Knight's Nemesis

by Misty Kayn

  KNIGHT’S NEMESIS

  Copyright © 2016 by Misty Kayn

  Published by Inked Refuge

  Edited by Sharon Stogner

  Proof by Donna J

  Alpha read by Michelle Chandler

  Beta read by Camilla Renate Hesby Johnsen, Maija Willow, and Zafia

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ***All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed except for quotation in articles and reviews.

  KNIGHT'S NEMESIS

  CLEMENTINE ARER, #1

  Misty Kayn

  ~~~

  For Gabriella

  ONE

  Everyone had a job to do. Shouts and laughter heralded the folk who rushed their carriages down the steep red mountain terrain, eager to get to town for the biggest festival in the Nightlands. Night of the Wolf was only three nights away.

  In the town’s market, the neighbor’s dairy produce stall was, as always, the busiest one. The milk was smooth, sweet with the wild nature of the red pastures, and the young woman who sold the goods presented the business in sought-after light. A low-cut oval neck white shirt stretched over her ample breasts, which protruded from her chest like a pair of melons nailed to the wall. The neckline sometimes—by accident of course—slipped down, revealed a hint of dark nipple. When this happened, she coyly pulled it back up like she did just now as she leaned forward over the table and blinked her long, black eyelashes at her customer.

  The customer, a young fisherman boy of about sixteen starlights stuttered, "M…M…May I have a sample?"

  Next to Clementine, Seven rested her elbow on their stand and said, "Batting eyelashes garners better trade. You think we should invest in charcoal and color ours?"

  "It would take more than charcoal for eyelashes like that."

  "It's the deep cut then." She pointed at her burgundy high-neck dress and scrunched up her nose.

  While the boy sampled milk, Clementine counted the milk jugs arranged in a crate behind the woman. "She only brought two crates.”

  "Jasmine says it's cuz the meadow is growing purple flowers and cows are hoarding away."

  Seven tapped her shoulder.

  A woman wearing a long, black linen dress held together with four gold buttons and a belt with several leather coin purses, approached the stand. Seven’s one white dove and four grey messenger pigeons chittered, walked the length of the stick attached to the left side of their trade stand, eager to be sold. The woman ignored them and examined the glow of a single lily sample in the middle of the stand. Seven and Clementine perked up and smiled.

  "How much for the lamp?" the woman said and brought the fresh lily to her nose. She inhaled deeply, frowned at the unusually strong aroma. Nightlands was the land of perpetual night and folk gathered naturally lit flowers, mainly lilies, from around town or the meadows and used them for light in their homes, but the flowers didn’t adjust to indoors. They didn't glow as bright, either. Clementine modified hers.

  "Three for fifteen, a bundle of seven for thirty." Clementine swiped her hand over the bundle, touched the soft petals, and left a tiny particle of her source to anchor the magic on the lily, enhance the glow of the flower.

  The white lily's petals lit up the stand brighter than any other in the Nightlands. She measured precisely, only a trace of her source, which would disappear in sixteen nights. Sixteen because she guaranteed fourteen and folk liked the extra nights. The way she worked her magic was akin to water and flowers out of the ground. When the water evaporated the flowers died, so when a trace of her source evaporated, the magic that made the lily brighter, more vital then nature’s one, would disappear.

  "Hm," the woman said and placed the single lily down. "I hear they last twice as long as the man's across the market. Thirty is too much."

  Seven huffed, but didn't interrupt.

  "Twenty-five."

  They were more than worth the price. Clementine spent all night picking the last batch. Purple rampion was showing up in the meadows while the lilies and other flowers she used became scarce. If it continued to overgrow, compete with their space, she'd need to find something else to trade or go hungry. Working with rampion, even for a short time, gave her headaches.

  "Twenty," the woman said and threw a small purse of coins on the stand.

  Seven stood and leaned across the stand, her long brown braid slid across her plum shoulder. "Thirty or head on over to the guy and buy cheap lamps that dim in three nights."

  "Child, I was only bargaining." Bored, she reached into another coin purse and added ten coins to the palm of her hand. She spilled them across the stand. Coins rolled and bounced off the stone ground.

  Clementine gripped the wheels of her chair, and rolled back. "Great," she murmured under her breath. With her leg in a cast, she tried to think of the best way to pick up the coins.

  "Oh, I didn't know," the woman said, wide eyed.

  "Does it matter?" Seven pulled up her long, cotton dress and ducked. "I got it."

  The woman blushed, took her bundle of lily joy and left.

  "I love my job," Seven said, still under the stand. " I haven't sold a messenger in ten nights and now we've folk haggling for light. Can you believe it?"

  "Rumors of bad crops are spreading. Folk are worried, that's all." Clementine felt terrible her sister had to pick up her share of chores in their home and work twice as hard this half the summer, since she'd broken her leg.

  The single star in the night sky dimmed, signaled time to eat. The market's pace slowed. "It's lunchtime."

  Seven fastened the sack of coins on her belt and straightened her dress. “One night, I will eat right here at work in the middle of the night.”

  “We follow the star in public, break the rituals at home. Remember?”

  Brown eyes smiling, Seven said, "You buying then?"

  Clementine winked and backed her chair, ready to spin. "Mother is covering lunch." If she didn't get to the food section immediately, the lines at Mother's stand would stretch longer than a horse line-up for sugar cubes. Mother traded with Daylands, the bordering land of perpetual day, and the folk loved their sauces and drinks. Clementine gripped her wheels, moved them back and forth and looked up at the sky. "Come on star."

  The star blinked off, throwing the Nightlands under darkness. Boos sounded then the market silenced. "One, two, three." The star blinked back on, indicating time for lunch. Clementine rounded her stand, and spun the wheels as fast as her hands could turn them. The market, unlike the roads, was paved with asphalt and the wheels spun faster than the crutches walked. "Excuse me. Sorry. Yes, thank you!" Some folk tripped over her by accident, some toes she ran over on purpose, but she managed twelfth place in line.

  She flipped back her white braided hair, proud of her achievement and decision to avoid crutches. Her best placing was fourth and worst twenty-first, so twelve was great. Eleven folks before her hurried along, and she wheeled to a shop a size-and-a-half of her stall.

  She took inventory. Mother returned to the market well prepared. Dayland produce garnish for meat patties and sandwiches overflowed her table. Up front was red tomato sauce, white egg sauce, and something else that tried to be yellow, though was tinted with brown. Fall approached, but the summer hadn't left yet and the heat still lingered, coloring the yellows brown.

  On the other side of the space, Mother ordered her crossbreed geese boys. By the looks of it, with their carriage loaded in the back, they catered now. Mother turned away from her workers. She was a good businesswoman and well put
together. Tonight, she wore a bright yellow dress with long, pointy collars and a glimmering pink pearl necklace. Her cheeks were red with too much rose powder and her long eyelashes were charcoaled black in striking contrast with her pale pink irises Clementine inherited. They crinkled at the corners when she smiled under her large yellow hat and wiped her soft hands on a white apron. "My sweet girl with lilies and a smile. How's your leg?"

  "Better, thank you. Can I get—"

  "Your sister should get you lunch. What's she doing?" She rose on her toes and checked on Seven across the market.

  "Two pops and grains combos, please." Clementine leaned her body to the side and waved at the kitchen boys. A smart set up. The large iron-supported carriage had been made into a kitchen with chimneys that she moved around the lands as the seasons changed and the market place shifted from summers in the low gardens, then fall and winter in the towns. She arrived only a few nights ago, and set up camp nearby.

  "Who's seeing to your leg?"

  "Healer Clearance."

  "He overcharges, go to Imager Kai," she pointed, "over there."

  The best imager in the lands didn’t heal bones. The imagers wielded illusions, and the one Mother referenced, sold capsules of his powers. Which he shouldn't be doing in the first place. Nevertheless, Clementine bought from him on several occasions, acquitting that his version of headache medicine was excellent. But healing bones was different. Illusions numbed the pain but didn't set the bones right. "No, thank you."

  Mother leaned in. "You should take some of his magic then and heal yourself."

  "Yes, Mother." It was too early in the night to argue morals.

  One of the sweet boys, who wore nothing more than a black loincloth, wiggled his eyebrows and placed three baskets on the stand. Clementine smiled and took the two with white, fluffy corn pops and brown-yellow grains. The third basket contained the newest “in” food called a hot dog. Dreading the answer for Seven's sake and hers, she asked, "You're having lunch with us?"

  "Knight Borski is having lunch with you." Mother’s eyes sparkled.

  Clementine's widened. "The Wolf Clan's leader?"

  "Is there another one?"

  "Do you know why?"

  "A date hopefully, so quit smiling at my servants, they're below your station." She smiled at the waiting customers. "Next."

  Clementine waved her hand to get her attention back. "Mother, get serious. Why is he having lunch with me? He doesn't even come to the market."

  "I overheard he built a house for himself, and needs lamps. He will also need a mate soon, so smile my sweet girl, bright like your flowers." She shooed her away with her hand. "Wait, do you need help with the baskets?"

  A collective sigh spread across the market. Young girls behind her giggled and whispered. Knight was here.

  "I got it!" With a strap over her lap, she secured his and Seven's baskets then took hers by the handle between her teeth. She spun around.

  "Mustard." Mother threw the yellow-brown packet in her lap.

  Clementine beat wheels, spun them with fury. Before she got to the stand, she flung one then the other basket at Seven.

  She scrambled to catch them. "Star! What's the rush?"

  Rounding to park next to her sister—who shook the baskets, returned the stray pops— she squeaked her tires.

  Hot dog goods on the stand.

  Mustard on the side.

  Forgot drinks. Damn.

  No time!

  She flipped her braid forward over her breast, straightened her white dress, and pulled up her laced, dress strap that fell down her shoulder. She smiled, anticipated a wholesome sale. Oh how great would it be if she supplied the entire clan. She'd climb the mountaintops for a steady income.

  Seven breathed at her ear. "Hellloooo."

  "Knight is eating lunch here."

  Seven blinked. "My pigeons?"

  "What? No. Oh sister, please, be cool, and don't curse. This is it for us, I know it. Here he comes."

  TWO

  The Wolf Clan governed Nightlands from one of the two mountain ranges that loomed over the valley bellow. Their Alpha, Knight, a man of honor and duty, a man who maintained a truce with the Daylands, took care of his wolves and people. Clementine had seen him of course but, like most folk, she didn't know much about him because clan leadership kept to themselves.

  He strode down the market with three crossbreed wolves in tow and a stable boy who often flirted with her sister. The wolf was tallest, broadest, strongest, and arguably, the sexiest man in all the lands. He wore black leather boots, black cotton pants held up with strings, and a pale blue t-shirt that would rip over his chest if he raised his hand.

  The market silenced—or maybe she imagined the silence—as he exercised his long, strong legs towards them. His shoulder length brown hair was pulled back, and his green eyes were...aware, she thought. He scanned the market with one quick glance and captured all before him.

  Knight stopped at her stand, stance wide, arms relaxed at his sides. The three clan members, wearing black t-shirts over black pants, the same as he wore, gave her their backs. They guarded him, though what kind of oblivious fool attacked the wolf's Alpha she didn't know. Guards were probably for show and dramatics as well as gossip and people of all classes loved gossip. The town's talk didn’t reach her ears until Seven remembered to share but tonight, she was certain, she'd star among the gossip contributors.

  Konj, his stable boy, a simple brown leather loincloth over his groin, slender body and big brown eyes, stood next to him. He nodded a greeting to Seven first then pointed at Clementine. "Alpha, this is Clementine Arer."

  Face blank or perhaps bored, his Alpha regarded him. Surely he knew with whom he came to speak with.

  "Yap," the boy concluded and shuffled his feet.

  Knight considered the stand, eyes landing on the lit up lily sample. "May I?"

  When he reached for the flower his shirt didn't rip but lifted slightly, showing the tanned skin of his hipbone. He didn't bring the lily to his nose, could probably scent the flower if he stood at Mother's shop.

  "Mr. Borski, she's a sample of about eight nights, suitable for small rooms, but here I have several bundles—"

  "Knight will do. She?"

  "The flower."

  Seven’s white dove chipped.

  He swung his gaze her way.

  She fluffed up her feathers and puffed out her little chest. If she had long eyelashes, she'd bat them, too. A smile stretched over his lips and he rested his large fist on the stand. The thumb of his other hand ran down the dove's soft chest, and Clementine thought the messenger dove might purr when she closed her red eyes and leaned her head on his hand.

  "Awww, my newest, trained and well behaved," Seven said.

  "Are all your birds well behaved?"

  "Yes. Guaranteed carriers, all the way home."

  "Mhm. I'll take her. Konj?"

  Konj smiled at Seven, who rolled her eyes playfully and stood. "You won’t regret it Mr. Knight, my pigeons are the finest." She nudged Clementine's dress strap back down her shoulder then whispered while reaching for the dove, "I think he wants privacy."

  "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," one of the wolves behind Knight said.

  The market had hushed, his presence made some folk nervous and most young girls and boys giggly. Folk eavesdropped, inconspicuously pushed their way closer to her stand. Clementine gripped her wheels, uncomfortable with everyone's stares. He was a man for crying out loud, and he wanted a lamp. She tapped her wheels for comfort.

  Jasmine from next door, came closer. "Night, Knight."

  "Hell no, shoo," Seven said, rummaging through the bag to retrieve the dove's box. Jasmine pouted and turned away.

  Clementine looked up at Knight's profile while he scrutinized the lily. Up close, she concurred the rumors. He was the most handsome man. His soft lips contrasted the sharp angles of his carved jaw, his green eyes were bright and friendly under the light though they narrowed when
he rubbed the petals. He flipped the flower, shook the stem, and flicked the petals.

  Clementine would give him ten coins for his thoughts right now. “They’re durable, young, and vital.” she said.

  He ignored her. Some customers didn't like babbling sales people, liked to examine their purchases with great care, so she clamped her mouth.

  He didn't take his eyes off the lily when he said, "I want to speak with you alone."

  Clementine frowned. Odd, but the customer was always right.

  "Told ya." Seven took her food basket and left them alone.

  "The pigeons?" he said.

  "They aren't a crossbreed."

  He swung his green eyes her way.

  She gasped and shooed the birds. "Pigeons to the helm." She didn’t know why she’d opposed him in the first place, other than something she blurted when her mouth ran faster than her brain. A fluttering of wings preceded the chipper as the pigeons flew away.

  They were alone, though the market was full. With his eyes trained on her, she fumbled for something to do. The flowers were arranged, the food baskets ready, so she gripped her wheels and crowd surveyed. Anything to avoid his eyes. Some folks gave her double takes as they passed by, some stared, but most had enough sense not to point fingers.

  After a thorough examination of the market, she considered that he hadn't seen a Nightlands albino before, but that was hard to believe. Children approached her often, thought her a tooth fairy and asked about wings. Knight was most definitely not a kid. So what was he looking at?

  Swallowed by his presence and strong intentions in lamp purchases, she pulled up her shoulder strap. His behavior was unexpected, he straight out stared. Oh! Was there something on her face? How embarrassing. Should she wipe it off? From the basket she took a napkin and dabbed her face, nervous and excited, she concluded she was confused.

  "How's business?" he finally said, and sat next to her in Seven's chair.

  Clementine, though still unsure, released the death grip on her wheel.