DarykHunter (25 page)

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Authors: Denise A. Agnew

BOOK: DarykHunter
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Dane stepped back but not far. If the dragon had a chance to get too close to the ballistae, the weapons wouldn’t be effective.

He heard the men behind him pulling back on the levers required to send flaming masses toward the dragon. He half expected the dragon to go after him. Suddenly, a familiar figure charged in behind the dragon. Dane’s heart hammered, his stomach dropping. Drakus Fina. Enemy of the people. The enemy of everyone who valued honor, love and life.

In those fleeting seconds, Dane took in his brother’s presence. Dane saw their family resemblance in the hair and the structure of his face and body. Brandishing a sword, the tall, powerful man moved forward.

A sneer cut across Drakus’ face as he directed the dragon. “Simian, take the tower!”

Dane’s heart practically stopped. Drakus was targeting Armen. He dashed toward the tower ahead of the dragon, his breath rasping in his throat. The men guarding the tower stayed while Dane rushed up the stairs. He reached the first floor where Armen stood at the window, looking out at the approaching terror. Armen’s face was impassive.

Dane grabbed his arm and pulled. “My lord, we must run!”

“No time, my friend. I dreamed about this over and over again every night. It is my destiny to die this way. Promise me you’ll protect this castle.”

Dane’s anger boiled over at his leader. “It may be too damn late. Come on!”

But the roar outside the window told the truth. Before Dane could move, the dragon roared and its heavy weight slammed against the rock walls. Cracks formed by the window. The dragon screamed again and threw its weight against the ropes holding it.

Dane was tired of this shite. He grabbed Armen’s arm and shoved him toward the staircase. The tower vibrated under the dragon’s assault. Momentum carried the men forward. Dane heard the foundation shudder, vibrations rumbling through the donjon. Before Dane could do more than fly down the stairs with Armen in front of him, all the hells broke loose.

Armen cried out as he lost his footing. Dane reached for him, but the planet seemed to tilt forward. Dane couldn’t keep his balance, and he cried out in fury. As the building started to crumble around him, something hard hit him in the back and head. Pain rushed over him in a hot wave, and he fell into the darkness.

Chapter Sixteen

 

The road became long and arduous, and Ketera considered rushing into the jungle and making a run for it. More than one problem with that though. Four rogue Daryk Ones surrounded her and made it less likely she could escape. They’d taken her backpack with all her supplies. Trying to escape without supplies meant she’d die of thirst or starvation if she couldn’t find her way out soon enough. Though she had some idea how to navigate because her father had taught her, and she could use the moons to work out direction, so many dangers lay under the jungle canopy she knew nothing about. She wished it were daylight. At least then she had a better chance of surviving this mess. On the other hand, if she stayed with these wretched men, she may not survive much longer.

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Was Dane all right? Had the battle ended? Had Finius actually betrayed her? Doubt-riddled, she decided to stay with the men.

Finius stumbled along in front of her as they periodically struck him with a club in the back. The big man didn’t fall, even when the blows became heavy. How did he endure it? Time crawled as they moved through the night, and even when she could barely take another step, they prodded her to continue. To her surprise, a clearing came into view where the jungle had been hacked away to make room for a dozen large tents. The night was forced back by torches surrounding the camp, and a few men and women milled about. Women? Were they prisoners too, or willing conspirators?

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Drakus Fina’s camp,” one of the men in front of her said.

Deep inside she trembled at the thought of meeting Drakus for the first time.

As if he’d read her mind, the man said, “He’s not here.”

“Out to take Grimnald Castle,” said another man near her.

“Grimnald Castle?” She repeated the statement and felt raw.

She’d known that Drakus’ men planned an attack, but not Drakus specifically. Worry for Dane assaulted her. Dane fought to save the castle, and he’d do everything he could. His life could be in danger, and she couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Let’s move it,” one of the men said, urging a faster pace as they dropped down a slight incline to reach the encampment. The camp buzzed even at this extremely late hour, and she wondered why.

One of the rogues said, “Take Finius to the far south tent. Tie him up there until Drakus returns.”

As two men led Finius away, Finius said, “Don’t worry, my lady. You will be fine.”

Fine? Did he honestly believe that? She seethed with an anger she couldn’t define. Fury that once again she’d lost an opportunity to return to Magonia and save her father. Despair that every minute of her life these days seemed fraught with danger. She never honestly had a moment to rest, to gather her thoughts. To find a way out of this mess.

A thought whispered to her. Not exactly true.

Not everything in this trip had proved horrible. One bright spot still brought a blush to her cheeks at the thought of it.

She’d had long minutes to find love with Dane. For if she spoke honestly to herself she did love him. How she could in such a short time, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was because she knew his heart. Knew that he’d given everything for her, had shown his true goodness in so many things he’d done for her already. All she could hope was that he found a good life, if and when she returned to Magonia. He could find a new woman, someone he would realize could mate with him just as well as she could.

But she realized it wasn’t likely she would survive this adventure. Not if Drakus Fina decided he wanted her for a mating partner or made the decision he’d rather eliminate her. Her stomach curled with nausea at the thought. For a few seconds she couldn’t think, her breath ceasing with anxiety.

A man pushed her along. “This way. You’re going to Drakus’ tent to wait his arrival.”

“When is that?” she asked, tension creeping up her spine.

“Don’t know.”

Right then she made a decision. She would survive this. For she had to return to her father no matter the cost. One way or another, she’d beg, borrow or bargain her way out of this camp.

* * * * *

Pain throbbed through Dane’s body, a
thud
,
thud
,
thud
that didn’t seem to have a source, a beginning or end. He remembered weight pressing down on him, the overwhelming pressure, the defeat, the loudest roar he’d ever heard in his life.

A dragon? Or the donjon falling on him?

He thought he heard rain splattering on a roofline and the crack of thunder overhead.

I’m alive.

He couldn’t form more of a full thought than that for what seemed an eon. He sensed movement around him and the relentless sound of people moving about, talking, hands touching him with care and concern. Still, he wanted to move and squirm and ask for them to leave him alone.

“Rest easy, old friend. We’ve got you.” The voice rumbled nearby, reassuring and promising safety.

Two things propelled him into action. Thoughts of saving Armen and needing to live for Ketera. More than anything he must live for her. He longed to see her with an ache the superseded the pain spiking over his body like lightning strikes. He groaned from frustration and pain and tried to move. Pain sliced through his ribs and he clutched at his side. Using his training, he attempted to assess his injuries.

Broken ribs? Or just cracked?

Bleeding out?

How long had he lain here?

Yes, his body would repair itself, but perhaps not quickly enough to save the castle and the people in it. Or, if the damage was too much, too massive, he might not survive.

Time seemed to drift on, an eternity of people coming and going, his life easing in and out of clarity. He didn’t have a coherent thought for a long time, a time he couldn’t define. No pain, no fear, no…nothing.

“Dane?”

The voice whispered close, and Dane jerked. “By the hells!”

His gasp came through a throat that felt sour, as raw as if he’d been screaming or had screamed for hours. He managed to open his eyes slowly. Minilos stared down at him, eyes momentarily reflecting sheer concern and perhaps a weariness that had no end.

“What the fuck is happening?” Dane asked through his parched throat.

“You bloody well almost died. Didn’t think it was possible for you, you bastard.” Minilos sank back into a chair next to the bed. “But I can see by the cleanliness of your language you’re well and truly on the mend.”

Minilos’ dark humor wasn’t lost on Dane, but he managed only a half smile. “How is it I survived such a royal mess?”

“Damn good luck, I’d say.”

Ketera. “Where is Ketera? Did she come to you during the battle? Is she safe? Did Finius take her—?”

“Easy there, friend.” Minilos clasped Dane’s biceps. “Finius has already taken her to the ship.”

Part relief and part disbelief ran through Dane’s mind. “How do you know they’ve reached the ship? Have you received word or evidence?”

“No, of course not. It hasn’t been near long enough for that. Finius is a good man. He’ll get her there.”

Dane was skeptical. “He’d better. Anything happens to her, anything or anyone lays a hand on her—” Dane groaned as pain sliced his rib cage.

“You need rest. You’ll be like new in no time, but right now you need time to mend. You can’t waste time thinking about her.”

Dane almost came up off the bed but weakness kept him from getting more than a couple inches off the bed. “Waste time? She’s my mate!”

Minilos held out one hand. “Easy, my friend. I know that.”

Dane decided he needed to believe this almost more than he needed to breathe. To do that, he’d have to take Minilos’ advice to try to mend. He couldn’t help Ketera this way.

Dane glanced around an unfamiliar room. “I’m not in the donjon.”

Minilos sighed. “You were dug out of there twelve hours ago. It’s night.”

Shocked, Dane took in the room and saw curtains pulled over a large window. Candlelight flickered from several candles around the expansive room. “I didn’t recognize your quarters at first.”

“I didn’t either. Damn maid did too fine a job of cleaning it the other day.”

They chuckled softly, and Dane gasped from the pain. “How the hells did I get here?”

“Daryk Ones who survived the siege brought you here through the tunnel from your room.”

Dane tried a deep breath, but the pain in his ribs dictated otherwise. “Wait. Where is Armen?”

Minilos’ expression sobered considerably. “He didn’t make it.”

Dane groaned, his anger mixing with undeniable pain. Armen had been a good man and a wonderful leader. “Draconus! That means…”

Minilos threw up his hands for a second, his voice a growl. “It means you’re our leader for now. Armen’s will was changed some time ago and it said you would be the successor. From this point forward, you’re our leader. The savior of Grimnald Castle.”

Dane sucked in a pained breath. “He told me. I didn’t believe him, and I damn sure didn’t want it.”

Minilos nodded. “It is a horrible and great responsibility. You must think of it as an honor and not a burden.”

“Fuck that.” Dane didn’t want to hear it. “It is a burden.”

Minilos looked grave, his frown telling. “Perhaps it is better your mate returned to Magonia. She could have been harmed or killed if she’d stayed.”

Irritation replaced Dane’s affection for his friend. “She still might be harmed or killed when she goes back to Magonia. She doesn’t have my protection.”

“Easy.” Minilos held up one hand. “You need rest.”

Dane quieted his voice. “Tell me what else happened.”

Minilos hesitated. “When the dragon entered the castle and attacked the donjon, the structure fell apart. Never saw the likes of it in a thousand years.”

Dane grunted. “You haven’t lived a thousand years.”

Minilos managed a halfhearted smile. “I’d like to. But it seems these fucking rogues have another plan. Drakus is still out there. He won’t stop until we’re all under his rule. Until he’s raped all our women and killed the men.”

Dane’s tongue felt thick and clumsy with fatigue. “Did he take women with him?”

“Yes, some of the youngest and most fertile. About fifty women in all.”

Dane couldn’t think of a proper, virulent-enough curse to express what he felt, and fell back on asking more questions. “What of the castle? Is it decimated? Destroyed?”

“Hard to believe, but no. All of the Daryk Ones loyal to our creed survived, as did other citizens. The castle is severely damaged but not destroyed.”

“What of the dragon?”

“Killed by the Daryk Ones.”

“Thank the god for that at least,” Dane managed through his parched lips. “I must get up. I have duties—”

“Enough of that.” Minilos reached for a goblet of water. “Here. Drink.” He helped Dane sit up, but the pain caused Dane’s vision to waver. “Easy now. Drink slowly. You lost some blood and it’s taken quite a bit to keep you alive. Vander root. Jalimen plant. It’s a good damn thing I had a heavy supply stored for just such an emergency. You’re a few hours away from total mending. After that you’ll be able to return to the castle and do a proper assessment of what lies ahead.”

Dane swallowed hard around the truth. No, he couldn’t fight now. He couldn’t do anything to save the castle or his woman in this shape. He could give orders, however.

“We must rebuild the walls immediately. Any man who can be spared must do this. Any woman who can manage it must take herself and any children into the dungeons. As gruesome as the idea might seem, it must be done. Drakus won’t come back right away, but he will be back.”

Minilos took his orders and left the room, promising to return shortly with more concoctions to revive Dane completely. Dane sank into his pillows as weariness turned his world weak and quiet once more.

In his nightmares he chased a dragon, and that dragon threatened something more dear and precious to him than his own life.

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