Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians (21 page)

“Are
you going make it?” Reign asked with a boisterous laugh that echoed like
thunder through the sky.

“Shut
it, Dragon,” she spat with her rasping breath. Having at last reached their
destination she dropped down to her knees and laid back slowly. A strange
sensation almost like vertigo waft through her body as she laid back. Being
able to see nothing but the sky almost made her feel like she was flying.

“What’s
it like to fly?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

A
moment of silence lingered in the air, as if he were recalling a moment, or
maybe a sensation. “It is the most incredible feeling in all of existence. It
is to become a star, looking down from heaven. To feel as if you, the air, and
the clouds have become one. To be nothing, yet to be a part of everything.”

With
the same longing, they took in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.

Light
as a feather his fingers brushed across her jaw, tracing her body as if to
paint it. Their gazes were locked. Even in the dark, she could see his hazel eyes
shine. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Are you sure you’re
real?” Elizabeth laughed at his question.

“Perhaps
not. With you I’m not certain.”

“Some
Seer you are,” Allos teased more as he leaned down and kissed against her
cheek.

Elizabeth
lay on top a heavy fur throw over raw limestone floor. The fire had not been
lit in his room. They’d been too preoccupied with one another to think about
it.

Dragging
kisses down her neck, he followed the arch of her shoulder, over her supple
breast to her slender stomach. Her hands roamed over his biceps and shoulders-just about anywhere she could touch. “I rather like it. You’re the perfect
distraction to keep from worrying over life’s
what if
s. Can I keep you?”

A
broad smile spread his face. “Glad you see fit to. Because I don’t think you’d
ever be able to get rid of me now.”

“Is
that a promise?”

“It
is.”

Sliding
his arms around her, he pulled her to lie over his chest as he laid back. “You,
lady, are good for my heart.” Lifting her hand, he kissed the back before
kissing each of her fingers as he linked theirs together. “Do you think anyone
realizes?”

“No.
Mayla says I seem happier now that I’m adjusting to life here. But everyone
else is too busy to take much notice. Aryaunna has so much on her shoulders
that she’s surely too preoccupied to notice such a thing.” Nestling her cheek
against his ribs, she pressed her ear against him to hear the steady drum of
his heart. In response the arm wrapped around her grew tighter. “Besides, it
wouldn’t bother her really. It’s not that I don’t want people to know, I just
don’t want to draw attention.”

“It
makes no matter to me.” A shrug of his shoulders casually confirmed. “Your life
is your own. I’m just pleased to have a part in it.”

“If
just a part of my life, you’ve taken all of my heart.” Unable to keep from it,
she gave a laugh to hide behind the truth of her words. She looked almost
afraid to say it.

“I
love you, Eli,” he said almost in reassurance as he met the fear in her eyes
with strength. “Marry me.” Wide eyed, she looked up at him nervously. Not
saying a word, his knuckles brushed along her cheek tenderly. As if her body
had some need to be closer to his, her arms tucked tighter around him. “I’m
serious,” he encouraged when she didn’t say anything.

“You
are?” her words were so quiet he could barely hear her.

“Absolutely.
Say you’ll be my wife.”

“I
will.”

Weeks
had passed in a silent fury. Aryaunna had thrown herself knee deep into
training. Not just to fight, but she’d taken a strong interest in treating
wounds and care for the health of others as well. Mayla taught her everything
she could, trying to fit a lifetime of knowledge into as little time as
possible.

Her
days were long, and her nights were longer. She slept in short slumbers
throughout the day rather than through the night. As if on autopilot she
couldn’t stop moving. When no one else was awake to keep her attention, she
rode.

“You’re
riding again? Don’t you think you should sleep at some point, Aryaunna?” Lena
stood next to Sita, running a hand from the front of her neck and back slowly.
“You’re going to ware her out.”

“She
loves the night rides the best. I will see to it that she gets plenty of rest.”
Aryaunna placed her foot in the saddle’s stirrup. She wasn’t used to the saddle
yet. Neither of them were. But this was best for Sita’s back. Not to mention
the saddle, when fully equipped, could carry a surplus of supplies and gear.

Swinging
her leg over the saddle, she settled into its hard curved surface. Adjusting
her belt, she made herself comfortable as she lift the reins in her hands.
Lena’s brow deepened as her gaze caught the glint of a black hilt at Aryaunna’s
side. A slow smile of pride spread the Drow’s lips. “You’re always ready,
aren’t you?”

Their
eyes locked. What pulled at Aryaunna’s lips could nay be called a smile, but
perhaps a grimace of acknowledgement. Shifting her weight, her hand flopped the
leather straps over the mare’s neck to the right side.

Sita
began to walk along the wearing path slowly. This was their leisure time
together. With barely a notice, Aryaunna dipped her head to avoid certain limbs
that hung low. They tread on at a slow pace through the trees.

Aryaunna’s
hands ran up Sita’s neck until she was laid over her. A large low limb passed
over them, barely missing Aryaunna’s back.

Cool
air kissed her exposed skin sharply. It was a welcome touch. Her eyes adjusted
easily to the dead of night. It was easy to see the black limbs and dead grass
beneath melting snow. Spring wasn’t near. It was just a lull in the snow fall.

The
clump of hooves and brush of the horse’s body moving through the woods was a
calming sound. Fingers brushed through the fine hair on the horse’s neck. It
was like velvet. Even the smell of the horse had a peaceful tranquility to it:
hay, grain, oak, and the creature’s own musk.

Sita’s
pace quickened steadily. The trees were thinning, making the mare’s excitement
grow. Her hands tightened, one on a slight lip of the saddle, the other on the
horse’s mane.

The
moon was dark that night, so she couldn’t easily see the meadow open before
them. Aryaunna knew it was coming because Sita’s brisk pace broke into an easy
run. Hanging on tightly to the saddle, Aryaunna arched her body back. Her head
hung back, lifting her chin to the heavens. Her gaze journeyed to the stars.
Tiny specs of glittering stones a million leagues away.

They
rode together freely for hours. Aryaunna finally fell asleep lying against
Sita’s back.

It
was Sita’s whinny that woke her as the horse started to twist back and forth
restlessly. Hooves stomped the frozen ground anxiously. “Sita?” Aryaunna
questioned in a grog as she sat up. Her hands moved about looking for the
reins.

Sita’s
feet kicked back before suddenly she took off. Grabbing a tight hold of the
saddle and horse’s mane, Aryaunna ducked down low to avoid incoming limbs.
Beyond the sound of pounding hooves she heard something else.

Screaming.

Aryaunna’s
body tensed, tightening her legs on the horse as she leaned forward, hunched
down low as her right hand pulled free one long blade from her belt with
practiced ease. Racing into the fog was disconcerting. Sita slowed and turned
about, momentarily lost. It wasn’t fog, it was smoke.

“Sita!”
Aryaunna pleaded in angst as she tightened her heels on the mare. At a careful
quick trot, Sita pushed on, barely avoiding trees until an orange glow came
into view. The mare bolted towards the light.

Determination
pounded through the mare’s hooves as they ran up on the village. Three
structures were in flames. It was the most horrific thing Aryaunna had ever
laid eyes upon. A massive, most ancient tree stood tall in a golden molten
glow. The bark was a crawl with fire, spread wide up to the tangle of limbs.

Beneath
the tree fire rained down as the flames ate away at every limb. Pieces
crumbling away to coal and ash fell like rain drops.

A
man in a red tunic ran out from the back of a large building. Sita came up on
him as Aryaunna leaned out silently. One powerful sweep of her blade cut
through the back of his neck, all but removing his head from his shoulders. The
man collapsed and Sita kept going.

“Veyn,
Veyn!” Aryaunna called as she twisted her body back, throwing herself off the
horse’s back. Running, she caught the boy around the shoulders. Spinning on his
heel he reared his small dark fist back to hit her until he saw her for who she
was. Shaking arms hugged tight around her as if holding on for dear life.
“Veyn, take Sita, get everyone out,” she ordered as she pried him off of her.

The
boy was so stunned she feared he may not listen, but the young lad nodded
ferociously as he turned and ran for the mare. Like a leaf on the wind, he was
up in the saddle in less than a second, reins in his grasp as Sita took off
with him.

Before
he was mounted, Aryaunna had brandished her second sword. Her feet were swift as
they carried her through the village and her blades quicker yet. Coming up on
another man with pale pink skin, she pierced right through the branded tunic
into his spine. Twisting her wrist sharply, she withdrew the sword as he
crumpled. Too good to leave him to his pain, she slit his throat with the other
sword and kept on.

She
took down three more before finding Sola bowed over in hysterical sobs in the
dirt. “No,” Aryaunna let out in a ragged breath. She’d stumbled over dead Drow
already, but none she’d known well yet.

At
once she sheathed both blades and came down around Sola, her arms wrapping
about the girl. “Sola, we have to get you out of here,” she insisted despite
Sola’s fighting and screaming.

The
young woman’s body was covered in the blood of her husband. Clutching her
belly, she sobbed as her soul shattered, the only world she’d ever known
burning around them.

Unable
to carry her to safety alone, Aryaunna guided her to the edge of the wood, cast
into shadow. “Sola, you will stay here until someone comes for you,” it was
poor guidance, but she had no words of comfort. “If you know them, then they
will help, if you do not, then you must run, and do not stop until you are
safe. Do you understand me?” She received no response. The look of pain and horror
was clear in the large blue eyes of the pregnant Drow woman.

“Sola,”
Aryaunna grabbed the woman’s shoulders tightly, jarring her for her complete
attention. “Where is Elizabeth?” Nothing. She shook her shoulders sharply.
“Have you seen Elizabeth?”

Tears
flowed over the lids of her eyes and down ashen cheeks. Sola was an empty
vessel. Sanding, she spun on her heels and took off again. The girl was as safe
as she could be.

A
cry rang out that sounded like a hoarse feminine screech, but its vessel belonged
to a balding man with a roughly shaven face. His body seemed too thin to carry
the chainmail beneath the heavy tunic. No armor suited these men but they were
prepared to fight, clearly. A scarred sword held tight in his double fists
above his head. As he cried out the blade held high and true as he ran at
Aryaunna with intent to cut her down like a wild sapling.

Weight
pitching onto her left foot, her hips bucked, twisting her forward and left as
her blades rose to meet his and stop it midair as it came down for her skull
like an axe to winter’s wood. He was no more than a head above her, but it was
a good advantage. Had he not so well announced the assault he might have had
some chance.

Left
arm continuing its momentum onward to sweep the man’s sword down, Aryaunna’s
right fell free, bringing the blunt hilt of her sword against his face. Blood
splattered as he cried out, stumbling back.

Without
relent, she continued the swing forth as he stepped back and put the blade
straight through his throat. Before he even registered his own death she had
moved on.

In
two steps she defended again. Blades came up, swept down, clashed metal into
metal, tearing chunks out of weak steel. Her arm would shoot out, sending her
ebony blade deep into the breast of a heathen human who’d seen fit to cut down
the Drow by fire.

Spinning
abaft, she met another. His face was fierce with rage. Yet there was no rage to
contend with Aryaunna’s that night.

More
than once Allos had told her how true fighting against real enemies, armed and
aimed for your head, was a very different sensation from training. In training,
though your heart may race, there was no true fear of death. To take on an
enemy that wants nothing more than to bleed you dry was another thing entirely.

He’d
been right. It was. A part of her relished in the pleasure of revenge.

Before
it even registered to her, the Church’s assailant fell to his knees. He
remained sitting up like that as the life drained out of him, blood pouring
from his lips to pool on the ground before him. The spark of life in his eyes
was dimming as death fogged his gaze over.

As
he was falling she was moving on. Relentlessly she went after every red tunic
she saw, never stopping for a moment of breath. These were not soldiers. This
draft of men were sent with a single sword a piece and their greatest weapon of
all; fire.

“
Allos
!”
she called out to him at the sight of his bald head, inked with blue. Like her,
he was fighting. Her feet took her swiftly to aid.

It
stunned her when Allos brought his blade to counter hers in what would have
been a killing blow. Her eyes widened as she stared up at Allos. Turning their
backs to one another automatically, they looked around for the next enemy. No
one jumped from the shadows. No soldiers fought other Drow. “It’s over,” he
exclaimed with relief.

Uncertainly,
she looked from left to right. The only ones moving were Drow. Drow fighting
still to save their families and their home. The horrible sight pained her a
great deal. Blades lowered to her side, she turned her back to Allos as a new
understanding of defeat washed over her.

Without
thinking she began to walk away. The enemy had been defeated. Now she had to
find Elizabeth. Frantically her head darted right to left as she jaunted on. A
moment later a large hand fell hard onto her shoulder. She was so tense that
her body lurched, a hand raising hilt before she realized it was Allos.

Looking
back, the man he’d been holding was now unconscious, and being drug by the foot
by another Drow. “I left Elizabeth with Mayla, tending to the wounded in the
main hall.”

Directed
by his grip, she turned to face him. Relief washed through her and it nearly
buckled her knees. “They’ve gotten the fires out. Let’s get you to the hall so
I can have a proper look at you.” His other large hand had lifted her chin,
tilting it right and left. She was so covered in blood it was hard to discern
if any of it was hers or not.

All
she could do was nod. “Ary?” he called her name in question as she’d not yet
said a word. Her gaze traveled up to meet his eyes, silent question waited his
continue. His hand pat firm on her cheek upon note of her dazed look. “Say
something,” he directed when she only looked on at him.

Shaking
her head, she pulled away from his touch. “Where’s your shirt?” she asked as
she took note of his near nakedness, standing in no more than loose legged
pants, tied about his waist by a leather cord wound through the hem. His feet
were bare as well. “And your sword,” she added.

“Ollin
took my blade for me when he drug the human off to the arena. It’s the middle
of the night, Aryaunna. I was asleep when they attacked.”

His
arms crossed tight over his broad chest, shoulders hunched forward as his jaw
set sternly. He was sullen. He felt guilty for sleeping, she realized to her
surprise. What was the surprise though, that it was in the middle of the night,
that he’d been asleep, or that he felt guilty for it?