Akira Rides

by Robyn Wideman

  “You’re a most welcome sight for sore eyes! Where you been girl?”

  “I’ve been learning new skills,” said Akira, eyes sparkling. Akira walked over and punched the young warrior, who warmly greeted her, in the arm. No girly greeting would he get. The warrior almost blushed, for he was the same warrior that had inadvertently felt the effects of Akira’s, now put to rest, siren affect. He heaved a sigh of relief, most likely feeling relieved his body was under control when she touched him.

  She noticed many men she had never met before, carrying shields with the white rose emblem carved into them. She looked at them with interest, looking for familiar faces. They were looking at her with great interest. She saw a few familiar faces. She smiled when they gave her welcoming looks.

  “That’s a fresh wound I see on your shoulder.”

  Akira knew the voice. She braced her emotions as she turned to respond to Dimitri. “’Tis only a scratch, Commander. I’m reporting for duty.” She tipped her head respectfully, standing at attention.

  “That was quite an entrance you made, riding in on a dragon. I’m sure the troops are abuzz and in awe. At ease warrior.”

  Akira relaxed her shoulders, and dropped her salute. “You don’t seem surprised, sir.”

  “I wasn’t surprised to see a dragon, if that is what you are referring to. I met Sky Stalker, years ago.”

  Akira raised her eyebrows.

  Dimitri smiled. “The White Rose is sanctuary for more than humans.”

  “You never told me dragons still existed.”

  “You never asked, and had you asked, I would have lied, and told you they exist only in legends of things past. The existence of dragons who survived after the last great war has been a secret few have been privileged to be entrusted with. I envy you. It is a great honor to be a dragon rider.” Dimitri glanced over her head, and noticed, if he was not mistaken, envy in a few faces staring at them. Akira’s beauty wasn’t escaping anyone’s notice, least of all his. His eyes noticed the bronzed tan of her skin, the confidence in her stance, the elegant curve of her neck, and the muscle definition in her arms.

  She took off her helm and held it in the crook of her arm. “It is a great honor to serve under you, commander. Sky Spirit and I, are a team, at your disposal. She waits across the lake, for my command. She will be hungry, for it took much energy to get here quickly.”

  “I’ll make certain she is fed within the hour.” Dimitri looked across to the lake. “You left with your father on a mission to hone your mage capabilities, your skills. I pray it was successful?”

  Akira nodded. “It was successful, Dimitri.” As soon as his name slipped out, Akira mentally kicked herself for calling him by name. She had set the tone deliberately, addressing him as ‘commander’ and to slip into a personal familiarity, was a slip down an already slippery slope. She was acutely aware of his scent, his height, his chain mail covering a wide chest. “Sir, you will be pleased to learn that I have magic weapons, greater a’kil energy, greater than I thought possible for a halfling like myself.”

  “Then we had best go to my tent, so we can discuss these new powers of yours and see how they will best be used as we go into battle.” He turned to Cronus, who had just finished tethering his mount, and was fast approaching them. “Cronus, come with Akira and I to my tent. We have much to discuss.”

  Akira followed Dimitri into a large tent, glad for Cronus’s presence. Within minutes she briefed him on the abandonment of Sarcene, the army that the Sarcenian king would add to the fight against the Dark One.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Akira walked to where the horses were tethered. She had begged a carrot from a woman at a cooking wagon. She spotted Pegasus. He was being carefully groomed by a young boy too young to go into battle but old enough to help in the war camps. The young boy noticed the beautiful young warrior woman walking towards him. He gulped nervously. His eyes widened for he had seen her on the dragon, in the sky, as they had approached the camp. Akira, noticed how the boy looked at her as if he didn’t know whether to bow, or shit his pants. She smiled at him. “You know, if you scratch him just underneath his mane, you’ll instantly be his friend.” The boy stammered. “Is this your horse, sir, … ma’am?”

  “Yes, and you may call me Akira. What is your name young man?”

  The boy’s chest puffed up, for all day he had been called boy. “I’m Jord.” The boy moved his feet nervously.

  “Jord, you have done a good job of brushing my horse. Have you been in charge of his care since I’ve been gone?”

  “Yes ma’am,” the boy said with a trace of pride. “The commander said I was to look after this horse carefully. He ordered me to bring him a carrot every day. Said this horse belonged to a fierce warrior who would flog me if I didn’t take extra special care of this horse.”

  Akira’s heart beat faster. Dimitri knew she loved Pegasus, knew she fed him carrot treats.

  “Fierce warrior? Do I look fierce to you?” She smiled at the young boy as she ran her fingers under her horse’s long mane, and scratched through his summer smooth grey hair.

  The boy smiled, answering, “Sort of, but you are too pretty to look too fierce.”

  Akira laughed. “Well aren’t you just a natural flatterer. You must be popular with the maids.”

  The boy blushed, as he replied, “I do alright with the wenches.”

  “Wenches?” Akira bristled.

  The boy knew by the look in Akira’s eyes he may have just made a mistake by referring to girls as wenches. “Um, I mean with the ladies.”

  “Jord, I may not look fierce right now, for I’m in a good mood, and you took good care of my horse, but”—she paused for a moment to create a little tension—“if I find out you ever mistreated a maid, hurt her feelings, or laid a hand on one in anger, you will see me fierce, with fire shooting from my eyes that will burn you to a crisp!” She made a quick spell. She pointed at him with a flame illusion flickering off the end of her finger.

  The boy swallowed hard. Akira saw his adolescent Adam’s apple go up and down. His eyes were wide. He couldn’t leave fast enough. Akira held back her laugh until he was out of sight. She felt slightly mean, but she hoped the boy would think twice about who he called a wench in future. Her smile was short-lived. It’s still a man’s world still damn it. A determined look replaced her smile. But it must change, she thought.

  A movement caught her attention. She looked across the horse pen to see Cronus grinning.

  “You nearly made the lad dirty himself with your finger flame.”

  Akira grinned. “I did, didn’t I? I gave him something to worry about should he ever be tempted to bully a girl. He shouldn’t have referred to girls as wenches. Very rude.”

  Cronus frowned. “I shall have to curb my tongue and choose my words with care.”

  Akira raised one eyebrow. “I have yet to hear you misname a lady as a wench. The pup needs to know the difference. I care not if you call a wench a wench.”

  “Aye, me woman would box me ears.”

  “And rightly so,” said Akira, waving a warning finger.

  “Don’t be pointing that finger at me,” he said, chuckling. “It’s a dangerous weapon. Dimitri sent me to keep watch over you, but perhaps you can provide me more protection than I can provide you. I told him you would probably send me away, with my tails between my legs, but hells horns girl, I’d rather watch you than sit around waiting for orders. You are easier on the eyes, and you don’t reek of garlic.”

  “Garlic? Do the men have colds?”

  “No, somebody started a rumor garlic would ward off evil.”

  Akira snorted. “It’ll only ward off those who find garlic breath offensive.”

  “So, you’ll not mind if I keep you company? Keeps me away from the boys sweating garlic out of their pores.”

  “Perhaps we should eat garlic in self-defense.” She made Cronus wait a moment for her answer. She looked at him, begging with his eyes, clasping his hands as if
in prayer. A twinkle in Akira’s eyes revealed her amusement. “You clown, I’ll not object to your company. I like looking at a fine warrior with bulging muscles, and smelling pretty, while affording him my protection. How good do you smell? Dare we sit side-by-side?”

  “How the seven hells am I supposed know if I smell good?”

  Akira lifted an arm and pretended to sniff her own armpit, indicated he should do the same. “Well?” She waited to see if Cronus’s sense of humor would last just a little longer.

  Cronus rolled his eyes, sniffed his pits, made a disgusted face. “Well ‘tis not exactly pretty, but one could say I have a manly smell.”

  “Well then, ‘tis fortunate for you I already decided to let you keep my company before you smelled those bushy hairy pits of yours. A manly smell means, if I stuck my nose under your pits, my nose hairs would curl!”

  Cronus made a comical looking offended face. “You crush me! No appreciation that these manly pits when gripping a foe in a headlock can take the breath away!” Cronus flexed his muscles proudly.

  Akira chuckled. “Strength is found in the most unlikely places.”

  “So, you won’t mind having some extra strength shadowing you?” Cronus moved his eyebrows up and down.

  “As long as you stand down wind. You watch my back. I’ll watch yours. We have struck a deal.”

  Cronus reached over Pegasus’s back, shook her smaller hand with his big beefy hand. “But personally, I think I have the better part of the deal.” He gave her a sassy wink. Akira blew on her fingertip as if putting out a flame. It was good to be back with her comrades in arms. Very good indeed.

  …

  Cronus chuckled. Akira would allow him to be her shadow. Although she was lower in rank, expected to take orders from him, she was a mage. Following orders was optional for her. She was young, an inexperienced warrior, a female with history of resenting the male population, and now she had power she could use over men, frightening power to use over men if she didn’t respect them. Looking down into her blue eyes he was impressed with how she was handling all the attention she was receiving as the rider of one of the first dragons to be seen in over a century. It wasn’t going to her head.

  Cronus remembered the guts it took for her to traverse dangerous territory to escape a tyrant bent on subduing her will. He recalled her determination to prove she could be a warrior despite her lack of size. Now it was time to prove her value as a warrior, a warrior bowing to the wisdom of those who had more battle experience. Power was a heady thing for one so young. He silently prayed to his god. He prayed Akira would accept the wisdom of those far more experienced in warfare and not flex her new powers just because she could. Cronus swallowed hard as a lump of emotion stuck in his throat, for he realized the young woman he walked beside had drawn out fatherly feelings for her from his battle-hardened heart. The little hellion had stolen a piece of his heart. He swallowed hard. “Now, tell me, what is it like to ride a dragon?”

  Akira’s eyes sparkled. She looked perplexed. “I have no words.” She waved her hands about, looking stumped for words. She stopped midstride. “It is humbling.”

  “Humbling? How so?”

  “It’s humbling, humbling that such a beautiful intelligent creature would help us after our kind persecuted dragons, hunted them for sport, called them evil.”

  Cronus looked at the beautiful face of his young companion. He wondered if his god had been listening to his minutes ago silent prayer, or if he had underestimated the maturity of the young mage warrior walking at his side. He hoped it was both, for the generals had just received word the Dark One’s army was less than three marching days away from another city and the allied kingdoms had not yet all arrived to help defeat the threat the Dark One posed to their world. Every mage that would oppose the black mages had been begged to come out of hiding among humans that called all magic evil. Every mage that was comfortably safe in mage tolerant kingdoms, was asked to fight alongside the armies of kingdoms that had banished mages from their lands.

  “Egads, you’re not just a pretty face.” Cronus patted her shoulder.

  Akira looked at him suspiciously. It was unlike Cronus to give what felt like an affectionate touch. She snorted to hide her embarrassment over an unusual, out of rough and tough character, backhanded compliment.

  He sensed he embarrassed her. He returned to his brusque tone of voice. “Now stop with the humble shite. What is it like to have your own dragon and fly?”

  This cussing Cronus was the one she knew how to respond to. She found her equilibrium return. “Well, firstly she is not, not, my dragon. I don’t own her. We are a team.” Akira gave Cronus a pointed warning look when he lifted his eyebrows. “Second of all,” she suddenly smiled, “can you not imagine how it would feel to fly? Surely once upon a time you were a little boy and not always a grumpy unimaginative old warrior?”

  “Old? Old?” growled Cronus. “Perhaps unimaginative, but I’ll thank ye not to call me old!” Cronus flexed his biceps. “I’m seasoned, strong like bull!”

  Akira laughed. “And if you can’t best a man in a sword fight, can’t slay the man down with one slice of your broad axe, you can wrestle him down, stick his head under your armpit until his asshole puckers and gasps when he tries to breath from it instead of his nose!”

  “Oh, you little witch,” said Cronus, laughing. “Damn right!” His chest swelled up with pride, for he noticed envious faces watching him escort the beautiful young warrior at his side. He stood taller and smiled. He wished Dimitri would hurry up and win her heart, claim her as his own, so the young warriors wouldn’t be hopeful, foolishly competing for her attentions. Like a protective father, Cronus glared at those young men whose eyes lingered too long on his beautiful companion.

  …

  Akira was glad to laugh for a moment, with a friend, for there was little else to laugh about, with so much doom and gloom surrounding them. As she walked with Cronus, out of nowhere came a longing to have her brothers at her side. Ben, Edgar, and Marcus. Although they were half brothers, Akira didn’t think of them in half terms. They were her brothers, period. She didn’t hold it against them that they had a tyrant for a father. She believed, wanted to believe, that the best of their mother in them outweighed the influence their father had over them.

  She looked across the camps setting up. She hoped to find the familiar flag her brothers pledged allegiance to flying in one of the camps setting up along the banks of the river. For then chances were she would find Marcus leading a troop or a battalion. Unfortunately, there was a chance his father, her hated stepfather, Baron Rolfe, would be leading a battalion. If that were so, the tyrant, perhaps would be distracted from his obsession with capturing her and punishing her for thwarting him. Akira paled. Baron Rolfe had ties with dark mages. Akira panicked. She grabbed Cronus’s arm for she almost stumbled.

  “What is wrong little warrior?” asked Cronus, as he steadied Akira. His eyes did a sweep to see if she saw a danger he’d missed. Nothing was amiss. He looked at where they had just stepped as if to see if she tripped on something. The ground was flat.

  “My stepfather has ties with dark mages! His king, the king of my brothers would have been asked to join the battle against Kalifar. What if the king orders my stepfather to lead a battalion? For he was once considered a great soldier. The king will not know my stepfather may be controlled by the dark mages of Kalifar.” Akira looked up at Cronus. Her expression was clearly troubled. “He can’t be trusted!”

  “That is a ticklish problem. We’ll put our heads together with Dimitri. Personally, I’d just kill the man on sight, but that might cause a problem, asking a king for help, then killing one of his battalion leaders straight away.” Cronus drew his finger across his throat. “Would be justice for the murdering bastard. Politics is not my mug of ale. A sword works wonders.”

  Akira let go of Cronus’s arm. She looked across the tops of the rows of tents being set up as they spoke, looking to the cliff where Sky Sp
irit was resting. She hoped Sky Spirit was pleased with the food brought to her. Her mind returned to the problem of Baron Rolfe.

  “We must warn Dimitri quickly. It will be my word against my stepfather’s. The charges I make are akin to charges of treason.”

  “Aye, it is a serious charge to make. It’ll take more than one witness for the other battalion leaders to accept that he should be arrested, and tried for treason. Perhaps you worry for nothing. Your mother leads a contingent of soldiers to hunt that cur down.”

  “Before I speak with Dimitri, I should enlist the help of the mages gathering here to join forces against Kalifar. If they can tell me where my stepfather is, and what has become of him, perhaps they can deal with him. If he is on his way to join us, with a battalion under his command, we will have our enemy’s pawn in our midst.”

  “Mage assistance? Good thinking little warrior. Perhaps they can discreetly dispose of the baron with some spell or curse, put some hex on the baron that renders him unable to lead a battalion. ‘Tis best not to start a war within our own allies. The mage’s tent is this way.” Cronus pointed to a tent that looked no different than a large sleeping tent for soldiers.

  As they walked, Akira wondered when her father would return with the Sarcenian army following behind him. She could feel the presence of evil drawing closer. She could feel a weight upon her shoulders, and she wondered how the other mages were feeling. It was time to introduce herself to them. She could no longer wait for her father to make proper introductions.

  When they approached the mage’s large tent they were met by a small wizened man. The confidence of his bearing, the way he walked seemed far greater than his size. He spoke first. “Welcome Akira, daughter of Morgan.”