horses. For a second she thought the peacekeepers from the last village had caught up with them. But neither the men nor the horses bore the all too familiar bronze shield worn by the peacekeepers.

  The black stallions were at least seventeen hands tall, towering well over her family. Rayben backed away from the first horse, his fists wrapped around the handle of his sword he held before him. The firelight illuminated the poorly maintained blade.

  "Greetings, travelers." The blond man nearest the fire slid off his horse. He was dressed from head to toe in black. His knee-boots were polished to a high sheen and his tightly fitted pants were tailored to muscular thighs. His broad chest and shoulders were clad in black leather. Every inch of him proclaimed wealth.

  "May we share your fire for a spell?" His voice was cultured and carried none of the northland accent that she'd expected. With his lilting tones, he was definitely from the southland.

  Con gave Rayben a nod. Of course they'd allow the newcomers to join them as they were both richly garbed. No doubt her family planned to get them drunk and take them for all they were worth. Con would get them drunk and Rayben would swap the dice for a loaded set that would play in their favor. It was an old ploy, one that had been performed many times
before.

  Dani settled back against the wheel as the second newcomer left his horse. He too was clad in black, but he wore a full cloak and hood. In the glow of the fire she caught only a brief glimpse of his strong jaw. He was several inches taller than the blond man but moved with the same loose-limbed grace.

  She shivered and wondered if his cloak were warm. Maybe Con would give her the cloak after they'd stolen everything else the men had to offer. She caught sight of Con eyeing the cloak as the men introduced themselves. Then again, maybe not.

  He had to be a very rich man to afford such a garment. Black wool lined with matching black fur. For a moment Dani wished she could surround herself in the silky fur instead of her smelly scratchy blanket.

  Her eyes closed and she fell into a light doze. Dreams of warm fur and mountains of food tormented her. As the night wore on, sounds from the group around the fire were woven into her dreams. From time to time she opened her eyes, seeing them play dice as they imbibed. She watched as the cloaked one raised the bottle to his lips. He really had a nice mouth, well- shaped lips. He lowered the bottle and licked the remaining droplets of wine from them. She wondered what it would feel like to have a man lick wine from her skin.

  A shout roused her from a deep sleep. She stirred, peering out at the sky through the spokes of the wheel. It was full dark, sunrise still hours away. The temperature had dropped and frost had formed on the grass. It was both beautiful and deadly.

  "You imbecile!"

  Dani looked over to see her father raging at Rayben.

  "What were you thinking? You just lost everything," he shouted. Dar and Knot sat together, shooting worried glances at the newcomers to Con and back again.