by D. R. Grady
“Calm yourself and tell me the last time you saw her.” He paced the entire expanse of the bedchamber, but he didn’t need to.
“She was here this morning, but then she left for her duties after we finished her toilet, as she always does. I spent the day preparing her gown for this evening. She must have come while I was out seeking the lace I needed to finish her frock.” The maid’s knuckles turned white. They nearly matched her face.
“Why do you say she must have come?”
“She was here.” The maid pointed a shaking finger toward the bed.
His heart sank. Stefana’s cape, the one she wore on chilly days, sprawled across the end of the bed. She had worn that cape today. His insides chilled. If someone took her and not her cape, they must not care much about her welfare.
The wind tore through the trees outside, plummeting the temperature to near freezing.
He nodded to the maid but didn’t take further time to question her. Stewart, the assistant Castle Keeper, would do so, with better results, as this maid knew him.
Lajos could smell the waves of terror from the woman, and he understood. Aasguard warriors, especially one of the tallest of the lot, did appear scary, a benefit of their training, experience, and longevity. Wheeling about, he strode across the room, taking in all the smells and retraced the path the men had used.
“What is wrong?” Vidar the Loyal, his Aasguard brother, the King of Montequirst, and therefore the head of security in this country, approached him.
“Stefana has been abducted.”
His brother’s jaw flapped. “That is not possible.”
With a tight jaw and nausea, Lajos pointed out the route the kidnappers had taken, and also showed where Stefana had struggled.
“We’re at least an hour behind them.” The muscle in Vidar’s jaw pumped. He whipped out his handheld crystal and rapped out orders as he alerted the border patrol and everyone within the country. “Stefana’s twin brother is scheduled to go back on patrol until he begins his new position.”
“He’s still set to train the females?”
“He is. However, the training obviously hasn’t started.”
No need to state that Stefana therefore had no way to defend herself.
Vidar swung out of the room and hurried down the hallway. “Lajos, follow me.”
With no answers, Lajos snatched up Stefana’s cape and followed his brother.
Chapter 2
“What have you done to her?” The male voice was brusque and unknown.
But then at this point she wouldn’t have recognized her own twin brother. Her entire body hurt so much, nausea bubbled at the back of her throat, which also burned.
At least she wasn’t on the back of the horse any longer. Darkness had fallen at some point, so she no longer wore the blindfold, but the lack of light now hindered her vision. Mercifully, they weren’t moving. She huddled under the dubious protection of a scrubby tree, still bound, but not gagged. Someone had propped her upright, at least.
Rough hands tipped up her chin and shoved a water flask against her lips. The same fingers pinched her chin until her mouth opened and water poured into her mouth. It set off her gag reflex and she immediately threw up again.
“Blast, Higgins, what are you doing? She just heaved her insides. Give her a moment.” Another voice, also not recognizable, joined the first.
“Why isn’t she covered?” This third voice sounded learned, but not happy.
“She’s got her gown on.” One of the men defended. Stefana couldn’t open her eyes.
Shivering in the cold, she wondered if it was possible to be more miserable right now. As a pampered Montequirstian, she wasn’t used to such conditions. It couldn’t get worse.
Jagged lightning pierced the darkness as thunder clapped with bone jarring intensity. The heavens opened.
Stefana bowed her head and wished for death.
“You’re wearing a uniform which is warm and a heavy coat. She’s wearing a court gown and nothing else you idiots.” The man shouted something else, but another boom of thunder deafened her, and she couldn’t discern what he spouted at the ruffians.
Something smelly but warm draped over her shoulders, and a hood covered her sopping hair. Which had long since escaped the elegant hairdressing exacted by her maid that morning. It wicked the rain water so her entire back was thoroughly wet now.
“Now what do we do?” The learned man sounded frustrated.
Stefana would have snorted if she’d had the energy. But her stomach acid had left a trail of fire in its attempt to flee her body. She understood. If she could have fled, she would too. Bound wrist and ankle, stumbling around in a storm, in a place she didn’t know, in the dark, seemed like a bad combination.
She might not be the most capable of women warriors, but even she understood her limited survival skills. Her nominal abilities paired with a fleeing attempt would prove a disastrous combination.
The learned man kneeled in front of her, but she couldn’t make out his face for the pouring rain. He offered her the flask, and she drank, carefully. It helped, and the careful swallows he allowed her helped to ease the fire in her throat.
She saw no point in talking, as the rain roared in their ears.
One of the men swung her onto the saddle, this time side saddle, and secured her, perhaps a good thing as she didn’t have the energy to remain on the horse otherwise. The storm continued, although the lightning strikes moved away. Still, Stefana knew enough about nature to know riding through this sort of weather was dangerous.
Then again, sitting under a tree wasn’t much better, so she sighed and kept her thoughts to herself. The wind whipped the rain sideways, so if she’d had dry spots, the industrious rain penetrated any and all parts.
She sent wistful thoughts winging toward home. Lajos would come after her. Stefana did not allow herself to doubt for a moment that the tall, dark haired Aasguard warrior with the piercing light blue eyes would find her.
Then her heart expanded. Raene had promised to send Aern, the black dragon who guarded the queen’s treasury, if someone took her. Aern, the sweet, clumsy, fierce dragon—a known and reliable source of dragonfyre.
He had used it to vaporize Kjell, a warrior who had given both her and Raene the creeps. Kjell had protested Vidar’s right to be the king, seeking that place for himself; Aern took exception.
The wily dragon proved why Vidar was very much the man for the job, as dragonfyre did char their clothing, but not an Aasguard warrior. The highest-ranking warriors in any land, they weren’t entirely human, but were more. While born human, their training and knowledge eventually transformed them into something greater.
Aasguards were touted as the strongest, bravest, most loyal warriors alive. And they enjoyed very long lives. Although from what she’d gathered from Vidar, enjoy wasn’t the proper word. They endured long, lonely years, feeling marriage was frowned upon for their kind.
Vidar paved the way for other Aasguard warriors to attempt marriage and parenthood. He showed no signs of regret at his decision to marry Raene. The pair were so well suited it caused minor heartache to watch them together.
Such endearing love was difficult to witness as a single person. Did she want that for herself?
Absolutely.
Riding a soggy horse through a rainstorm while bound negated all hope however.
Stefana shut her eyes and prayed Lajos and Aern would find her soon.
“Why are we heading deeper into the castle?” Lajos kept pace with his brother. But he had begun to doubt Vidar’s sanity.
“This was Raene’s old bedchamber.” Vidar shoved open the door and crossed the expanse.
“Okay.” Lajos bit his tongue so he wouldn’t utter the rude comment hovering on the tip.
“Her parents chose this room for a reason.” He opened a hidden door Lajos should have noticed, but didn’t. They both had to duck in order to squeeze through the maiden-sized door.
Then Vidar set
a grueling pace. Lajos didn’t mind. They passed a sparkling lake and rounded a corner into the massive cavern Vidar and Aern had guarded.
Now, Aern and Fricassa, Lajos’s dragon companion for centuries, resided here and guarded Raene’s treasures. Fricassa caught sight of him and barreled at him. He squeezed her but was thankful Vidar spoke fast and loud to Aern. He succinctly explained Stefana’s kidnapping.
Aern bellowed, with an impressive show of dragonfyre, at the news Vidar carried.
“Save that for when we find Stefana.” Lajos didn’t have any idea how much fyre dragons stored at a time, and he certainly didn’t want Aern to run out.
Anyone peering at this particular dragon would doubt such an occurrence. Built along dinosaur lines, Aern towered as tall as many trees. Every bit as massive in girth as well, most didn’t argue with Aern. Pure black with green eyes, he cut an impressive picture. A perfect counter for Fricassa’s petite frame, adorned with green scales and black eyes.
Of the two, Fricassa proved more graceful, as Aern tended to trip over two of his four feet on a regular basis.
“We will find her.” Aern worked not to appear intimidating and scary. He often failed at this first impression, but his cultured speech and impressive manners cut some of the overwhelmingness of his size.
Unless provoked, like now. From the flashing green eyes, Lajos read enraged and deadly as the dragon’s current emotional state. The dragon’s slashing tail and bursts of dragonfyre indicated his willingness to go to war.
“Let’s go.” Lajos wanted to slam his fist repeatedly into the granite wall. Since he knew very well that would hurt, and probably break his hand, he refrained.
Aern headed to the door leading outside after kissing his mate goodbye. Raene scurried into the cavern, her hair half up on one side, but dangling on the other.
“Stefana?” More than a little angst peppered her tone.
“We’re going after her now.”
“You don’t know where she is.”
Both Lajos and Aern stared at her but refrained from speaking. Vidar finally stirred, and as he wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist, spoke with a manufactured calm. “They can track her. It’s easy for a dragon and Aasguard.”
“Aasguard warriors and dragons can track people?” Raene blinked in the face of this new information.
“Yes. The person we’re after glows like a beacon.”
“We’re losing time.” Lajos bowed to his sister-in-law and hustled Aern out of the chamber.
Aern waited for him to alight before the massive dragon flapped his wings and they set off. Vidar had once stated that Aern wasn’t a great flier, but it appeared he did fine as long as he had proper incentive.
As Vidar had stated, when they sought someone, a beacon flared above said person. It didn’t take him long to spot the weak rays.
A muffled exclamation from Aern matched Lajos’ own. The waning light of this beacon indicated poor health. Whoever snatched her had not treated her well.
He growled low and viciously. His sword hand clenched and flexed over his sword handle.
Thunder rumbled, but Aern didn’t so much as flinch. He flew like a falcon intent on prey. And that’s what whoever had snatched Stefana had become.
Prey.
Every muscle in Lajos’ body tightened. In his mind, everything settled. All the chaos brought on by panic dissipated. He entered a warrior’s battle-ready calmness and greeted it like an old friend.
Now was not the time to lose his mind, so he didn’t. Taking a deep, damp breath, neither he nor Aern protested when the threatening rain offered up its promise.
The downpour would blind a human. Fortunately, he and Aern weren’t plagued by human frailties.
The size of the dragon definitely made a difference. Lajos’ feet didn’t come close to trailing the ground as they did on Fricassa. Toy sized compared to her mate, who was the largest dragon Lajos had ever encountered.
Aern’s impressive size wasn’t what would win this battle though. Tiny Fricassa could have annihilated those who took Stefana with the same amount of skill. Fricassa’s size deceived. She used this to her advantage.
Should the need occur, she and Aern were perfectly capable of changing their size.
Aern’s wings flapped with a vengeance through the deluge, not in the list bit dismayed by the weather. Lajos had lived long enough to not be daunted by it either. The weather wasn’t even a hindrance in his mind. It just was.
Nothing would stop them from regaining Stefana.
Nothing.
She belonged to Montequirst. Therefore, he and Aern would retrieve her and he had already formulated new security measures for her. This wouldn’t stop until she had safely wed, and he entertained a few ideas about her wedded state.
Although skittish, Stefana was also wise, and mature. She might be young, but like Raene, had grown up in environs unlike many of their peers. They had been trained in how to run a country from the time of their births.
An image of their quarry arose in his mind. Tall, with hair so dark, it nearly matched Aern’s black scales and equally dark, luminous eyes, Stefana was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She embodied everything a woman should be.
Not that he’d ever formed an opinion before. But based on his brother’s nuptials, he thought it safe to do so now. Never before had he felt a kick to the gut when peering at a woman.
This phenomenon only happened when he set eyes on Stefana.
Now, his resolve hardened. A true prize—as the acting princess combined with the knowledge she retained on the nation, in addition to her own personal wealth. She had admitted to him that she had family members who had left her and her brother wealth. Her father’s adeptness at managing funds had only increased that wealth, and Stefana had learned his skills from an early age as well.
Paired with her mother’s impressive strategic ability and Stefana’s beauty, she was worthy of being queen. His stomach knotted.
That’s what this trip through the rain was about.
“Ostard,” Aern spit, as though reading his thoughts. But his statement had more to do with the direction in which they traveled than anything else.
Lajos paused though and scented the air. He caught more than a whiff of decay and despair. That scent had accompanied the men who came for Stefana. He would recognize it anywhere. As would Aern.
The knots tightened. Lajos entertained no doubts as to what the man intended to do with Stefana.
They didn’t have much time, because her beacon progressively weakened.
Chapter 3
Sitting upright proved harder and more difficult with the passing miles. The saddle chafed, despite the layers of fabric offered by her court dress. The rain continued to deluge them, and weariness made her dizzy. She didn’t want to face whoever had forced this meeting.
Yet his identity loomed like the low storm clouds over their heads.
Her heart beat so hard it hurt. Sorting through the many aches and pains took too much effort. She swayed in the saddle. The sodden bindings around her wrists and ankles dug deep but she barely felt them. The wet and her draining energy levels impinged her wellbeing as well.
Despair tightened the lump in her stomach and washed over her as effectively as the rain. She sniffed but couldn’t wipe her nose properly. Her eyes streamed, but it didn’t matter as her tears blended in with the rain.
I’m not crying.
No, certainly not. The cold and wind forced this teary reaction.
She cut off thoughts of using force to gain her freedom. Right now, she lacked the ability to remain upright in the saddle, much less to defend herself. Besides, she had barely learned how to use a sword.
Yet something Lajos had said kept circling her mind. A novice was sometimes as scary as a master swordsman. Only in a far different way.
Her status barely nudged novice, yet Lajos boasted master of swordsmanship skills. He’d shown her the sword basics in the two weeks since Raene and Vidar had
married. Frowning, she realized it had been longer than two weeks. Perhaps closer to three.
Her thoughts scattered when the horse hooves beneath her clattered. Leaning over as far as she dared, Stefana took in the crumbling cobblestones beneath her. They had reached civilization at least an hour ago. Dim candlelight glowed from the darkened homes they had passed. That must mean the power was out.
Or they didn’t enjoy such luxuries?
Stefana gulped. If they now trudged through Ostard’s country, this might be so. Conditions here had deteriorated noticeably in the last few years. She had never visited Ostard Land, but had seen pictures and clips on her crystal. It wasn’t to Montequirst standards, but this country appeared scenic in its own way. Yet the homes they passed now were mere shacks and showed no evidence of energized-matter. One sagging outbuilding made her shudder.
A leaning outhouse—this decrepit structure made sense in light of the lack of utilities she’d thusly witnessed. Such conditions would never be permitted in Montequirst.
How did these people live?
Her gag reflex tried to rise again, and she tamped it down, because she needed the liquid she’d consumed two or more hours ago when they stopped.
The cobblestones gave way to finer ones. At least these weren’t in the same crumbling state of disrepair. She shivered, but whether due to the cold or her sinister thoughts, she was beyond discerning.
Stefana clung to the belief that Aern and Lajos would come for her. Her only hope in this hopeless situation. If they didn’t, she would be married within the hour upon reaching their destination.
Cold, tired, hungry, and fading fast in a rain-soaked court gown was not how she envisioned her wedding. All thoughts of what occurred after the wedding she squelched because she couldn’t afford to incite her gag reflex again.
The cobblestones became flagstones of such quality she gaped. Even through the dark and the pounding rain, their luxury glowed and the hoof-beats resounded with a melodious ring. After the neglect of the homes they had just passed, this raised her nape hairs and made her shiver in protest.
