by Janet Durbin
Shyanne listened to the sincerity in his voice. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Joseph responded with his own passion.
"I love you, Joseph. I love you so very much. I have from the very start,” she said between kisses.
The couple reluctantly separated and walked a few yards away, their fingers intertwined. They wanted to sit and talk without disturbing the sleeping man. Yet, they wanted to be in the vicinity when he did wake.
Once they were settled, Joseph repeated, “I love you, Shyanne.” Cupping her hand with his, he continued, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you grant me that pleasure?"
"I love you too. But this relationship can't possibly work. I will stay young and vigorous while you will grow old and wither away. I can't ask you to live with that cold, hard reality."
"My love for you is not based on whether you outlive me. It's based on the time I have with you. Quality of time, not quantity. That's what's important to me. Can you say the same?"
The passion with which he spoke took her breath away. She gazed deep into his eyes and saw the sincerity and love in his words. “Oh Joseph ... yes, yes I can. I want to spend as much time with you as I can. I have been alone for so long.” Shyanne started to cry again. Joseph wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body.
He rocked her back and forth. With his hand, he reached up and brushed away the loose strands of hair, gently kissing the supple neck beneath. Her sobs subsided as she closed her eyes. She fell asleep in his arms, comforted by his touch. He lay her down and rose to check on Drayco. The dark man was breathing easier and did not show any signs of distress. Joseph moved the blanket covering him higher before returning to Shyanne.
He had grabbed a blanket before coming back and covered both of them with it as he lay down beside the sleeping woman. Joseph put his arm over her. She snuggled against him. Thoughts of Shyanne danced through his mind. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have her. He only wished his mother had lived long enough to see her dreams fulfilled. He fell asleep as the stars above twinkled.
* * * *
Drayco woke to the stars twinkling down at him from the heavens above. He blinked several times to make sure it was still nighttime and not because he was dead. When he decided he was alive, he realized the pain in his body was gone. He recalled what had happened, how he had gone for too long without blood, which caused him to become painfully weak and fall off his horse, dislocating his shoulder in the process.
The feeling of impending death, which had hung above him for far too long, was becoming a distant memory. The image of his sister putting a knife to her wrist, cutting it to give him some of her blood, was still foremost in his thoughts. He also remembered the torment he had put her through by needing to kill a defenseless man. The indecisiveness when she held the knife at the captured mercenary's neck struck Drayco hard. He never wanted to put her through that again.
He turned his head and saw the other two snuggled together under a blanket, asleep. A feeling that someone was standing uncomfortably close caused him to turn his head quickly to the other side, making the world spin as if he was flying in a tornado. After the world stopped its mad race, he saw a large, ominous shadow standing an arm's distance from him. He was too weak to fight off anything, especially something that big, and was about to call out when he was hit in the face with a warm, moist breath.
"Bravaro, you God forsaken beast from hell ... you nearly put me in my grave,” he whispered to the horse towering above him.
He attempted to reach up with his right arm. The sling, and the pain that followed, reminded him of the injury to his body. Sweat broke out on his forehead and upper lip as the throbbing inched its way through him, laughing at his discomfort. He exhaled the breath he held through pursed lips once the pain ebbed to a dull ache.
"Come here, Bravaro, I need your help to get up.” He kept his voice low so as not to wake the others only a few paces away.
Drayco extended the left arm. To his relief, no monstrous pain arose from the movement. He gripped the reins, and with teeth clenched firmly together, pulled himself into a sitting position. The lack of blood reared its ugly head. It caused the world surrounding him to revolve in a sick fashion. After a couple of deep breaths, the blinding haze and sickening spin faded.
Bravaro had been trained well by the burly man. He stood firm as the dark twin grabbed the bridle and worked his way into a kneeling position. Drayco bowed his head after achieving that small feat because the pain in his right shoulder had increased with the awkward movement. After a lot of resolve, he wobbled into an upright position. The horse glanced back at the man standing on very unsteady appendages as if to ask, “now what?"
Drayco whispered to himself, “Well, I'm up. Now all I have to do is get into the saddle."
Once he was sure the ground wasn't going to rush up to meet him, he gripped the reins in his right hand and inched his way down Bravaro's side. At the saddle, he tried to lift his left leg into the stirrup, but was unable to hold his balance long enough. The only thing that kept him from falling was the death grip he had on the saddle horn.
That won't work, he thought. I'll have to find another way. He clung to the horse and tried to figure out how to solve his dilemma.
The woods were in his peripheral vision. Looking at them, he came up with an idea on how to get aboard the horse and started toward them. Halfway there, he had to stop and catch his breath.
He leaned against the horse, panting, his lungs screaming for more air. A sharp pain knifed through his sides with each intake of breath, and his thigh muscles burned. They calmed a little during the short break.
"I feel like I've just run a marathon. I haven't let myself get this bad ever. I don't plan on doing it again if I can help it."
The pain subsided to a dull ache and his breathing slowed to a more manageable rate as he continued toward his objective. He made it to the forest line without having to stop again, but he had to lean against a tree before he could do much of anything else.
This had better not last much longer, Drayco thought as he paused. I've got to free Drizzle. I've let him down once already and I'm not about to leave him in the hands of that moron, Ruben.
Drayco's thoughts grew darker, darker than they had with the pair that kidnapped him. A frown appeared. The heart in his chest sped up at the thought of the things he would do to Ruben when he got his hands on him, him and the Boss. His teeth ground with each movement of his jaw and he clenched his hand around the reins, imagining he was gripping something else.
"Don't worry, Ruben. You will know soon enough how I feel about the way you conduct business.” Determination filled his words.
An instant later, his heart skipped several beats, similar to a rock thrown across a pond. It split in half as he once again remembered the look in Shyanne's eyes. Utter sorrow replaced the deadly hatred he'd felt moments ago. His left hand fell limp beside his body. The right remained in the sling, unmoving.
"I'm so sorry, Shyanne. I hope you will forgive me for leaving you like this. What we once had is as gone as the past. I'm doing what I feel is best to protect you from any more harm ... because of me."
He was leaving under the cover of darkness because he did not want to see that look again. It hurt too much. It brought back memories of the bad times, the times when the virus had caused so much suffering.
"The old adage was right ... you can never go home,” he whispered softly to himself.
He looked in the direction of the sleeping couple. With his strength somewhat returned, he turned away, pulling Bravaro behind him. He found what he was looking for a couple of paces away. A majestic tree that had once stood tall and proud, reaching for the sea of blue above, now lay withered and dead, the base of the trunk eaten away by termites.
Drayco brought the horse alongside, and while using the animal as a support, stepped up on the crumbling trunk. The maneuver was hard enough. With one arm out of commission, a
nd in his weakened state, it was all the more difficult. He hoped the tree was strong enough to hold his weight. Bark broke away under his boots, almost causing him to crash to the ground. He managed to stay on and slowly make it up the side of the horse. Carefully balancing himself, he got into the saddle.
He vaguely remembered the direction Joseph had gone when he left to fulfill the task given, and rode toward it. In the faint moonlight, he strained to see the ground below. Eventually, Bravaro's distinctive hoof mark stood out in the soft dirt. They led to a trail that disappeared into the woods. He guided the horse inside. No other path large enough for man and rider led from this one. It made it easy for the dark twin to continue in the right direction.
He found the area with the ruined building where Joseph must have encountered the mercenaries. A bloody smear in the grass stood out like a sore, leading him to wonder what happened. The clearing was large, without any discernable breaks in the foliage. Not knowing which way to go, he needed to check the area for tracks, but dared not get off Bravaro in his present state. Instead, he guided the horse around the clearing until he located the tracks he sought.
"They sure took off in a hurry.” He could tell by the distance between one set of hoof prints and the others. “They must have fled as if their lives depended on it."
The tracks led from the ruined building toward a clump of bushes wedged between two large trees. Drayco tapped Bravaro with his heels, guiding the horse through the broken branches. When they emerged on the other side, a path almost too small to use met them. He was able to see several horse prints and knew this was the right direction. It disappeared deeper into the thick, overgrown wall of green.
The path widened to the width of two horses after an hour of riding. Drayco started to feel the weakness creep up again. It was not to the point it had been earlier, before the rejuvenating blood, but he knew another source had to be found soon or he would be in trouble. Ignoring the weakness, he kept going. He had to find the people ahead of him. They would lead him to Drizzle, and to Ruben. This, he was certain.
"Hold on, Drizzle. I said I'd come for you, and I will.” Drayco prodded Bravaro to greater speed and vanished into the dark cover caused by the trees and the night.
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Chapter Thirteen
Five days after escaping from the spiderbat lair, Drizzle continued to ride in front of the big man. His feet were padded to prevent another slashing, like when he had dug his claws in after being flung over a broad shoulder. Ruben had hit him on the head, knocking him out before any more damage could be done.
"I'm going to enjoy turning you into a nice rug to lie on once I have the Boss’ okay to kill you,” Ruben said. “For now, that is the only thing keeping you alive."
Six people rode with him. All were men. The women who had made it out were lost in the woods with other members of the party. They'd become separated during the hasty departure and Ruben had not waited for them. He particularly missed Viola. She had wonderful fingers, which would have helped immensely with the scabbed, itchy lines on his back. That, plus her many other attributes that he loved to explore.
Something else lost during the mad dash was their supplies and food. They were back with the lousy creatures from hell, forcing the survivors to live by whatever the land had to offer.
A sigh of relief escaped from one of the men behind Ruben when the trees ahead thinned and a dirt road became visible. Whispers about the joys civilization had to offer started. Somewhere to the right, the faint clanking of metal objects echoed to the riders, ending all conversation. The mercenaries remained hidden and watched as a wagon covered in bright, cheerful material pulled by a pair of white horses passed by.
"Damn Wanderers. Never could stand them,” Ruben muttered more to himself than to anyone in particular. He might be a thief and a murderer, but he had standards, and being a show off was not one of them.
Three wagons in all went by, each with a pair of white horses in front. Men and women dressed in equally bright and cheerful clothes sat on the seats. Some held instruments. Others clapped their hands or accompanied the tune that filled the air with their voice. Songs and laughter floated back to the mercenaries. A milk goat pulled by the last wagon brought up the rear. Several children leaned out the back and watched it, laughing like the adults.
Ruben and his men remained out of sight. They did not want to explain their presence to anyone, much less this band of useless vagabonds. None of his group was in a talking mood right now anyway.
"Where do we go from here?” a stocky man with a deep tan named Romero asked. His long, flowing hair was like Ruben's, only it was wavy, and he was a half a foot shorter than the big man.
"We go to Grandfield as planned,” Ruben stated. “The Boss will be waiting for us there."
"How do you know the Boss will be there?” another man with short, curly, blond hair named Paul questioned. “How does the Boss know where we are?"
"He knows."
"Are you sure this is the right road?” Paul watched the Wanderers disappear from sight with contempt.
"This is the right road. We have another day's ride ahead of us. By late tomorrow or early the next day we will have a tall mug of ale before us and a fine woman to hold.” His wide grin was infectious.
Grinning in return, the men sifted their positions in the saddle, anxious to get underway.
Ruben looked down at the cat in front of him. “And you, my friend, will be the bait to a well laid trap.” He reached down and scratched the fur between the big cat's shoulders.
Drizzle wanted to move away from such a disgusting touch, but his position and the restraints holding him would not allow it. He swore that when this nightmare was over, no matter how much he hated water, he was going to soak for a month.
"Maybe I'll have your hide tanned into a blanket instead. I like the feel of it.” He saw the discomfort his touch gave the cat, and smiled.
Ruben guided Wind Racer out of the woods and onto the road. With a backward glance at the group following, he said, “Let's not go too fast. That way we give our comrades a chance to catch up and avoid the unwelcome company moving ahead of us. Plus, I have a particular fondness for a blonde with the missing slowpokes.” He gave them a sly smile and a wink.
The men murmured their agreement as they started toward the west, toward the town called Grandfield.
* * * *
Drayco rode through the rest of the night, ignoring the needs that wracked his body. The need for sleep, the need for blood, he wasn't sure which was worse. On several occasions, the reins almost slipped out of his cold hand, and he nearly toppled out of the saddle when he closed his eyes. Strong determination to find Drizzle and keep the promise he made kept him on the horse.
He was coming to a bend in the path when a noise reverberated from ahead. It sounded like a female humming. The trees and the underlying brush were thick and made it difficult for him to see the source. He slowed, cautiously rounding the corner.
A woman stood off to the side of the path. She was coming out from behind a bush with her back facing him and had not noticed his arrival. Drayco pulled on Bravaro's reins, backing him out of sight.
"What's taking you so long, Viola?” a man shouted from farther up the path.
"Hey! Back off! It takes a lady time to get herself back together!"
"Ha! You ... a lady! That's a good one. When you become a lady, I'll become a rizbak. Catch up to us when you're done ... your majesty. We're moving on.” The sound of hooves hitting the ground faded in the distance. Viola muttered to herself about them leaving without her.
"Wait until I tell Ruben that you left me, you stinking rizbak butt. You'll wish you had stayed then."
Drayco watched Viola straighten her clothes as she walked in the direction of her horse. She was small in stature, yet stocky in muscularity. Her long, blonde hair shone like honey in the sun's rays. Tight pants hugged her shapely hips. The ties for her shirt were open, revealing far mor
e than any respectable woman should. A sword that reminded Drayco of the kind used in medieval times hung from her side. She would have been inviting to the dark man if he had not already known what kind of a person she really was.
The need to drink grew stronger with the sight of the woman. A twinge of pain started in his abdomen. It crept from one side to the other and back. Drayco decided now was the time to make the most of the opportunity handed to him.
He urged Bravaro forward. Viola heard the movement and whirled around to see who approached. A hand gripped the hilt of her impressive sword. From the way she held her stance, he was certain she knew how to use it. Fortunately, she kept it in the sheath. He kept Bravaro's forward pace steady and unthreatening. The sun was shining over Drayco's shoulder, forcing Viola to put a hand up to block its brightness.
Viola frowned as she watched him ride toward her. “Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded.
"Nothing, my fair lady. I only want to continue on to Grandfield."
She moved to block his way. “And what business would you have there?” She tightened her grip on the sword resting on her hip.
"My business is my own, but you're more than welcome to ride with me if you wish. From what I can see,” he made a show of looking her up and down, “I think we could get to know each other very well during the journey.” Bravaro was almost to Viola when Drayco pulled on the reins, stopping him short.
Viola moved her hand away from her sword. She still could not get a good look at the man on the horse because of the sun shining in her eyes, but she liked what he said. At least he knows a lady when he sees one, unlike those ungrateful slugs who left me behind. She gave the stranger one of her winning smiles and closed the gap between them in a sensuous manner.
With the stranger's body between her and the sun, Viola could see his features better. His black hair against such white skin gave him an ominous look; the dark circles under his piercing eyes didn't help. She was beginning to think it had been a bad idea to be left behind.
