by L Shannon
* * * * *
Bailey dragged the galloping horse to a stop and grabbed at his head, desperately fighting off the fear that coursed through his body. It wasn’t his own thoughts that had forced him to run from Tarvyn. Some foreign mind had trapped his and sent him fleeing for his life. As it finally released him, he sagged, almost falling from the horse.
I’m sorry, Captain Bailey. I needed you away from the Fathers of Trinity so that the destiny of all will be as it should.
Then the velvety-soft voice was gone, leaving him gasping with the emptiness, and terrified of what would happen next.
The horse danced nervously in a circle and when it turned back to the direction he’d come, he saw that the monks had moved Tarvyn to the prepared post.
Tarvyn hadn’t escaped as they’d planned. Something had gone wrong. As he watched, Tarvyn was bound to the post, and the wood was lit beneath him.
* * * * *
Within minutes the cart and Tarvyn with it was dragged next to the post and pyre of wood. He was bound in place, but they left Tascrina’s Bindings on him the whole time. The weight of the holy relic drained him of strength and kept him from fighting back.
Now he was bound and about to be set afire. His body ached from fighting the unbreakable straps, and his mind faced the fact that he’d been wrong. Their plan wouldn’t work. He would die here at the hands of these monsters.
His soul screamed out at the unfairness of it all. Two thousand years of devoted service, and he would die the same day in which he’d regained his soul. He’d die just when he’d asked for a chance to live.
Bailey… At least Bailey was away and safe.
The fat monk, Father Gregory, motioned, and one of the others lit the pyre. The dry wood crackled and smoked but took several minutes to burst into true flames.
In that time of waiting, he was left to wonder if the fire would burn or if it would do nothing. He didn’t know. What he did know was if he lived through the fire, they would only think of some other test and keep testing until they did manage to kill him.
The smoke and heat rose around him, cutting out the Creator’s blessed light and leaving him fighting to draw breath.
Then with a rush, the fire burst up over him, the flames biting at his flesh until he screamed with the agony.
* * * * *
The scream cut through Bailey’s soul. “Tarvyn!” Already he had the horse pounding back toward them.
He had to stop the testing. He couldn’t lose Tarvyn like this, not now after finally finding him.
Before he’d covered half the distance, his men, the soldiers he had once fought beside, surged out to face him, to keep him from getting back to Tarvyn.
Thompson was at the head of the line on his own charger. Another man rode to his right. The rest of the men were on foot, scattered out to either side.
He didn’t want to hurt his men. They were good and honorable. They didn’t deserve to die because they believed the monks. He drove the horse straight at them. He would ride between the two riders and not risk harming the men on foot.
The horse kept its dangerous speed, rushing headlong into battle as it had been trained.
He had no weapon but his small belt knife. It would do nothing against the men he had made sure were trained for the hardest battles.
However, the horse he’d taken had been saddled and prepared to travel. As he neared the men, he reached down and found a short sword in a saddle scabbard.
He drew it and leaned low in the saddle to brace himself.
Within feet of the other horses, he saw they were prepared for him. Thompson and Jonah raised a rope between them, which hit him in the chest, stealing his breath and knocking him from the running horse.
Chapter Twelve
Tarvyn felt the blow to Bailey’s body as if it were to his own. Bailey was hurt, and he could do nothing to help him. I’m sorry, my lover.
“Save your regrets, young Tarvyn.” The low, silky voice blew into his ear as gentle hands released the bindings.
The flames still swirled over him, but the bite was gone from their touch. Who was freeing him? He’d expected Pahele might come at the last moment, but the voice was feminine.
Pahele would have come, but he is searching for his brother.
Pahele’s brother was Sadrina’s father, and the dark lord had been missing for longer than Tarvyn had been alive. Realization hit him. The one at risk here helping him must be Sadrina.
My Queen!
Yes, Tarvyn. Now, I’ve freed you so that you may see to collecting anom’su. Hide your form for as long as you can. Go west toward the cliff shore.
Suddenly, he was pushed backwards from the fire, and he watched in horror as his queen stepped forward in a burst of power, which left the humans cowering before her. Those same humans who had spoken so casually of testing him as a demon would now see the true strength behind their brethren. His queen was like all Royal Tascryn. She was the power that fed them all. If they were wise, the men would stay on the ground and worship her as she deserved.
This is my duty, Tarvyn. I will see to it and come to no harm. Find your Captain and be gone from this place.
He could do nothing other than rush to do her bidding. He spun and fled toward were Bailey was surrounded by his own men. He took control of the riderless horse’s mind and forced it to run back into the men, between them and to Bailey’s side. Bailey! I’m free, take the horse and ride west. I’ll follow.
He felt his lover’s resolve and watched as Bailey leaped smoothly onto the horse and spun the beast toward the west. He set a hard pace, but the others pursued him. Although he could tell the men didn’t wish to hurt their captain, the two on horses raced dangerously close to his flanks.
Tarvyn raced on foot over the uneven ground. Only his inhuman speed let him catch the fleet horses. Before he could think of how to draw off the men, a rumble filled the air and the ground shook free of its mooring, the edge of the cliff falling away.
The horses stumbled. One fell. Bailey’s spooked, unseating him, and running wildly back the way they’d come. The ground continued to shake, but his men dismounted and cornered Bailey against the crumbling edge of the earth.
Tarvyn couldn’t hear what they said, nor could he guess what they might do next, because the unsteady ground under Bailey’s feet fell away.
* * * * *
For the second time in far too short of a period, Bailey felt nothing beneath him but air. And in that moment, he wondered if this was the way he would die.
Then Tarvyn leapt over the edge and dove toward him, joining him in certain death.
“Easy, Bailey. Synn wings are good for more than caressing a lover.” There was laughter in Tarvyn’s words as his arms came around him in a firm embrace and together they clung with the wind surrounding them.
Like a breath of heaven, the billowing silk of Tarvyn’s wings expanded and caught them, cradling them safely.
The fight was gone.
They were free and together.
I love you, Tarvyn. He couldn’t hold back the words. Just being with Tarvyn, knowing they were together and safe, filled him with joy and a deeper contentment he’d never expected.
I know. There was a smugness to Tarvyn that he understood well.
That didn’t mean he was going to let Tarv start playing games or deny the truth that was between them, the truth that he could feel in Tarvyn’s mind with every thought, and in his body with every touch. You love me, too.
He couldn’t see Tarvyn’s face as they rushed over the land at a speed that should have terrified him, but he felt his lover’s smile in his mind and the tightening of his arms wrapping him in a cocoon of security.
I do love you, Bailey, more than anything. “Where would you like to go?”
“I hear there is a new world to the west. We could see what that land offers.”
“Then to the west we will go.” May the winds be favorable for us there on those new shores.
The
End
Author Bio
L. Shannon, the author, came into existence in June of 2004. Ms. Shannon’s always been a reader and lover of books, but never considered writing until one night when she ran out of books to read… She began writing that very night as the first line defense in a battle against insomnia. Her writing has steadily grown into a war against reality. Her friends kindly say reality never stood a chance. The L. Shannon’s novels have expanded to fill an entire world with paranormal wonders including Valàfrn werewolves, Tascryn demons, blood-sucking vampires, sexy selkies and many, many more. Be careful if you choose to enter Ms. Shannon’s hunk-filled world. You may never wish to leave…
In the time Shannon doesn’t spend writing, she’s kept busy with bothering her husband, showing dogs, gardening and watching over her four Butterfly Koi ponds. You can learn more about her writing and her life at www.lshannon.com.
