The King's Executioner (7 page)

Paine’s warning haunted her well into the night, her sleep restless. She woke repeatedly from dreams that confused and frightened. She could make little sense of them, though one thing was clear throughout them all... a warning that she was in danger.

What danger and from who? She had no answer and once again drifted off into a disturbed sleep.

Anin ran, through a mist so thick that she could not see where she was going. She had to run. She had to get away, but who was chasing her?

Run, Anin! Run fast!

The woman’s frantic voice was not familiar to Anin, but she heard only concern and caring in it, and so she ran.

“Hurry, Anin, you must get away from him!”

Anin ran faster, the mist beginning to fade. She heard it then—footfalls—behind her, getting closer and closer.

“Hurry! Hurry! The voice urged.

Her chest heaved and her legs grew so heavy she thought she would not be able to take another step and the footfalls drew ever closer.

“Anin!”

The voice was sharp and angry.

“Anin!”

She had to keep running. She had to find Paine. Paine would protect her. Paine would keep her safe.

“Anin!”

Her eyes sprang open and she jumped up and ran, hitting something solid and went tumbling with it to the ground.

Paine had not meant to frighten her awake or for her to run into him with such force. He had only meant to wake her from an obviously frightening dream. Now she lay stretched out on top of him.

Anin shook her head to clear her eyes of the mist that lingered in them. She braced herself on the solid mass that had tumbled to the ground with her, so that she could get up. The feelings hit her hard, pain and despair so strong that she wanted to cry, then nothing.

Death.

No. Wait, a spark. She saw it, felt it, weak as it was, and fighting to grow stronger.

“Anin.”

This time when she shook her head her eyes cleared and turned wide, and she saw that she was staring down at Paine flat on his back. She was lying on top of him. Her glance went to his lips, slim and slightly parted, and she got the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

His hand was suddenly at the back of her neck, taking firm hold. “Do not dare think it!”

His harsh warning snapped her out of whatever had taken hold of her and she pushed against his hard chest to hurry off him.

She turned away from him as soon as she got to her feet. Whatever was the matter with her? She had wanted to kiss him so badly, the need still lingering now. This was not right. Why would she feel that way?

He suddenly stepped in front of her. “You are to be Queen. You belong to the King. Do not make him send you to me for punishment.”

Anin could find no words, his remark stealing what little sense was left in her confused thoughts.

“Gather your things, we leave,” he snapped sharply and stormed away from her.

Anin hurried to do as he said, growing more confused and frightened than ever. What was wrong with her? Why were her feelings for Paine growing with every touch? And what would happen when she first laid her hands on the King. What would she feel? The thought sent a shiver through her. As the old couple had said, and many agreed, the King was a fair man, or was he?

She shivered again, thinking on what Paine said about the King sending her to him for punishment. Would the King do that? More importantly would Paine punish her? She felt safe and protected with him. Would he truly hurt her? Her insides gave a turn and she was glad she had not eaten at all today.

Her thoughts plagued her as she walked. Why could she feel what others felt? Her mum had warned her to push the feelings away, fight against it, and tell no one of it, and she had since she was young. But meeting Paine had changed all that. Never had she felt with the intensity as she did when she touched Paine. And the strange part was that she ached to touch him again, explore what was inside him and discover what was fighting so terribly hard to break free.

After a while her thoughts vanished as she found it necessary to be more watchful of her steps. The woods they traveled had grown denser, the path unclear. She was ever so grateful when Paine finally stopped. It took a moment for Anin to realize it had been a sudden stop and she grew alarmed.

“What is wrong?” she whispered.

“We are not alone.”

“I heard no warning from Bog.”

“He trails us. They approach us.”

“The Drust?”

“No, Bog would have picked up their pungent scent.”

“They may be travelers.”

“A hopeful thought.”

She did not ask him if he knew otherwise, she knew he did, and her alarm grew.

Bog suddenly appeared, rushing over to Paine and growling as he took a protective stance in front of him.

Paine lifted his battle axe.

Anin would reach for the dagger in her boot if necessary since she felt her limited skill with the weapon might be more hindrance than help. She much preferred to reach out to the forest and ask for their help and protection, and she did silently.

“Stay near me,” Paine ordered in a whisper as several warriors suddenly made themselves known a distance in front of them.

“What brings you so far from your tribe?” Paine asked as they drew nearer.

Anin was surprised to hear Paine speak another language. She did not know it, but she was familiar with it. She had heard her mother speak it with her sisters a few times. When she had asked her about it her mum had explained that it was the language of the dal Gabran Tribe to the south of Pictland. They were neither Picts nor part of the Pict Kingdom. The Lammok traded with them from time to time, though less since the Pict tribes unified. Now the King controlled most of the trading with the south.

The warriors were not as large as Paine and all had long hair. Their garments were similar to those she and Paine wore, though they wore fur capes. They carried bows and caches of arrows slung over their shoulders and they approached Paine cautiously, though they all kept glancing toward Anin.

“We search for one of ours who has been gone too long. With your King’s permission, he was sent to trade with the Lammok,” the one in the lead said his glance drifting to Anin again and again.

Paine doubted the man spoke the truth. King Talon would have sent his own warriors to find out what happened. So what was the dal Gabran doing this far north?

“You are the King’s executioner, are you not?” the warrior asked.

Paine’s intent stare was his answer.

The warrior grew uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other. “I only ask, for one who appears so young and innocent surely is not your prisoner, therefore, I wonder if I missed the announcement that the executioner has taken a wife.”

The warrior was searching for information and the way all the warriors kept glancing at Anin, Paine assumed the warrior’s interest was mostly in her.

“That does not concern you,” Paine cautioned sharply.

The warrior bobbed his head, acknowledging the warning and saying no more. “We will be on our way. The path is clear to Pictland.”

He seemed to pause, waiting for a response. Paine remained silent.

After a moment, the warrior said, “Safe journey.”

The warriors tried not to stare as they passed Paine and Anin, but one by one their eyes kept darting to Anin, and she did not care for their obvious scrutiny.

Bog did not care for it either. His snarl deepened and grew and he fell into step a distance behind them as the last warrior passed by, making sure they kept walking.

Anin looked to Paine who had turned and watched the warriors disappear into the forest almost expecting him to snarl like Bog, he appeared so angry.

“First the Drust attacks, then dal Gabran warriors are in Pictland, far north of where they should be with a story that sounds far from the truth. Something is brewing.” Paine was not happy. Something was wrong. Something had brought the dal Gabran here and it was not to search for a missing tribesman. And why did the warrior seem interested in Anin or if their destination was Pictland? That was the warrior’s intention when he said the path was clear to Pictland. He wanted to learn where they were going. Something was definitely wrong. “We keep a good pace and you will stay close,” he ordered Anin and began walking.

Anin gave a silent acknowledgement to the forest for keeping them safe as she hurried to do as he said. She was vigilant not only of her steps this time, but of her surroundings. Bog also seemed more cautious and kept close to her and Paine.

They did not stop once as the day wore on and Anin struggled through her hunger and the exhaustion that seemed to burrow deep inside her. She glanced down at her aching feet, wishing dusk was near so they would have to stop for the night. She suddenly collided with Paine’s back, he had stopped so abruptly. He was quick to turn and place his finger to her lips.

She nodded and waited while he stood and seemed to be listening for something. Bog did the same, though he had taken a stance behind her.

A distance away several birds flew out from the treetops at the same time Bog began to growl.

Paine grabbed Anin, hurried her to a low tree branch and hoisted her up. He followed up behind her after saying to Bog, “Go and wait for my call.” The wolf took off and Paine turned to Anin. “Climb high.”

Paine moved past her when she struggled to reach the lowest branch of the thick old, oak and hoisted himself up. Once above her, he reached down and grabbed her hand to pull her up. As he eased her up, his other arm reached down to catch at her waist, yanking her up the rest of the way. He helped her to climb from there, higher and higher. They disturbed the bounty of colorful leaves that had yet to be shed for the harvest season, but it was necessary and Anin offered her gratitude to the tree for helping them.

She kept hold of Paine’s hand as they continued to climb, letting his strength and courage seep into her.

Her thoughts went to the many birds that had taken flight at once. It had been a warning that something large had disturbed them and when she heard the heavy pounding footfalls growing closer and closer, she knew a troop of warriors headed their way.

Instinctively, she turned to Paine just as he reached out to pull her against him and tuck them both firmly into the crook of two thick tree branches. She was relieved that he had not stayed to fight them, but then he was no fool. He knew he could not win against a troop of warriors whatever tribe they may be.

The footfalls stopped not far from the tree and voices drifted up between the branches, though not all of what was being said could be heard.

“Find them.”

“Not far.”

“Kill them both.”

There was a rush of footfalls and it grew quiet once again, though Paine cautioned with a shake of his head and a finger to his own lips that she was not to move or speak. She nodded, understanding that they should wait to make certain they were all gone.

After what seemed like an endless wait, Paine motioned to her to stay where she was and he would be back. He slipped down, disappearing through the branches, his battle axe snug in its sheath at his back.

Paine went as silently as he could, though stopped when he thought he heard footfalls. He gently brushed leaves aside not worrying that the rustle would catch someone’s attention since a light breeze filled the air.

He waited sure he had heard someone approaching. After hearing nothing, he was about to lower himself to another branch when he spotted movement. He pulled back so as not to be seen, then silently as possible peered past the leaves and saw that one of the dal Gabran warriors stood beneath the tree.

The warrior appeared worried and confused as his head snapped from side to side, taking in everything around him. Then as if startled by a noise, he jumped and ran off. Why was one dal Gabran warrior going in the opposite direction of the others?

He took a moment to give thought to their circumstances and it did not take him long to make a decision. He hurried back up the tree to retrieve Anin and be on their way.

Her wide eyes told him she was anxious to hear what he had learned.

He kept his voice to a whisper. “It appears all are gone as we should be.”

Anin stepped forward eager to be on their way and end this journey that turned out to be far more dangerous than she had expected.

Once on the ground, Paine summoned Bog with a call one would think was a bird. The wolf appeared as if out of nowhere.

Anin brushed away the few colorful leaves that clung to her.

“We need to go,” Paine said, pulling his battle axe from the sheath.

She heartily agreed, though was surprised when he turned to walk in the direction they had already been. “You go the wrong way.”

Paine walked over to her. “The Drust are aware of the path we travel and now the dal Gabran is as well. We cannot continue the way we go and we need to go now.”

Anin did not argue. She agreed with Paine and trusted him and so she followed along quickly. Gone was her exhaustion and hunger. Her only thought was getting as far away from the Drust as possible.

Bog ran ahead and remained a distance from them as they hurried along. It was awhile before Bog returned suddenly and took a guarded stance a few feet from them.

Paine turned to Anin. “Take cover somewhere until I come for you.”

“No, I go with you,” she said as if it was settled.

Paine went to argue, but seeing the determination in her eyes he would only waste time. “Stay close,” he ordered.

His order was easy to follow since she felt much safer being close to him.

It was not long before they come upon the dal Gabran.

Anin stared at the dead bodies scattered around the forest and saw her own fate if it had not been for Paine. She looked to him. “Why?”

Paine glanced over the senseless carnage and shook his head. “I do not know, but the Drust will not stop until they see their mission done.”

And they both knew what that mission was... to see Anin dead.

They stopped just before dark, Anin nearly collapsing next to the trickling stream that had her parched mouth begging for the cool water. She bent over to scoop up a handful when her body simply surrendered to exhaustion and tumbled forward.

Her fall was broken just as her face was about to sink into the water.

“Drink,” she heard Paine order, his arm having caught her around the waist to hold her firm.

Too tired and parched to hold herself up, she drank. When she finished, he eased her up and rested her back against him. Despite her hunger, she could have fallen asleep right there. His body’s warmth seeped through hers, chasing away the chill that had taken hold of her. His chest pillowed her head nicely and his arm remained firm around her waist.

Paine continued to hold her. She needed to be held after the day she had been through and right or wrong, he did not intend to let her go, at least for a while. He would rest along with her, then see what food he could find for them. They both needed to keep up their strength.

He would take a short rest, nothing more. He closed his eyes.

Paine woke to find himself so close to Anin that their lips almost touched. He stared at her, peaceful and content in his arms and realized at that moment he felt content himself, something that had long escaped him.

His lips drifted closely to hers as if of their own accord, as if he could do nothing to stop them. Her eyes opened, returning him to his senses and he pulled away reluctantly and hurried to his feet, realizing they had both slept through till morn. His insides rumbled, reminding him that neither of them had eaten last night.

“I will find us food. You start a fire,” he said and walked away, Bog by his side.

Anin stared after him. His lips had been so close to hers when she woke that she wondered if he had meant to kiss her or was it that she wanted him to kiss her. A dangerous thought with her being the King’s intended.

She stretched her arms to the overcast sky as she sat up, chilled air nipping around her. Confusion had her shaking her head. She had always felt as if she did not belong, though her parents and siblings never gave her reason to feel otherwise. It was as though she was missing something, whether a part of herself, a connection, she had no idea... until Paine.

With him she felt whole as though she had been reunited with a missing piece of herself. It was strange, frightening in a way to feel so attached to someone that you felt something missing when parted. Her mum would scold her if she told her how she felt about Paine. She had warned her to always rely on herself and she had.

So why feel this need to be close to Paine?

Her thoughts continued to churn while she got a fire going, and she smiled when Paine returned with two fish ready to cook.

He did not speak while the fish cooked or while they ate, though neither did Anin. She was much too busy eating every morsel of the delicious fish.

After dousing the fire, Paine squatted down beside her—though not too close—at the stream and scrubbed his hands and face.

“Do you think the Drust will discover they do not follow us?” she asked, drying her hands on her cloak.

“At some point they will and I intend for us to be a distance from them before they do.” He stood and turned. “We leave now.”

The day stretched on endlessly, Anin keeping pace with Paine and cautious of her surroundings, concerned the Drust would appear out of nowhere. They were relentless warriors and the last of the tribes to surrender to King Talon.

By mid-day they were halfway along a narrow ridge when Paine suddenly stopped, Bog along with him. Anin halted her steps, worry settling over her as she watched Paine stare along the ridge to its end in the distance. She followed his stare and stopped herself from gasping.

Traveling up along the ridge were Drust warriors.

Something had her turning to look behind her and down the ridge. Fear gripped her when she spotted Drust warriors hurrying up toward them.

“Paine!”

He turned and looked past her. The Drust would have had to travel all night to have caught up with them, unless...  Were there more following them than the troop that had passed them?

Anin turned to Paine. She did not say the obvious—there was no place for them to run.

His arm shot around her. “Wrap your arms around my neck and bury your head against my chest and do not let go.”

As she did, he shouted something to Bog, then his arms clamped tightly around her and he pitched them to the side, sending them tumbling down the ridge. She squeezed her eyes closed tight and kept her head buried against his chest. His legs captured hers in a tight grip once they went over the edge, stopping hers from flailing about.

Her body was battered by stones, twigs, and forest debris, though not as badly as it would be if Paine was not locked tightly around her. She held on with all her strength, fearful of being ripped away from him.

They finally rolled to a stop, Paine asking anxiously, “Anin?”

Not sure how she felt, though knowing they had no time to waste, she gathered her wits and breath about her and said, “I am good, and you?”

“I am fine,” he said, getting quickly to his feet, then reaching down to help her up. He held her steady as he glanced up along the hill to the ridge. It had been a long fall, but a necessary one. The Drust warriors stood along the edge, staring down at them.

They were a foreboding sight, their whole bodies covered in drawings with cloths wrapped around their waists, being their only garments. Some held their long spears high while others rested the weapon by their sides, but all eyes glared down on Paine and Anin.

Anin’s glance had followed Paine’s and she stood shocked at the frightening sight. “Where did so many come from?”

“I do not know, but they are determined to see that we do not reach Pictland.”

“Why do they stay where they are? Why do they not run down at us?”

“They will not follow where we go.”

“Why?” Anin asked, knowing there were areas in the Highlands no one dared to tread, not even the bravest of warriors and the thought sent a shiver through her.

He nodded behind her.

Anin turned. A short distance away was the edge of a forest and carved in the trees were symbols, warning anyone who approached to stay away, not enter. None were welcome there. It was the home of the Giantess.

“They wait,” Paine said, nodding up at the Drust warriors. “We either fight them or enter the forest.” He stretched his hand out around them. “You can see there is no way out except through the forest or back up the hill to the ridge and the waiting Drust, though their spears will stop us long before we reach the top.

Anin looked around the small clearing where they stood. They were trapped. To one side rose thick rock that reached to the top of the hill, while the surrounding area was all forest.

Anin had heard tales of the Giantess, a not so benevolent divine being, and her home. Her father would sometimes tell tales to all in the feasting house. She recalled one such tale. It would always begin with her da saying that King Talon’s strength was beyond that of any mortal man. All would nod their heads in agreement. Her da would go on to say how the King could tame the wild beasts, calm an angry sea and that the land would tremble in fear when he walked upon it. Some joined in shouting out how the King could split a man in two with one single blow of his mighty sword and that he rode a beast of a stallion that no one could go near but him.

It was, however, the tale of King Talon surviving his time with the Giantess that impressed everyone the most.

“Is it tale or truth that King Talon entered the home of the Giantess and survived?” she asked Paine.

“Truth. That is why some believe him more a God than mortal man, for they feel the Giantess blessed him with remarkable powers and allowed him to walk among mortals. Others believe she spared him, but cursed him for intruding on her home.”

“What curse did she place on him?”

“You can ask the Giantess yourself if you are unlucky to meet her.” Paine took her arm, cast one last look at the Drust warriors staring down at them, and hurried her along into the forest, Bog following behind, his ears back, his tail down, and a low growl rumbling in his chest.