Raven's Hand (16 page)

The young man hauled me up, his corded
muscles straining beneath his shirt sleeve and my gripping hands.
He pulled me out of the carriage and deposited me quickly upon the
battered edge of the door frame. My eyes adjusted to the brighter
light outside. I saw his face and shock almost overwhelmed me.

I had seen him in dreams and in my visions. I
had thought to try and warn him, or somehow save him from the
desperate villains seeking his life at the Mangy Cur Inn. I wanted
to escape Evelyn and her bodyguard and her son in order to find my
true love, but he had found me instead.

Killian stared into my eyes and he became
transfixed, confused, perplexed—all the same emotions that were
galloping through my mind like a stampeding herd of horses. His
mouth dropped open in surprise and bewilderment. I found myself
doing the same. Then a Cinderman appeared behind him, ready to kill
the man of my dreams before I could even speak to him for the first
time.

I screamed, trying to warn him of the
creature creeping up behind him, but it was too late. The battle
axe was falling already. Killian had not even turned his head yet.
He only now broke from his confused state as my cry roused him.

He turned his head as the axe fell upon him.
A broadsword intercepted the axe blade at the last moment. I found
an older man—an older version of Killian—bearing into his defense
with all of his strength, trying to stop the blow before Killian
died. The older man repelled the strike, parried and delivered a
deathblow before the Cinderman knew what was happening.

He turned with blood upon his hands, sword
and clothing. “Get the girl away from here!” the older man
shouted.

The man’s voice roused Killian completely. He
turned toward me, grabbed my arms and lifted me up to my feet. We
ran across the carriage away from the general melee of the king’s
soldiers and Cindermen. The older man leaped back into the fray,
swinging his broadsword with terrible fury.

Killian jumped down from the carriage to the
street and then motioned for me to jump to him. I did so, and he
caught me around the waist. Wisps of smoke slithered through the
fighting throng like serpents, obscuring parts of the battle. We
still had not spoken to one another, yet.

We ran down the street briefly, dodged
between two buildings through an alley and passed through someone’s
garden. People passed us here and there: soldiers running toward
the battle, others coming to see what was happening, or possibly to
help the soldiers. I was unfamiliar with my surroundings here in
the city. I had never really been anywhere except the abbey.

All the while, Killian doggedly pulled me
onward. My heels quickly became a hindrance. I cast them off with
two quick kicks of my feet and went on bare feet with more ease.
Killian didn’t seem to notice. He remained fixed upon the task of
ushering me as far away as possible from the Cindermen.

We passed through streets, around homes, and
out into markets, all at a dizzying pace. Most of the people did
not pay us much attention. They were focused more on what was
happening on the King’s Road. Still, my royal attire with its
emblazoned coat of arms, was about as conspicuous as possible.

Finally, I realized that we must have some
course of action. At this confusing pace, we might even run right
back into the Cindermen. “Killian, we have to stop,” I said. “We
need some sort of plan.”

Killian stopped abruptly in the street at the
sound of my voice. He looked into my eyes and then around us for
any danger. Then he pulled me near to the side of someone’s
house.

“Who are you?” he whispered. He stood very
close to me now. His hands gripped my shoulders and his expression
was intense. I noticed myself trembling beneath his touch.

His questions caught me off guard a little.
Of course, he couldn’t know me. I was the one who had visions and
dreamed dreams. He couldn’t have any idea of my relation to him
through those dreams. Still, I had hoped that he would know me
already. It would certainly have made all of this easier.

I tried to proclaim my identity, but it came
out as more of a timid squeak. “I’m Raven.”

Killian straightened, the intensity in his
eyes diminishing somewhat to wonder. “Raven,” he repeated, “from my
dreams to reality. How can it be?”

His statement made me weak. I felt like my
legs might buckle at any moment. “You have seen me in your
dreams?”

“Night after night, I have seen you, but I
had no idea you were real,” he declared. “I can’t understand
it.”

I was smiling now. Despite the danger, I
could not help it. Killian knew who I was. My elation was almost
more than I can describe. He knew me. How I had hoped it might be
true, but I never really expected that it could be. I realized
then, like Killian, that I had no idea how this thing between us in
our dreams could be possible.

“You know my name already?” he asked.
“How?”

“I saw you, as well,” I replied. “I thought
you were only a man from my dreams, until I saw a vision of you at
the inn where those men attacked you while you slept. I tried to
warn you—”

His eyes widened at this. “You saw me at the
Mangy Cur?” he asked. “The voice screaming my name—it was you?”

I nodded my head, scanning his face, finding
recognition and bewilderment, anxiety and joy all fighting for
supremacy there.

“You heard me cry out?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling excitedly, “you woke
me just in time to fight my way out of that room.”

His hands rested on my shoulders. My hands
were wrapped over his forearms. His corded muscles remained tense
beneath his soiled shirt sleeves. We stood there smiling dumbly at
one another, not knowing what to say.

Killian roused suddenly. “The Cindermen,” he
said. “They’re trying to kill you?”

I nodded my head.

“But why?” he asked. Then he asked again,
“Who are you, Raven?”

I lowered my gaze, ashamed to tell him what
role I had to play in all this. “I am a Daughter of Eliam; the
intended bond of Nathan, heir to the throne of House Rainier,” I
said in a low voice.

My eyes came back to his face when my
confession was made. His eyes were not as wide now as they were
before. His brow was furrowed in perplexity and astonishment. Only
now did he seem to notice my gown and, more importantly, the silver
crest displayed there. Almost anyone in the kingdom knew this type
of garment and what it represented.

Then, strangely, Killian smiled. “A Daughter
of Eliam. How wonderful.”

I peered into his eyes. Clearly, he did not
understand what I had just told him. How could he smile at my
news?

“Killian, I am to become the bond slave of
Prince Nathan,” I said again. “Why are you smiling?”

His grin faded. “It’s not the prince that
makes me smile,” he said, “just that you are a Daughter of Eliam.
Puzzle pieces are fitting together. I just can’t see the whole
picture yet.”

“I don’t understand,” I confessed.

“That’s just it,” he said. “Neither do
I.”

The sounds of battle drew us back to the
reality of our situation. “We can’t stay here,” he said. “I have to
get you safely away.”

“I can’t go to the palace,” I pleaded. “I
can’t be turned over to Mistress Evelyn. She’ll force me to bond
with Nathan as quickly as she can. I won’t do it; not now when I’ve
finally found you.”

Killian smiled gently, drawing me into an
embrace. His strong arms enfolded me. For the first time, perhaps
in my entire life, I actually felt safe.

“I won’t allow that to happen,” he said.

Still, I could hear the uncertainty in his
voice. Neither of us could stand against House Rainier. Evelyn
would be desperate to get a hold of me for her son and for the sake
of the monarchy.

I laid my head against his chest, trying to
block out the world, not wanting this moment to pass. My arms
enfolded his torso, pulling against his back. Now that I had found
him, I did not want to let him go.

“I promise,” Killian added more
confidently.

Tears welled in my eyes. These were words I
had longed to hear, but never thought possible. Yet, I knew such
sentiment was foolishness. Evelyn would not allow it.

“You should not make promises you cannot
keep,” I said.

He withdrew a little in order to look me in
the eye. “I never hoped such a woman really existed. Now that we’ve
found one another in life, I will die before I let you go.”

I nodded and tried to smile, though it came
off weakly. I wanted to believe him; to believe that he could
fulfill this desire. Somehow, it had to be possible. Otherwise, why
would Eliam torture us this way? Surely, he had a plan that we did
not yet realize.

Killian turned, taking hold of my hand,
leading me away from the street. I had no idea where we were. I
could only hope that my rescuer knew.

“We’ve got to get you out of sight,” he said.
“Could that dress be any more conspicuous? They might as well have
painted a bull’s-eye on you.”

“You know why this attack has come?” I asked.
Of course, I understood the reason, but did everyone know?

“The rivalry between the houses is common
knowledge,” Killian replied, leading us through an alley between a
bakery and a tenement. “What I don’t understand is the presence of
the Cindermen. What great house would ally themselves with such
creatures?”

“I suppose any who want a powerful ally like
Judah?”

“That’s just it,” he said. “The great houses
of the empire have all decried the Cindermen as abominations. Even
to Malkind worshippers, they are seen as monsters that should be
destroyed.”

“Then someone is lying about their
convictions,” I said.

We paused at the head of the alley, peering
toward the street beyond for any danger. Behind us sounded the
whinny of a horse. When we looked, we found the very last person I
wanted to see.

The assassin, Kane, sat upon his black
stallion at the far end of the alley. His face was hidden in shadow
beneath his hat brim, but I could feel the icy stare coming from
those eyes. I could sense the malice of the Malkind spirit within
him. I had hoped to finally be free, but Evelyn’s hired killer had
come for me.

The nightmarish steed reared back on its hind
legs, Kane remaining fixed in the saddle like a champion
unperturbed. He spurred the beast onward toward us without
preamble. He didn’t have a weapon in his hand—not yet—but I doubted
he would need one. I had thus far been unable to resist the power
of his spirit. What hope could poor Killian have against this
devil, when he was only a mortal man?

“The queen’s bodyguard?” Kane said.

At once, I became terrified that Killian
would simply turn me over to the man. He might not have known what
manner of wickedness indwelled Evelyn’s assassin. What if he did
not care?

Then he did something I did not expect.
Killian released my hand and drew an elegant sword from the
scabbard on his back—the same sword he had used to cut through the
battered door of the armored carriage moments ago. He positioned
himself between me and Kane, his weapon held at guard.

Kane and his mount came up short, the horse
taking to its hind legs again in frustration. The assassin was
better seen now as he regarded my protector. His stallion bore down
upon us, frothing at the mouth, expressing the temperament of the
spirit within the man.

“Step aside, boy,” Kane said menacingly.

I felt rather than saw the power surging from
the assassin—a direct emanation from the Malkind spirit within.
That energy came at us—at Killian standing in front of me with his
sword. However, something unexpected occurred. The Malkind spirit’s
power was somehow reversed by the blade Killian held. The energy
returned upon the assassin.

Kane was thrown from his mount. The horse was
bashed into the building wall to our right and nearly toppled to
the ground. Killian was as surprised by the exchange as I was. Even
my natural ability as a Daughter of Eliam did not allow me to
counter such an attack.

Killian turned to me, holding the blade in a
tight grip.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“I’m not even sure what happened,” Killian
said.

“You moved your arm to intercept the attack
of the Malkind spirit living inside him.”

“It’s the sword,” he said. “Its will controls
me overtakes me at times. The blade has been blessed by Eliam.”

Then the puzzle pieces fell into place for
me. Of course, only Eliam’s power could have repelled such an
attack. This weapon, blessed by Eliam, had the ability to do what
even I could not do.

Kane, dazed upon the ground, began to
stir.

“We must leave,” Killian said.

We turned toward the street, only to find at
least two dozen soldiers waiting for us. The men surrounded the
mouth of the alley, preventing us from going any further. Killian
glanced back at Kane, who was just beginning to stand again. His
hat smoldered on the pavement several feet away.

I grabbed hold of Killian’s sword arm to stop
him. Clearly, he meant to fight, but I knew the futility of the
act. He would be killed, and I could not bear the thought.

Surprised, he held his defense, looking me in
the eye. I took hold of his face with trembling hands and kissed
his lips. His mouth conformed to mine eagerly, his sword arm
falling to his side as his free hand surrounded my waist to embrace
me.

I withdrew, looking into his face. “You
cannot win here,” I said. “I cannot watch you die. They have come
for me. House Rainier will never let me go.”

Almost without either of us noticing, Kane
approached and leveled his sword tip at Killian’s throat. He tore
me from Killian’s grip and pushed me toward several of the
approaching soldiers.