Callie's Guardian: White Tigers of Brigantia (Book 1)

by Lisa Daniels

  Slowly, the young woman opened her eyes. The pain of the light was far easier to manage in small amounts. As she got acclimated to the area, Annora realized two things.

  The first point was that she was in a cave. Judging by the smell, no animals had used it recently and the fire in the center suggested that the camp had been made recently. Wondering if perhaps it had been made just for her, Annora decided she needed to explore the cave. Largely she was curious about the second point.

  There was no one around her.

  At least there was no one in the cave with her, a curiosity in and of itself since it was obvious someone had brought her here and taken care of her. There was a container of water near her bed and a small supply of medical supplies, although none of the bandages used to clean her up were around. That meant someone liked to keep the place clean, even if it was only temporary. And that meant it was someone who knew that keeping the smell of blood to a minimum was vital to surviving in the wild. It bothered the young hunter that there was no sign of her rescuer because she hated to be indebted to anyone. On the other hand, it also meant that she would not have to interact with another person either.

  Quickly she sat up and her hands went to the pouch pocket in her shirt. With a sigh, she lay back down for a moment, thankful that whoever had brought her here had not searched her. Had the person known what she did for a living, they likely would have left her to die or found some way to exploit her.

  She tried to remember everything that had happened, but most of the memories were hazy. Annora could remember someone carrying her and that she had tried to push the person away only to hear laughter as her body proved too weak. The feel of a damp cloth cleaning her arm was the next memory. There was some pain, but it was mild compared to what it should have been. At some point she had been propped up and been given something to drink.

  Touching her head again, the young woman sat up. Her head should have been fuzzy, but it wasn’t. It felt almost as if she had been asleep for a few days. Then she realized that was entirely possible. Whoever had taken care of her had not bothered to find out much about her. It was a strange realization that caused her to feel ill at ease. This realization meant it was highly likely that the person would have high demands for the favor.

  Annora cautiously stood up. Apart from a slight pain in her arm, her head and arm seemed mostly alright. Her ankle, on the other hand, was still going to be a problem. She could walk, but running and quick movements were clearly out of the question. Cursing her luck, Annora decided she would need to go spend time in a town until her ankle was mended. Three days should do it. Hoping that her competition would not make progress while she was recovering, Annora decided that she needed to figure out more about the person who had brought her here, and only then could she move on with what needed to be done.

  There must have been something in the knife. She gently touched her arm again as she stretched it. The muscles pulled and she could feel the scab that covered it, but it hurt more than it should have for that stage of recovery. Angry at herself for not having thought about that possibility before now, Annora began to silently walk around the cave. She wanted to see her rescuer before having to talk. Observation would tell her most of what she needed to know.

  The cave was not too deep and the camp area took up most of it. There was a second bed roll on the floor, but it did not look like it had been used recently. There were no weapons or food in the cave. The lack of weapons suggested that either the person never went anywhere without carrying his blades or he used magic and did not need weapons. Annora began to feel uncomfortable with the second option, although there was plenty of evidence that it was the more likely of the two. Two of her wounds were further advanced in the healing process than they should have been, particularly if she had been poisoned by the knife. Bone was much trickier; even mages could not quickly repair them. Suddenly Annora was very eager to get out of the cave because she had no desire to find out what a mage would want with her. A mage would already know what she did because they would not need to remove her papers to be able to read them. And what mages usually wanted was far more dangerous than anything even a dragon hunter did. She already had first-hand experience being indebted to a mage, and it was not a debt she ever wanted to incur again.

  With a sense of disgust, the dragon hunter moved toward the opening in the cave. There was a small, curvy tunnel that opened out into a dense wood. Though it looked like it was still on the early side of dawn, she could see the sunlight starting to make its way through the larger openings in the canopy. If a mage had in fact saved her, he would be able to track her, but it would take a while. If she moved now, there were very good odds that she would be able to lose any followers in the woods. Her scent could be easily mixed with some of the other humanoids, leading the mage to numerous dead ends. Careful of her ankle, Annora made her way out into the forest. The pace may be slow, but with care she should be able to make considerable progress. Though her luck had been pretty horrible to this point, it couldn’t get much worse before getting better, right?

  Annora already knew the answer to that, but it did not slow her pace. There was too much she needed to do and worrying about luck was someone only weak people did. She didn’t need luck – she just needed to be more cautious and focused.

  The young woman had travelled for more than half a day before things took a turn for the worse. Her stomach had become quite insistent that she eat, and when the dragon slayer remembered what she had last forced down her throat, she knew that she would have to hunt for food.

  Moving away from the last misleading trail toward a group of fairies arguing about territory, the young woman silently made her way toward a nearby river. Fish were the easiest meal because they could be eaten raw and would help her regain her strength quickly.

  She stepped out into the water and stood still for several moments, her eyes trained on the shadows around her feet. When she was pleased with the size of one shadow, her sword moved down and speared a trout. She smiled as it wiggled on the end of her sword.

  Then her eyes shifted and focused on the bank where she had been. Standing there was a large bear. Annora kept her calm and tossed the fish toward the bear, but the bear did not wait, having taken the movement as one of attack.

  There was no way she would be able to outrun the thing, not even if her ankle was well. With no choice, she sheathed her sword and dove into the deep part of the river. Grabbing a log, she turned to glare at the bear. It had returned to the fish and was happily eating it, almost as if Annora had never been there. As soon as the log neared a bank, Annora swam toward the sand shore. It was a much larger bank, indicating that she had actually moved back toward Defiance. Annoyed at the realization, she decided to press on until she reached the next town, Accident. She had been there a year ago and knew that it had not been through a boom the way Defiance had been. It was a bit rougher, but it reminded her of Marked Tree in that people didn’t really seem to judge each other.

  Her first thoughts once she was safely on land were about her weapons; she would need to try them as soon as possible, but there really wasn’t much she could do at the moment with her own clothes completely drenched. As she made her way over a hill, she was checking to make sure her papers at least were still secure. When she looked up, Annora realized that there were over a dozen men staring at her.

  “Well… shit,” she said.

  One of the men stood up. “Did you hear that, boys? She’s already accepted what’s coming next. We certainly don’t want to disappoint her, now, do we?”

  Several other men stood and leered at her.

  “This just really is not my week,” Annora muttered. The sword and dirk easily slid from their sheaths. The men stopped advancing because it was clear that blood was mixed in with the water dripping from the sword. Without any trace of blood on her, their immediate assumption was that the person who fought her had been the loser. Annora couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at the looks on t
heir faces, all over a dead fish.

  Unfortunately, the sound of a woman laughing at them caused the men to wake up and begin advancing again.

  “What did you do, take on a squirrel and win?” The large man seemed to think he was funny, and a few of the others laughed with him.

  Keeping her eyes on the ones moving in from the side, Annora replied, “More like an orthrus. But tell yourself whatever you need to, to give yourself the courage to attack a woman.”

  Again the men paused and looked at each other.

  The large one looked at her again, his face a cruel, gapped-tooth grin. “She’s bluffing, boys. Let’s show her what a real two-headed beast is.”

  The first two attacks came from either side of her seconds after the man spoke. Well aware of her limitations with her ankle, Annora dropped to the ground, plunging her swords in an upward arc. One of the men coughed and spluttered as the dirk ran through his Adams apple. The other didn’t make a sound as his head was sliced off.

  It was a short-term win, but now she was in an even worse position because there were still a lot more men to go and she was flat on the ground. Rolling under the spluttering man, she kicked with her good leg, sending him into the closest men and removing her dirk in a single move.

  The large man had moved around them, though, and he was now looking down at her angrily as she tried to get back up on her feet. He kicked at her stomach as she tried to dodge. His foot hit two of her ribs. Annora was able to roll away and come up on her feet, both blades pointed at the man.

  She glared at him. “Surely bandits have better things to do than to bother a traveler.”

  His smile widened as he thought she realized what was to come. “Oh, honey, this is much more personal now.” He took a step forward. Her sword flashed, connecting with his own. However, she was much stronger than he had expected, and his sword was knocked to the side. Now totally open, her dirk cut down, leaving a large gash across his chest as he tried to move out of the way.

  “Get the bitch!” he yelled at the men.

  Suddenly, Annora felt a sharp pain in her back. Turning on her good foot, she buried her dirk in the man’s face. Her mind tried to assess the damage. The blade had not gone all the way through, which meant it was likely a dagger. Reaching around, she pulled it from her back and plunged it into the next man to advance.

  Four down, one seriously hurt, but they were not nearly ready to give up. She was now seriously injured and the blood was streaming down her back.

  Annora growled at them as they began to advance.

  Suddenly the ground shook like it was about to tear apart. All eyes turned to the other end of the camp. Standing there, looking at the fight, was the largest dragon Annora had ever seen. It was black, its scales appearing to absorb all of the light around it. The cruel eyes of the creature did not leave the stunned fighters as it reached up a talon and shredded a bag of their provisions and tore apart a casket of their gun powder. The fear in the men’s eyes fled as they watched their stolen goods get destroyed. Their attention turned immediately to the dragon and they charged it with a stupidity that Annora saw too often in humans.

  She pulled the bag of gold from the closest man, as well as a small bag of provisions. Moving as fast as she dared with her ankle and new injury, the dragon slayer fled the scene.

  Her mind reeled at what she had seen. It clearly was not the one that had destroyed Marked Tree because the color was all wrong. Still, it was nerve-wracking to think that there was another one in the area. With a final glance over her shoulder, Annora saw the dragon easily taking down the bandits. If she hadn’t known better, the dragon’s face almost looked amused as it crushed the men.

  Turning to move further into the woods, she wondered why the creature didn’t just breathe fire and get it over with. Nor was it eating anyone, which was very unusual.

  He’s a smart one, her mind told her. Any creature that would kill without eating wasn’t worried about wasting food. Not many species had that luxury. No idea what he’s after, but hopefully that little camp will be enough to entertain him.

  Annora leaned against a tree, the blood loss taking its toll. A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she slumped to the ground.

  Feeling her mind descending again into darkness, she regretted that she was dying in the middle of nowhere.

  “Sorry, Bree. Not going to be able to keep that promise. Tell Naya…” Her voice faded as she sprawled out on the ground.

  A voice from a long way away responded, “Tell her yourself.” She felt arms move under her and the ground suddenly shifted under her.

  Annora tried to open her eyes, but all she could manage was a quick, “No angel would come for me, and I don’t want to come back as a demon. No deal. She deserves better, so you can just put me back and let me go into limbo.” The warmth was too much, and she pressed her face against a very muscular chest. She couldn’t help but let out a faint moan as she pressed further into it.

  A very masculine laugh rang in her ears and moved her head as she felt the warmth of a man holding her close. He said something, but she could not make it out as she once again lost consciousness.

  Chapter 4

  Prisoner of Pity

  The first thing Annora noticed upon waking was the soft ground under her and the clean feel of fabric. Her eyes shot open and she sat up, gripped by a sense of sheer panic. The stabbing pain in her back reminded her why that was a very bad idea. Her hand immediately went to her back as she tried to ease the pain. Though she had pulled it, the wound did not reopen. As she felt around, she could tell that someone had been very thorough with the bandage; it was thick and padded, meaning that it would be very difficult to reopen. Instinctively, she began to feel her stomach, wondering just how far in the dagger had gone. From the location where it had gone in, the young woman knew that it must have at least struck a kidney, if not worse.

  Next, the dragon slayer felt her arm. There was fresh blood showing under the gauze, but it didn’t look as bad as it had the night she had gotten the injury. One thing was clear, though: she had been poisoned, and that had likely been the cause of most of her bad fortune since that evening. It would have likely dulled her senses, muddled her brain, as well as making it so that her wound would not heal. It was a novice mistake to make, and she was appropriately ashamed of how she had neglected to tend it when it had first happened. If she had taken time to treat it at The Palace Paradise, then slept for the evening, everything would have turned out differently. Instead she had run off without taking care of things and it had cost her any potential gain she would have had.

  There was no doubt that Elian would be well on his way to finding and killing the dragon.

  Releasing a very loud sigh, Annora decided to find out where she was and who had rescued her. Judging by what she remembered, this rescue was not by a mage. She had never met a magic wielder with such well-defined and built muscles. A blush rose to her cheeks as she remembered how she had nestled against the chest and the way it had rumbled with laughter.

  “Oh, gods,” she muttered. “That was practically an invitation.” Her hands moved to her papers, but they were still unmoved. With a slight twist of her head she wondered if perhaps there was something else the man wanted.

  Gently turning and swinging her legs over the other side of the bed, Annora realized there was a small platter of food just within reach. As much as she wanted to ignore it, the sharp pain in her stomach reminded her that she had been woefully underfed over the last few… days? She had no idea how long she had been unconscious the first time, let alone the second time. The last thing she had eaten was at least two days ago, and it couldn’t be called a proper meal. The food in front of her was far too tempting, particularly on such an empty stomach. Reaching out a hand, she picked up the apple and began to eat it as slowly as she could manage. As the food hit her stomach, she began to feel better. Next, she pulled up a small plate of fish and rice, and she polished it off much quicker than the apple. Although
she wanted to be wary of the water, there was no point now that she had already eaten the food.

  As soon as she felt full, Annora carefully put her feet on the floor. Her ankle still hurt, but it had been wrapped several times so that its movement was limited.

  “Someone knows something about tending wounds. What could they possibly want from me, then?” Annora stared at her ankle as she tried to give her thoughts voice. Her mind still felt off, and she knew that hearing her thoughts would help her better process them.

  As soon as she was standing, the dragon slayer’s attention was drawn to movement to the side. Slowly she turned and realized it was a mirror. She could not hold the laugh in and she ended up sitting back down, grasping at her back as it hurt as her body shook. Her hair was an absolute wreck, almost as if she were one of the Wildlings from the nightmares of her youth. It had initially startled her until she had recognized the face under it.

  Standing again, she moved to the mirror. The cut on her head was still covered, but no blood showed through the bandages. Curious to see how it looked, Annora gently peeled the bandage back, and was shocked to find that the wound was little more than a scar.

  Her fingers went up to feel it as she asked her reflection, “Now, how did you heal so quickly?” Her bluish-green eyes sparkled back with the same curiosity. The dragon hunter removed the bandage and placed a much smaller one over the nearly mended cut. Her hair would hide the scar well, making it almost impossible to tell that she had ever been hurt. Breathing a sigh of relief, she was glad that she didn’t have any more obvious wounds to explain to Bree. Annora hated when they bathed together because Bree would always scold her for new bruises and scars, and she always knew which ones were new. Often Bree would act more like a mother than a younger friend, up until men were involved, then it was all Annora had been able to do to keep the girl in check.