Akira broke hands with the mages and leaned over her father. The mages rejoined hands and continued humming.
“I’m here father.” She looked into his piercing blue eyes. Her breath was warm upon his brow.
“Must give you my gift before it is too late.” His voice was weak. “Hold my hands daughter.”
“No father. You will get well and need all of your powers.”
“Akira. Even if I don’t die this hour, my wounds will take much time to heal. We have no time to waste arguing.”
Akira forced back her argument.
Eyes in the circle followed every movement made, ears tuned to every sound as the healer ever so slightly propped up the mortally wounded mage with pillows.
Akira, obeying her father, took hold of his hands. Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. “I would rather have you than your gift.”
Morgan smiled weakly. “Perhaps if the fates are kind, you shall have both. With my gift, I shall always be a part of you no matter my fate.” Morgan turned and looked at Tazir. “Keep me sustained until my gift is delivered. Help me brother.”
“Is she worthy?” Tazir asked.
“Yes,” whispered Morgan, with conviction.
Tazir nodded. He added an incantation to the humming.
Morgan turned his eyes back to Akira. “Open your mind and heart once again, one last time to me.”
Akira nodded as she placed her head against his heart. She closed her eyes. The air in the tent crackled with energy, like the air before thunder and lightning. As she lost consciousness the sound of thunder filled her ears. The mage named Zane caught her body as she slumped against the bed. Gentle hands placed her beside her father. The humming grew louder. Outside the tent, mouths stilled in wonder. Eyes searched the sky.
The sound of thunder was a curious thing, for the sky was blue. Many a brave warrior shivered. The power of mages working together was a frightening thing. One warrior spoke what many thought. “Mages at work. Sure glad they are on our side.” His companion laughed nervously.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Akira woke with a headache. Her eyelids fluttered.
“She wakes,” said Fern.
Akira groaned. She reluctantly opened her eyes. Mage Morgan was nowhere to be seen. Akira sat up on the raised sleeping pallet. She grabbed her head in pain. Swinging her legs over the edge she asked, “Where is my father?”
The witch put a hand on Akira’s shoulder. “Do not stand yet child. Let your head clear.”
“I’m not a child,” Akira said. She pushed Fern’s hand away. Akira stood and wobbled. The dizzy feeling started to recede. “Forgive my rudeness, Fern. Does my father yet live?
A masculine clearing of voice drew her gaze to Tazir.
“He lives. We have put him in a deep healing sleep. Time will tell if our efforts will be rewarded. His wounds were significant, and the drain of his energy to give you his gift was almost the end of him. The dragon who brought him here has taken him back to the White Rose monastery.”
Akira showed no emotion. A sudden surge of clarity and inner strength made her stand straighter. Her heartache was hidden. “The trance will help his body save what strength he has left.” Akira knew what they had done and why. She didn’t know why she knew it.
“Why do I know this?”
“’Tis his gift of the ancient knowledge. It appears the gift was received by yourself, as was his wish,” said Tazir.
Akira nodded. Sadness was in her voice. “My father may be a mindless shell if he survives his wounds. If his wounds don’t kill his body, giving me his memory may have killed the rest of him. The trance you put him in is a kindness. We are in your debt.”
Tazir bowed his head. “Morgan sacrificed his best chance of recovery to strengthen you. We are in his debt. We hope his faith in you was well placed.”
Akira swallowed hard. She thought immediately of the Sarcenian prophecy. The Sarcenians would be disappointed that her father wasn’t the sky warrior that was going to save the world. A small part of her felt relief, for her mother’s sake. According to the prophets the sky warrior would have to make a great sacrifice. The first thing Akira had thought of was the love between her mother and her father. Foolish prophecy. Akira turned to Fern.
Fern looked questioningly at the young warrior-mage. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t feel different other than this feeling of having drank too much wine.”
“The feeling will pass,” said Fern. “You will find that you will know things you never knew before. Already you understand things which you had no inkling of before. You must listen and pay attention to your instincts. For your instincts are now influenced by knowledge that has been passed to you from your father. With his knowledge gifted to you, you have the opportunity to become a mage that is more powerful than any mage in this room. You have the potential to become a leader.”
Looking first to Tazir, then Waldorf, Yooda and Zane, Akira spoke softly. “Powerful people seem to make many enemies. I’m young. It’s a disadvantage. I’m female. That has always been a disadvantage for me. My education in the arts of magic is sadly lacking. My father was trying to remedy my lack of training. I’m not much of a mage. As for being a leader, one must first learn to become a follower before becoming a leader. I’m not leader material. I know it. What fate has bestowed upon me, I pray, will be useful to help defeat the Dark Lord.”
“Are you just as humble as you sound?” asked Waldorf. His expression was almost sour.
“I have no need for pretense. Would I not look like a fool if I was anything but truthful?” Akira looked Waldorf straight in the eyes. “You don’t trust me, and rightly so. Nor do I trust you.”
Fern interjected, “We’d be foolish to blindly trust. But I have faith that because we have put aside personal ambitions, differences and come together to defeat a common enemy that there is enough trust among us to work together. Must you be so jaded, Waldorf?”
Waldorf rolled his eyes.
Yooda spoke up. “Can we all agree that the task at hand is to combine our powers and work as one?”
Zane nodded his agreement, as did Tazir.
A sound of trumpets filled the air. Akira followed the mages outside the tent.
The trumpets were announcing new arrivals. Akira couldn’t see the men but she recognized their flag. Her nostrils flared. Her blue eyes grew icy. The red and yellow flag was all too familiar
“Bastard,” said Akira under her breath.
“You know that flag?” said Zane.
“’Tis the flag of my stepfather, Baron Rolfe.”
“Ah, so your enemy is close at hand”, said Fern. “Shall we pay him a visit? Welcome him?”
“I would rather surprise him, than have him surprise me,” said Akira.
Zane gave Akira a nod of approval. “Good strategy. Take the initiative. Shall we take a stroll through the camp and stumble upon him?”
Akira nodded affirmatively. She looked around and found Cronus patiently waiting for her. She gave him a tired look bringing him swiftly to her side. His larger than life presence was comforting. Akira was tired. She thought about her mother’s love for Morgan. Her mother needed to be with Morgan. And Morgan, her thoughts painfully returned to Morgan. Would she lose the father she had always longed for but known so briefly? Her shoulders slumped for a telling second.
Cronus gave her a concerned look. He glowered at Zane. “What’s going on?” he turned to Akira. “You look like hell.”
“Cronus, I probably look better than I feel.” She straightened her shoulders. “We are off on a stroll through the camp. The new arrivals carry my stepfather’s flag.”
“Well isn’t that just the shittiest luck, for him. I think there are a few friends that would like to join our stroll through the camp. We will walk past our camp first.”
Akira’s burly bodyguard put a comforting hand on her shoulder as they started towards their encampment. He said nothing as the mage named Zane stepped quickly
to position himself at Akira’s other side. Cronus did a sweep with his eyes looking for danger. An assassin could easily hide among the gathering armies. Cronus looked behind himself. All the mages were coming along. They were right behind them.
Cronus looked at Zane. “Who are you?” his eyes made another sweep as he waited for an answer.
“Zane. Just another mage ready to lend assistance if need be.”
“You two have a plan?” asked Cronus while looking back and forth between Akira and the mage at her side. When they both hesitated Cronus answered for himself. “A show of force it appears. Are we going to kill that dung bag and be done with it?”
“I wish,” said Akira. She put her hand to the hilt of her sword.
“Your wish is my command,” said Cronus.
“Not so fast,” said Zane. “We don’t want to start infighting among our allies. A not so subtle show of force should suffice.”
“Too bad, perhaps another day.” Cronus muttered, adding, “soon.” Cronus noted the mage too kept his eyes moving. Cronus glanced again at the mages following only a few steps behind. He looked disconcerted being followed by so much mage power. Akira didn’t miss his look.
“First time I’ve seen you nervous, my friend.” Akira kept her eyes forward as she spoke. She was searching for Baron Rolfe’s flag.
“First time I’ve walked ahead of mages who could fry my ass or turn me into a jackass.”
“True,” said Akira. “However, you have been known to turn yourself into a jackass from time to time.”
Cronus chuckled. “Good to see you’ve not lost your sense of humor little warrior.”
“Little warrior? Did no one tell you size does not matter.” Akira had to step faster to keep up with Cronus’s stride.
“Oh a few women have said size matters.” Cronus grinned when Akira snorted.
Zane smiled. Perhaps he suspected the big burly warrior was deliberately keeping his young friend’s mind off her immediate troubles. His gaze lingered appreciatively, a fraction longer than necessary on the face of the young woman he walked beside.
As they walked between the campgrounds eyes could not help but stare. Without introduction or fanfare those with any intelligence to go with their muscle and brawn could tell the entourage was of significant importance. The way they walked, their bearing, exuded confidence. There were a few whispers as they passed, whispers of caution, whispers of conjecture, and a few wise guesses that mages had just walked past.
No sooner than they approached the campsite of Dimitri and his men, Dimitri stepped forward to meet them. He sheathed the sword he had been sharpening when he saw the entourage with Akira approaching.
Akira bowed her head briefly in respect. Dimitri looked at her with knowing eyes.
Dimitri spoke first. “I saw the flag pass. They are setting up camp further up the river bank. I see you have the council of mages with you.”
Akira looked back at her new acquaintances then at Dimitri. “Have you been introduced?”
“I have met Tazir on occasion.” He gave a friendly nod at Tazir. “The others I have yet to meet.”
Akira pointed to Yooda. “Mage Yooda, this is my commander, Dimitri, champion of the Order of the White Rose.” Both men nodded. Akira continued making the introductions. She wasted no time, allowed no time for pleasantries. Her mind was preoccupied with her impending face to face with Baron Rolfe. She shivered. It was not fear. It was disgust. How dare that two-faced brute attempt to join the battle against the Dark Lord? If the fates were kind perhaps it was only her brothers she would meet up the river bank. If the fates were kind some misfortune had already befallen on her stepfather. A deadly misfortune would be welcome news. She shook her thoughts back to reality. Rarely did evil men die when convenient. It seemed it was good men who died early. Her stepfather was not a good man.
Dimitri eyed the mages and the witch. “I take it there is a plan?”
Tazir raised his hand, signaling his intention to speak. “We can’t cause distrust among our allies. Our positions and alliances are fragile at best. We must be seen welcoming this baron and thanking him for his assistance. When word was sent asking assistance to defend against the Dark One, all who have gathered here were asked to put all differences aside for the sake of unity.”
Akira tightened her fist. Tazir gave her a look of sympathy.
Tazir continued speaking. “It would be wise for the baron to see Akira in a new light, with position and power among the mages. Only a fool would ignore the fact that she has come into her own as a warrior, a warrior who can defend herself. He doesn’t need to know she is also a mage. He will soon learn she is the dragon rider that has our allies buzzing. That should be enough for him to stay his hand against our young warrior. If he stays true to his nature he will be choking on the new circumstances he finds himself in.”
Akira sighed. What Tazir said made good sense. She recalled the private conversation with the mages inside their tent. They would have spies watching Baron Rolfe like a hawk.
“If he shows his true colors, he will most likely have an unfortunate accident before or in battle,” said Akira.
“I assume you are leaving this problem with the mages to deal with.” Dimitri searched Akira’s face, before thoughtfully looking at the mages and the witch, then back to Akira. “Do you still fear him?”
“I’m not the powerless girl that ran from him. He should fear me.”
“Good. We shall make the first move,” said Dimitri.
Akira raised her chin up. She looked confident, beautiful. The haunting sadness in her eyes didn’t detract from her beauty. Her dark, almost raven-black hair shone in the sun. Her blue eyes were the pale-blue color of glacier ice. They were cold. The tiny hairs at the back of her neck lifted, as did the fine hair on her arms. Suddenly her own voice from the past cautioned her. As long as my stepfather lives I must love no one. Akira remembered well how Baron Rolfe threatened to harm those she loved when she showed no fear for herself. Anger flowed through her veins. She felt herself surge with a newfound confidence, and a surge of energy that threatened to erupt. Her eyes grew icier. “Let’s get this over with.”
Tazir looked at Akira. He felt the almost silent hum of energy surrounding her. His eyes widened. “Take a deep breath young warrior. You are having a power surge. Control it before you set off fireworks.”
Fern put a hand on Akira’s arm. The white witch’s brief touch had a calming effect. Akira looked at the witch gratefully. She whispered to the witch, “Gratitude, I haven’t had time to adjust to this new level of energy transferred from my father.”
Fern smiled. “No gratitude needed. Your extra energy I absorbed is invigorating. I hope you don’t mind.”
Akira’s eyes widened. She knew why the witch had touched her. It was to diffuse a surge of magical energy Akira had not been prepared for. Her mind reeled My father’s gift is abundant. My emotions must be harnessed. They trigger a reaction I’m not used to. How did Fern access my energy so easily?
“Your touch was calming. I’m glad you benefited from my temporary lapse of self-control. I shall make sure it isn’t needed again. The responsibility falls upon me to control myself.” Don’t touch me again without invitation. Akira saw that the witch was reading between the lines.
“Yes, it does,” said Fern. “Perhaps later I can help you block gifted beings like myself from energy touch transfers.”
As Akira moved at Cronus’s bidding she looked back at Zane. The handsome mage obviously was listening to her conversation with Fern. He looked like he was about to add to the conversation, then thought better of it.
Dimitri spearheaded the procession. Cronus positioned himself with Tazir behind Dimitri. Akira walked beside Fern and Yooda. Zane and Waldorf walked behind Akira. The dozen of Dimitri’s men that armed themselves at Dimitri’s signal, mounted up and followed. Akira felt as if Zane’s eyes were studying every move she made. It made her uncomfortable. She wished she was walking behind him. Her
thoughts turned back to Baron Rolfe and remained there until Dimitri slowed down. They were approaching a group of men who walked their horses to the river. The horses were thirstily sucking up water. A few men were splashing their faces with water and filling their water skins. Akira thought she recognized the rear end of one horse. Her heart beat faster.
“Welcome to the alliance,” said Dimitri. The men kneeling at the water’s edge stood and turned to face Dimitri.
Akira was disappointed. None of the men were familiar. Her eyes looked further up the river bank.
One of the men wiped his hands and walked up to Dimitri. “And who might you be?” he asked, extending his hand for a handshake.
“I’m Marquis Dimitri, commander of the guardians of the Order of the White Rose.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. His companions visibly tensed, standing up cautiously.
Dimitri caught the man’s hand before he could withdraw it. “I’m looking for whoever is in charge of your battalion. Where will I find him?”
The men facing Dimitri looked to each other. Uncertainty showed in each of their faces.
“Well you must have some idea where I might find your leader.
The man who had spoken first cleared his throat. “He’ll be over there.” He pointed to where men were setting up a tent and building a cooking fire. Some of the soldiers were tethering horses. Others were still unsaddling. “Would you like me to take you to him? Point him out for you?
“That won’t be necessary soldier. I’ll know him when I see him.” Dimitri saw the man gauging the distance to his horse and weapons. He saw the cunning of the man and silently congratulated him for not reaching for his weapons.
Akira Rides Page 15
