DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 12, Conclusion

DARK HOURS

Chapter 12 

Kayge continued to hold Emers, keeping her firmly wrapped within the safety of his arms. She couldn’t stop shivering, and he understood why. It wasn’t so much the fact that she was completely naked. She had gone through an ordeal that would drive any sane man mad. One day, he would ask her if she was aware of being inside the dragon, if she’d recognized him, and if she’d watched as he’d battled the creature. But at this time, it was enough they were reunited, and he would do everything in his power to keep it that way.

He was aware of someone coming up to them, then felt a cloak being drawn around Emers’ shoulders, shielding her body as well as providing her warmth. Kayge opened his eyes to find Father Matthias smiling down at him, and it was then that he knew he’d won. He’d defeated not just the black dragon, but also Gola.

A glance over at where the witch’s body lay showed there’d been no further movement since he’d pierced the woman’s heart with his sword. The hilt still jutted upward, allowing the light from the surrounding torches to reflect off the upper part of the blade. Giving a quick and silent prayer of prayer of thanks, he adjusted his grip on his love, pressing a gentle kiss to her slimed forehead.

A hand grasped his shoulder. Not roughly, but companionably. Firm and steady, like that of a friend. Lifting his face, he stared up into Obred Tayson’s countenance and into eyes that were clear and no longer lifeless.

“You saved us,” Tayson said, adding a shy smile. “You released us all from that witch’s hold. We owe you a major debt of gratitude.”

Around them the other soldiers were regaining their senses and realizing that they had all been held in Gola’s powerful spell. Seeing them awakening, Kayge knew he’d done more than broken the witch’s grip on them. He’d returned their lives to them.

Tayson indicated the body. “How were you able to overcome her?”

Kayge grunted. “That is a story I will have to tell you later. Right now, it is imperative Emers and I have a bath to remove every last reminder of that dragon, and find fresh clothing. After which, we need to eat something. And we must rest.”

Tayson nodded. “I will send out orders to have all that prepared. We also need to know what to do with the bodies.”

“Burn them,” Kayge grimly replied. “But be certain you do not remove my sword or my knife from that bitch’s body. Do you hear me? Same for the crucifix still embedded in that dragon’s chest.”

“Do you fear that if we do, she might be able to come back to life? She and the creature?” Tayson questioned.

“I do not want to take any chances,” Kayge responded. “Only after she and that vile thing have been reduced to ashes, and those ashes have been scattered to the winds, only then can you retrieve my blades and necklace and return them to me.”

The Centurion bowed in obeisance. “Your will be done.” Pivoting smartly on his heels, the man began shouting orders to the other soldiers, many of whom ran off to begin fetching firewood to build the bonfires.

Slowly releasing her, he peered down at her. Her eyes were wide, her face ghastly pale from her ordeal. “My love? Are you with me?”

She gradually looked up at him as recognition returned. Throwing her arms around his neck, she clung to him. “It was… I was…”

He shushed her. “I know. I was, too, remember? But it is over. Look.” He pointed out the witch’s body, then the carcass of the dragon. Emers checked, and he felt some of the tension ease from her body. “Come, my beloved.” He reached out to the priest. “Father? With your help?”

Understanding, Father Matthias bent down, taking Emers in his embrace and lifting her to her feet. Kayge fought to stand, his face contorting with pain as fresh trickles of blood ran down the back of his leg and thigh. Seeing his struggle, two soldiers hurried over to lend him aid. Secured in their grasp, and noting the priest had Emers, he nodded, and together they left the courtyard to return inside the castle.

It quickly became evident the soldiers and guards weren’t the only souls freed from the witch’s snares. The servants were also released. Happily, they hurried to prepare baths for both Kayge and Emers, as well as for Father Matthias, who gave forgiveness to the women who’d treated him so badly earlier and were now remorseful and repentant. 

Once he’d scrubbed every remaining trace of dragon bile from his body, Kayge’s wounds were treated and he was given a fresh change of clothing. By that time the smell of burning dragon could be detected on the wind. Despite its rank odor, Kayge stopped at a window to watch the conflagration of both beast and witch, and took in a deep lungful to remember this moment. 

“I must not ever forget how close I came to losing everything,” he promised himself. “We all must never forget.”

The sound of footsteps running down the hall drew his attention away from the sight of the billowing smoke. He turned from the window as his beloved called out his name and threw herself back into his embrace. Although her golden tresses were still damp from her bath, he grabbed two handfuls of it as he brought his mouth down over hers, not caring if any other eyes were watching. The kiss was too brief but sweet when he finally broke away and drew her back into his arms.

“Is it really over?” she whispered. Another shudder went through her, and he hugged her tighter.

“Yes. ‘Tis done.”

Emers sniffed. “Is that smell—”

“The dragon and the witch.”

She started to move toward the window to see for herself when he stopped her. Emers gave him a hard stare. “I spent days inside the belly of that wretched beast. Do not deny me this chance to see him receiving his due.”

Knowing she had that right, Kayge relented. Together they stared out the window, watching until the flames grew weaker and the night once again spread her dark veil over the kingdom. As they mutually turned away, a servant approached them to let them know a meal had been prepared and was waiting for them in the dining hall.

Tayson spotted them entering the room where laughter was ringing from the rafters. The place was packed, and two empty seats awaited them at the head table. When the other diners finally noticed them, cheers went up and fists pounded on the table in greeting.

“I cannot remember the last time I heard the sound of such joyousness in this place,” Tayson admitted.

Glancing around, Kayge was about to ask where Father Matthias was when he saw the old man enter from a side door. He gestured to the priest to join them, and everyone at the table made room for one more.

Father Matthias dropped into his chair with a groan. “Never again will I denounce a warm bath and clean attire. Those are two of our Lord’s greatest gifts to mankind.”

The food was brought to the tables by the servants, who thanked the Centurion for his bravery. Kayge and Emers took what they wanted and were about to begin eating, when a steady chant of “Speech! Speech!” resounded, growing steadily louder. Knowing the attendees were expecting to hear a few words, he threw Emers a defeated look and got to his feet. The room went silent.

Eyeing the vast hall, Kayge took a deep breath. “I know you are wanting to hear what happened prior to me arriving back here and taking on Gola. You want to know about the dragon, and why my beloved wife, Emers Ammin of Deccatar, was in the belly of that beast.” He winced as the memory tried to sweep him away from the moment, but he pressed on. 

“That story will come. Later. For now, we need to rest and recover. We need to mourn those we’ve lost, including our king and queen.”

A soldier he recognized stood up. Kayge nodded in his direction. “Meeasters, what say you?”

“We need a new king to lead us. To pull us out and away from the darkness that witch brought upon this land.” The man glanced around the room, then pointed at Kayge. “I say it should be you! You have earned that right by defeating her!”

The man’s suggestion was swallowed with riotous huzzahs and more table pounding. Kayge motioned for silence and waited for things to settle before proceeding.

“I appreciate your faith in me, but I cannot—”

He was cut off with a round of boos. Meeasters continued.

“You were King Estephan’s Centurion! One of his most loyal and trusted guards. You have avenged his and Queen Denu’s deaths, and the deaths of the royal family. If anyone deserves to wear the crown, you do! We know you, Kayge d’Bayar. We’ve fought with you, and we will fight for you!”

Tayson stood to add his voice. “I cannot think of a man more suited to bring peace and stability back to Noranye.”

“I am a soldier, not a ruler,” Kayge argued.

“You are a just man. The rest…” Tayson gave him a mischievous grin. “The rest you can learn as you go.”

Kayge turned to Emers, who wore a warm and loving smile. “Em?”

“They need, we need someone they can trust. I trust you with my life and my heart. Do they deserve anything less?”

He rubbed his forehead, knowing that everyone here would not stop until he relented. Lifting his chin, he stared out across the sea of expectant faces.

“Very well. I accept your challenge—” He got no further as the room erupted into a cacophony of cheers. As the roar continued, he dropped back into his seat and reached for his cup of wine. Emers extended her hand to find his free one and gave it a squeeze. Smiling at her, another thought suddenly broke through the haze as he realized that tonight was to be his wedding night. Not in an inn as fugitives, but in a castle as the future king and queen. He found himself growing nervous at the prospect, but a happy nervous. Emers saw his hesitation and gave his fingers another squeeze.  

Eventually the room settled and all resumed eating. Kayge was about to signal a servant to ask for another portion of meat when Father Matthias loudly belched and got to his feet.

“Leaving us already, Father?” Emers inquired.

“I have a lot of work to do. Might as well get started. The morrow will come all too soon.”

“No doubt, the church needs to ready itself for the number of penitents who will be needing to use the confessional,” Kayge acknowledged with a wry smile.

The priest snorted, then swallowed the last of the wine in his goblet. “Confessions, yes, to be certain, but that’s not my most urgent need.”

“Oh?” Emers gave him a questioning look, which the priest responded to with a wide grin.

“Most certainly, good lady. I have to prepare for the upcoming coronation for the new king and queen of Noranye.” Adding a wink, Father Matthias made his way out of the dining hall as he whistled a jaunty little tune.

THE END 

Linda's Website

DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 11

DARK HOURS

Chapter 11  

       It was early evening the next day before the outer walls of Noranye came into view. Long before then, they’d spotted the massive black dragon flying overhead. It was as if the creature had been waiting and watching for them. After it finally spied them, it swooped low overhead, frightening the horse to where the animal almost unsaddled both Kayge and the priest. It took great effort from the Centurion to calm their mount enough and continue onward.

       One thing they both silently agreed on was that Gola was now aware of the fact that Father Matthias had managed to find Kayge, delivered her message, and Kayge was returning to reclaim his beloved Emers.

       The guards and soldiers were expecting them. Kayge eyed the men lining the upper walls as he and the priest approached the drawbridge. He recognized many of them, especially those who had served directly under him, but not a single face showed the same familiarity. Every pair of eyes gazed back at him with vacant expressions. Gola had their souls completely under her command.

When the dragon disappeared from sight as the first turret came into view, Kayge wondered where it had gone. He suspected it could be within the confines of the castle, but he wasn’t certain. Neither could he worry about it. Not yet. Right now his focus was on the confrontation with the witch before he faced her Hell-spawned creature.

The drawbridge lowered and they were allowed to cross it. Entering the courtyard, they were immediately surrounded by a phalanx of guards. Slowly, Kayge dismounted. Father Matthias joined him as the captain of the guards approached. Again, Kayge studied the man’s face for some sign of familiarity. He knew Obred Tayson of Kimmsin. Had known the man since their initial days in the military academy. They’d bunked in the same barracks. They’d fought together. Advanced through the ranks together. And they’d been promoted to Centurion together. Yet the man’s eyes were dark, blank, and lifeless.

“You will come with me,” Tayson intoned in a flat, emotionless voice without greeting.

“Can the priest come as well?”

The Centurion never glanced at Father Matthias. “We have been instructed to bring you both.”

There was no movement to relieve him of his weapon, which did and didn’t surprise him. The witch was so confident in her abilities, she believed herself to be impervious to any attempts he’d make to come after her.

The soldier turned and began walking toward the main doors. Kayge cast a glance at the priest before following after the man.

They were led directly to the throne room. Gola was seated on the chair, as he expected. Two long lines of guards flanked her, protecting her. Kayge found their presence amusing. Gola had the power to eliminate any man with an incantation and a wave of her hand. These men were being used merely for show.

He resisted the urge to rest his hand on the butt of his sword. Although he knew the witch wasn’t afraid of him, he didn’t want to test the possibility that her guards might take his action as a threat and descend on him to defend her.

Kayge stopped at the foot of the dais but refused to bow or show her any sign of allegiance. Instead, he locked eyes with hers and waited, almost daring her to make the next move. Beside him, Father Matthias halted and also remained silent.

Gola’s gaze broke away from the Centurion and went to the priest. “You have done well, old man. I take it you delivered my message?”

“He did,” Kayge answered for him.

The witch turned back to the soldier. “Tell me what he said.”

Kayge didn’t try to hide his amusement. She wanted to be sure the priest had delivered it correctly. “If I want to be reunited with my beloved Emers, I have to kill the heart of the dragon.” It wasn’t an exact quote, but it was enough to confirm what he’d been told. It was also enough to gain a thin smile from the witch.

“I take it you have returned to do just that,” she said.

“I have returned for my Emers,” Kayge stated.

“Whatever it takes?” Gola pressed.

Kayge found it odd that she would say that, but confirmed it. “Yes. Whatever it takes.”

“Then follow me,” she ordered. Swishing her purple cloak about her shoulders, she strode off in the direction of the hallway that Kayge knew led to the inner, private courtyard saved exclusively for the royal family.

The soldiers fell in line behind him and the priest as they made their way to open outside area. Lit torches ringed the area as dusk gave way to the darkness of the night. As Kayge expected, the dragon sat at the far end, waiting for them.

A second chair had been placed here. Kayge recognized it as the late queen’s throne. Gola placed herself upon the tufted cushion, and her guards spread out in a semi-circle behind and around her.  Waving in the direction of the immense beast, she smiled.

“There is no need to delay this any longer. Begin!”

Kayge shoved the priest out of the way and drew his sword. The beast eyed him, an almost identical smile to that of Gola’s on its face. Was the creature waiting for him to charge?

In the back of his mind, Father Matthias’ words whispered to him.

“I believe its every action is dictated to it by the witch.”

Realizing his back was to the woman, Kayge instantly pivoted to where he could keep an eye on both. He twirled his blade experimentally to see if the animal would react. It did, rising up on all fours and spreading its wings so far, the tips brushed the walls of the nearby keep.

“Come at me, beast.” He gave a come hither motion to it. “You think you are invincible?”

“We do not think it. We know it,” Gola replied with a hint of bravado.

Hiding his smile, Kayge glanced at her. “Then tell it to attack me.”

“Only when you get closer,” the witch smirked.

“I believe its every action is dictated to it by the witch.”

Kayge suddenly sprinted toward the creature, sword raised as if to spear it through the chest. The dragon roared and sat back on its hind feet, lifting its front paws, claws extended.

Instead of continuing toward it, Kayge abruptly changed course and lunged to its left, putting the animal between him and Gola. The dragon twisted its body as it reached out for him. At the same time, it leaped toward him.

Too late, Kayge noticed how close the thing had been by the far wall. A clawed hand came down to trap him against the ivy-shrouded rocks, when he dropped and rolled. The paw missed crushing him, but a couple of its talons raked down Kayge’s back, shearing through the leather straps that kept the metal pieces of armor tied to his body. A hard, almost debilitating jerk nearly lifted him off his feet, and Kayge felt his breast and back plates fall away.

He kept rolling to avoid a second strike as the beast raised its claws again. The front paws came down, shaking the ground when they landed. Kayge ended up on his back, staring almost directly up into the open maw.

The dragon roared again and lowered its head when it inexplicably stopped. Kayge threw up his hand holding his sword, but the creature continued to hesitate, then inexplicably took a step back. Its gaze focused on Kayge’s chest.

Confused, Kayge let his training and years of experience take over. He rolled away from the animal and staggered to his feet, when pain lanced up his right leg. A familiar warm wetness trickled down his calf, letting him know his wound had reopened. At the same time, the dragon’s nostrils flared, which told him the creature also smelled blood. It rose up once more, exposing its breast as if to taunt him.

“What is the matter, Centurion? Already starting to weaken?” Gola cackled in anticipation.

Kayge kept his eyes on the dragon but a kernel of an idea was forming in his head.

“I believe its every action is dictated to it by the witch.”

How? Why? Was it tied somehow to the witch? Or was it…

To win back his Emers, he has to kill the heart of the dragon.

“Gola!” He glared at the witch. “How do I know that if I plunge my sword into this beast’s chest that I won’t also kill my beloved?”

That made the woman laugh even harder, but it gave him his answer.

Killing the heart of the beast would also kill Emers. Gola knew it, and now he did as well, placing him at an impossible stalemate—kill the dragon and kill his beloved, or let the animal live and allowing Emers to remain in eternal torment inside it.

“I would rather release her from her purgatory, even if it means slaying her!” he yelled, raising his sword. He barely caught the witch’s movements as she signaled the animal to retreat. The dragon bellowed but obeyed. Once again, Kayge stared at the two. At the way the dragon obeyed her command…

It obeyed her command, but its back is to her. It cannot see or hear the witch, and Gola did not say anything to it, yet it knew. It knew!

To win back his Emers, he has to kill the heart of the dragon.

A wild, almost impossible thought went through him, but it was one that might, might, give him and Emers a chance. But he had to know. He had to know for certain, or else all of this would be in vain, and he would lose the only woman he had ever truly loved.

He changed his strategy. Instead of rushing toward the creature, he began circling it. All the while he kept his gaze on the animal, watching its eyes in particular. Waiting to see if the thing would glance at its mistress. At the same time, he was aware of the soldiers behind him. Their shapes reflected off the massive creature’s red eyes. He didn’t stop until he caught sight of Gola over his left shoulder. She made a move, raising her hands, fingers curved like claws. Simultaneously, the dragon rose up on its hind legs and lifted its front paws, talons extended. It opened its mouth, letting out a roar and exposing its Stygian throat.

Kayge backed up, aiming his sword at the thing, when his right leg buckled on him. Gasping from the pain, he fell to one knee, dropping his sword as he clutched his wounded leg.

The dragon stood up, spreading its wings, and prepared to crush him with its front claws. Kayge steeled himself as he pulled the knife he had in his belt. With one hard and sure throw, he twisted around and flung the weapon directly at the witch.

She shuddered when the blade sank into her throat. Before the woman could recover from the shock of his unexpected attack, Kayge grabbed his sword and rushed her where he plunged the honed steel into her chest. Into her heart.

A scream unlike anything he’d ever heard came from behind him. Kayge forced himself to remain calm as he continued to press the woman backwards until she stumbled and fell onto her back. Standing over her, Kayge gave the sword one final, hard thrust, until the witch was pinned to the ground.

He continued to hold onto the hilt, not letting go, and watched as Gola tried to raise her hands and conjure up a spell to defeat him. To remove the two weapons from her body. But the knife had punctured her throat to where she was unable to utter a single word, leaving her hand gestures ineffective.

Minutes passed. Around him the soldiers remained stonily silent and unmoving. He was aware the dragon was still behind him, but like the soldiers it didn’t move, didn’t react or cry out again. When at last the witch ceased struggling, and he was certain the light of life had faded from her eyes, Kayge released his grip on his sword and stepped away.

Now it was time to retrieve his Emers.

He turned around to find the dragon hunched down on all fours. It was breathing heavily, but it seemed to be broken, as if its connection to its maker had been severed. It was exactly what Kayge had hoped for.

He didn’t dare remove either of his blades from the witch for fear she’d be able to restore herself. He eyed the swords of the nearby soldiers, but he also feared his move to relieve one of them of their weapon would reactivate them, and they would fall on him to avenge the loss of their leader.

A movement. Kayge glanced over to see Father Matthias watching, fear turning the old priest’s face a deathly white. Seeing that the Centurion had spotted him, the man nodded.

“Keep the faith, my son! The Lord will guide your hand. Remember, you are doing this for your lady!”

Hearing the dragon move, Kayge whirled around to find it trying to lift itself up off the ground. It managed to rise up on its hind legs, front claws extended, but it didn’t try to advance toward him. It clearly wanted him to come to it so it could eviscerate him with its talons.

Pausing, Kayge studied the animal’s appearance. Like before, its focus never wavered, even when the body of the witch could clearly be seen reflected in its gaze…

To the side. Kayge straightened. The beast was staring at him, not at the witch directly.

The animal was focused on him…

No, not on him. He narrowed his eyes and took a couple of steps closer to the creature. The dragon’s attention continued to be centered…

Lifting his hand to his chest, Kayge grasped the crucifix hanging from the silver chain around his neck. The cross Father Matthias had blessed. Emers’ wedding gift to him.

“Keep the faith, my son! The Lord will guide your hand.”

He slipped the necklace from around his head and held the cross up to the dragon. The animal reacted with obvious fear and backed away until the far wall stopped its retreat. Yet Kayge continued to advance haltingly and fought the spears of pain zipping up the back of his right leg.

Unable to go any farther, the dragon opened its mouth and hissed a warning. It tried to lift its wings, but Kayge could tell the thing no longer had the power of flight now that its heart, the witch, was dead.

“Return her to me, foul beast! Return my Emers to me!”

Without warning, the dragon lunged at him, bringing down its front claws in an effort to slice through him. Kayge saw his opening and took it.

Holding the crucifix like a knife, he brought down his arm with every ounce of strength he had left and stabbed the creature in the chest, but the beast kept charging, unable to stop its momentum. Clutching the silver cross with both hands, Kayge continued to rip into the thing as it dragged him along, tearing through skin and scales as if they were butter. Blood poured over his face and arms, yet Kayge somehow managed to keep his grip on it.

The beast stumbled to a halt and tried to reach him with its beak, but the damage had been done. Entrails the thickness of Kayge’s arms fell from its abdomen. A second flood of blood gushed from its body, and a membrane, like a large bladder, oozed out of the opening. It hit the ground, splitting open, and Kayge stared as a small, naked figure sprawled almost at his feet.

Releasing the cross that was still embedded in the beast’s belly, he scrambled over the thick pool of mucus and bile until he reached her. She coughed as he pulled her into his embrace, and behind him he heard Father Matthias cry out in praise.

“Thank you, oh, merciful Lord! She lives!”

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 10

DARK HOURS

Chapter 10  

            It wasn’t until darkness fell that Kayge finally left the road and sought refuge among the trees. He hadn’t seen another soul during his long trek but he’d observed the dragon aloft in the far distance on several occasions. It was as if the creature was keeping an eye on him, making sure he was returning to Noranye. Keeping his promise to his beloved, and hoping to avenge her.

            He debated whether to start a fire to cook the remains of the yearling. He knew the risk that the light from the fire could draw attention to him. Yet he was also aware that without it, the cold that was once more rising with the moon could become more of a hazard than encountering a wild animal or a wandering brigand or two.

            “I also need to eat,” he argued with himself. “I need to fill my belly so I can keep my strength up. Without a fire and without food, I might as well give up my need for safety, for the nighttime cold can just as easily rob me of my life.”

            In the end, he moved deeper into the trees where he found a small glade with enough open space to dig a small pit in which to build a fire. Using a few green branches as a grate to keep the deer carcass above the flames, he huddled next to the pit for warmth and fed the fire with small sticks and dried leaves as the meat roasted. Once he determined sections were adequately cooked, he carved off slices to eat with his knife, not waiting for the whole thing to be done. 

            With his belly full, he was almost to the point of nodding off when he heard a horse neighing. Jerking awake, he grabbed his sword and took cover behind the nearest tree. From there, he watched and waited to see if anyone advanced into the glade. When no one appeared, he slipped through the forest to approach the road. He knew the chances were slim that his or Emers’ horse had managed to find its way back, but he couldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility until he checked for himself.

            Reaching the tree line, he remained behind the bushes and surveyed the road. The moonlight cast a glow as cold as the night, but he was able to see far down the path in both directions. It wasn’t until a movement caught his eye that he finally made out the figure of a man on a horse. As there were no others, he assumed the traveler was alone.

            “Not wise,” he muttered. “One does not go it alone in the dead of night, no matter how great a soldier he is.”

            It was then he realized the man, or whoever was atop the saddle, wasn’t moving. The horse had gone off the road and was grazing on the side. Kayge briefly wondered if the man could be a decoy, with his cohorts lying in wait under the cover of darkness. But that didn’t make sense, either.

            “Unless they know there is an approaching coach or rider, why would they choose to lay a trap here?”

            The horse took a few more steps toward the trees. When it turned, Kayge could see the figure of the man more clearly. The rider looked to be asleep, head bowed but the body still erect, with the reins wrapped in his hands. He also noted the man wore no cloak or outer garment to keep him warm.

            Another thought came to him. If the man was dead…

            Quickly, Kayge approached the rider, sword still in hand in the event the man was pretending to be asleep, or if another figure should suddenly rise from the trees and come at him. Keeping his other hand out, he softly murmured to the horse to prevent it from bolting. The animal stared at him but didn’t show signs of aggression or fear, and allowed him to take hold of its bridle.

            “Whoa, big boy. Good boy. Who do you have here?”

            The figure in the saddle jerked away and tried to wrest Kayge’s grip on the horse, when he got a good look at the man restraining his mount. Gasping in shock, he whispered, “Centurion? Is it you?”

            Kayge recognized the voice and stared up at the priest in disbelief. “Father Matthias?”

            “Oh, thank the Lord I found you!”

            Dropping the reins, Kayge threw up a hand in warning. “Hush, Father! There could be others about.” He glanced around them. Although there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the vicinity, he still couldn’t take any chances. “Get down off your horse and come with me.”

            He had to help the old man dismount. The priest’s movements were hesitant and punctuated with soft moans of pain, letting Kayge know the man wasn’t well.

            Eventually, he managed to lead both man and animal to the secluded shelter of his fire where the priest collapsed next to the small pit to warm himself. After throwing the horse’s reins over a nearby bush, Kayge joined him.

            “Would you care for some venison, Father?”

            Matthias waved away the offer. “I have provisions, thank you. ‘Tis your fire I am most anxious to acquaint myself with.”

            Kayge studied the man’s appearance. Signs of imprisonment and, worse, torture were evident on the man’s body and face. He didn’t need to ask who had incarcerated the priest, or why. He already knew the answer.

            “Tell me what happened to you, Father,” he gently begged. Removing his cloak, he placed it over the thin shoulders. Matthias gratefully wrapped it around himself.

            He listened as the priest filled him in on what had happened after Kayge and Emers left the church. He noticed the frail man deliberately kept a lot of what he’d suffered at Gola’s hands to himself, but judging from the priest’s appearance, it didn’t need to be explained.

            Yet, one main question remained unanswered. “Father, how did you escape? How were you able to get here?”

            The man’s rheumy eyes stared at him. “She had me brought before her because she had a message she wanted me to deliver to you.”

            Kayge sat up straighter. “To me?”

            “Yes.” The priest gave a single nod. “She wanted me to tell you…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to concentrate. “‘The only way Centurion Kayge d’Bayar can get back his beloved Emers Ammin of Deccatar is by killing the heart of the dragon.’”

            Kayge continued to stare at him. “Then she is alive?” he breathlessly demanded.

            “Is there a dragon?” Matthias asked instead of answering the man’s question.

            “Yes! Yes, there is. And…” The Centurion ran a hand over his pate. “Let me tell you what we have been forced to endure.”

            He explained what happened to him and Emers. As he related his story, the priest’s face went slack and pale to where Kayge feared the man might swoon.

            “Are you all right, Father?” Reaching out to the man, he grasped a thin arm. On second thought, Kayge picked up the skin of water he’d taken off the priest’s horse and handed it to him. Matthias gulped down a couple of swallows.

            “Yes. I think I will be. Son, why did the dragon swallow you first? Why did it upheave you and swallow Emers?”

            “I have given that much thought,” Kayge admitted. “At first, I thought it was to punish me. But then, maybe it wanted me to experience the horror of being inside that creature’s belly before taking my Emers and subjecting her to it. Or perhaps…perhaps it realized that by taking her, I was more likely to fight to save her than I would to save my own life.”

            “That would be giving intelligence to that monstrosity,” Father Matthias noted. “I believe its every action is dictated to it by the witch.” Softly moaning, he bowed his head. “Forgive me.”

            “For what?”

            “I am the one who told the witch about marrying you and Emers. I am responsible for her sending that flying demon from Hell after you. I am the one…” The old man broke down crying. In between sobs, he kept repeating, “Forgive me. Please forgive me.”

            Kayge let the man weep until Father Matthias had nothing left in him. Although the priest’s confession finally answered the Centurion’s remaining questions, Kayge’s initial reaction was to ignore the man’s plea. It wasn’t until Father Matthias laid a bony hand on Kayge’s knee that he had a change of heart.

            “I prayed I would find you in time to give you the message. I prayed the Lord would give me strength to make it up to you and Emers. I prayed. God knows how hard I prayed.”

            It was then Kayge knew the priest was only alive because of his resolve to make right what he’d done wrong.

            Our Lord forgave him and led him to me. I can do no less.

            Reaching over, Kayge placed his hand over the priest’s. “I forgive you, Father,” he acknowledged.

            Matthias reacted as if he hadn’t expected to be pardoned. Lifting his tear-stained countenance, he weakly made the sign of the cross. “Thank you, my son. Thank you. And God bless you.”

            Kayge’s expression hardened. “We are going to need it, Father. Come daylight, you are coming with me to face that witch, Gola, and her demon dragon. Somehow I will make her return my Emers to me, and I do not care how many men I have to kill, including that demon spawn, before my beloved is back in my arms.” 

TO BE CONTINUED

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DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 9

DARK HOURS

Chapter 9

            Matthias had lost track of the days and nights long ago. Since he was moved to a small cell that had no window, there was no way to tell the passage of time. Without any candles or other source of light, he remained in the hellish depths of darkness full time.

He tried to guess by the meals he was served, but he quickly discovered those were haphazard at best. There were hours when he’d be so weak with hunger that he was barely aware when the bowl of gruel was placed through the small door at the bottom of his cell door until he smelled it. Then it would seem he’d barely finished eating when another bowl was brought to him. Whether he was hungry or not, he made himself eat the horrid concoction, for once glad he couldn’t see what he was eating.

He prayed almost constantly and slept the rest of the time. Initially, he’d attempted to have some kind of exercise regime to keep his muscles from wasting away. After a while, he gave up trying. He no longer had the energy.

He knew he would eventually die in this place. The solitude he could handle. The cold he could not. With the winter months due to arrive, he could only hope he’d freeze to death in his sleep—peaceful and alone.

He never expected to hear the jingling of keys at the lock, or for the sound of the heavy door being pulled open. A lantern was shoved through the opening, blinding him. Matthias threw an arm up to shield his eyes when a gruff voice declared, “Yes. That is he. Get him.”

He was grabbed under both arms and half-dragged, half-carried out of his cell. The guards continued to haul him over the rough rock floor where his feet were battered with cuts and bruises. By the time they arrived in the rear halls of the castle, every step he took left a bloody imprint.

“Here ye go,” one guard remarked, throwing him onto the floor. “Good luck with getting the stench off of him.” The other guard chuckled as they both exited the place.

Matthias looked up in the graying light to find several servant women gathering around him. They with their white aprons and foul expressions. More hands reached for him, tearing the remains of his robe from his thin body. Fully naked, he was shoved into a nearby steaming laundry tub of almost scalding water.

He called out from the pain as they began to soap and scrub him with horsehair brushes. Their ministrations weren’t gentle. His hair was almost yanked from his head and face as they tried to remove the lice and other insects that nested in the tangled mess. Icy cold water was thrown on him to rinse him off, nearly throwing his body into shock, when someone declared they’d done all they could. Led from the tub, he was given a worn but clean shift to cover his nakedness. Nearby, another guard waited to place shackles on his wrists.

“Come with me, and do not try to escape, or else I will run you through.”

The tempting thought of a quick death by the man’s blade briefly entered his mind. But curiosity regarding why he’d been released from his prison prevented him from attempting to see if the man would be true to his word.

At least this guard was more generous in dealing with the priest’s shaky gait. Several times Matthias was forced to stop and wheeze for breath, unused to the activity. Once they were away from the laundry and the areas where most of the servants worked, they entered the castle proper. He was led down long corridors lined with rich tapestries and past rooms where he was able to glimpse luxuries within that he could never imagine.

He was on the verge of total collapse when they entered the throne room. Matthias was not surprised to see Gola sitting on the elaborately carved and gilded seat atop the stone dais. Although he’d come to believe she was the person responsible for him being momentarily released from his hellhole, he was more anxious to know why she’d summoned him. Or worse, if she was going to send him back to the dungeon once this meeting was over.

“Good day, Father,” the witch greeted him as he fell to his knees before her. He winced in pain as the stone cut into his flesh, gritting his teeth as he tried not to make a sound. The woman loved to inflict misery on others, and hearing it almost made her euphoric. Instead, he managed to nod, letting her know he’d heard her, as he kept his head bowed.

“You must be wondering why I brought you here.”

He didn’t dare look up at her until she allowed him to. The fact that she was deliberately baiting him left him more confused than angry at her treatment of him. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to rise from the throne and slowly descend the steps to his level.

“The answer is simple. I need you to deliver a message for me.”

The toes of her gilt slippers appeared in his range of vision. One foot rose and kicked his shoulder with enough force to knock him backwards. Matthias found himself staring up at her, but the witch didn’t seem to object to his scrutiny.

“Are you now without the ability to speak, Priest? Do you still have your tongue in your head? Or have you gone mad during your incarceration?”

“I c-can speak,” he answered, his voice gravelly and dry.

“Your Greatness,” Gola prodded darkly, her brows knitting. “You will refer to me as Your Greatness.”

“I can speak, Your Greatness.”

A self-serving smile carved into her thin lips. “That is better. Now here is your mission. You will leave this place and go in search of the Centurion Kayge d’Bayar. When you find him, you must give him this message. Are you listening carefully, Priest?” Her eyes narrowed at him.

“I am listening, Your Greatness.”

“Good. Tell him the only way he can get his beloved Emers Ammin of Deccatar back is by killing the heart of the dragon. Do you have that?”

“Y-yes, Your Greatness.”

“Then repeat it back to me. Word for word.”

Matthias squeezed his eyes shut and prayed he could. “The only way Centurion Kayge d’Bayar can get back his beloved Emers Ammin of Deccatar is by killing the heart of the dragon.”

Gola cackled. “Your memory is not yet as ragged as your body. Very good, Priest.”

“Your Greatness?”

She paused as she was about to ascend the steps back to her chair. “What?”

“Why must I deliver your message? Surely you have other men at your disposal who are more capable than me.”

“The centurion will not allow any of my men to approach him, and you well know that. But he will allow you to get close to him so that you can deliver my message. He trusts you, although he may be suspicious as to why you sought him out.”

Matthias couldn’t fault the witch for that wisdom. “And after I deliver your message…”

“Yes?”

“What is your will with me?”

Gola let out another one of her high-pitched screeches of delight. “I am finished with you, you worthless piece of dung! Do what you will on your own! But know this and know it well. If you leave here and do not give the centurion my message, I will know. And if you think your past incarceration in my dungeon was hellish, you will not withstand the punishment you will be dealt for your disobedience. Are we clear, Priest?”

He bowed his head to show his obeisance. “Very clear, Your Greatness.”

He was aware of her making some gesture and she returned to her throne. Presently, another guard appeared by his side.

“Take him. See that he is fed and provided with a horse and provisions before he is sent from here.”

A hand grabbed him under one arm to haul him to his feet. At the last second, Matthias addressed the witch for what he prayed would be the last time.

“Your Greatness, where will I find Kayge d’Bayar? In which direction shall I go?”

Gola sneered. “You know where to go. But if you get lost…just follow the dragon.” She turned to speak to a man standing beside the throne, a gesture which told Matthias that he’d been dismissed.

He was subsequently led to the kitchen where he was fed not a bowl of gruel but a slab of fowl, along with a sizeable chunk of freshly baked bread. Unfortunately, he couldn’t finish it all and expected the rest to be tossed to the dogs. He was amazed when the remains were wrapped in a cloth and added to a bag that was already bulging. As a servant woman shoved the bag in his hands, she leaned over and softly whispered, “God speed.” He quickly made the sign of the cross on her forehead to thank her for her prayer.

From there he was taken to the stables where a horse was saddled and waiting. A pair of trousers was draped over the saddle. A pair of boots sat on the ground. Matthias quickly pulled on the pants and footwear before his guard helped him onto the horse. Unlike the woman, the man said nothing as he grabbed the reins and led both beast and priest out into the main courtyard where the drawbridge was already lowered.

Handing the reins to Matthias, the man stood back. Matthias noticed how many pairs of eyes were watching him depart, making him wonder if they all were under Gola’s spell. If they all were waiting to see what he’d do next like one giant eye.

He urged the horse out of the courtyard and over the drawbridge before stopping on the road. Ahead lay open land and forest. And freedom.

But first I must find Kayge and give him the message. Tell him that the only way he can get his beloved Emers back is by killing the heart of the dragon.

The dragon.

What dragon?

He glanced up into the clear, cloudless sky. Somewhere out there was a dragon. It was imperative he find Kayge as soon as possible for both their sakes, and for Emers’ sake. There were too many questions he needed to ask, too many answers he needed to make his mission make sense.

“Thank you, oh Lord, for Your mercy and kindness. I will not fail You. If it be thy will, please guide me to where I may find Kayge d’Bayar. I fully trust in You to help me.”

Dropping his gaze back to the road ahead, he dug his heels into the horse’s sides and set off down the road toward what he hoped would be their salvation.

TO BE CONTINUED

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DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 8

DARK HOURS

Chapter 8 

Kayge?

Her gentle voice was full of fear and hope.

“Emers.” Her name touched his lips, and like a miracle the pain in his stomach was gone. The loud pounding inside his skull was silenced, not muffled. Silenced. The sudden cessation stunned him, and Kayge rocked back on his heels. Gasping for breath, Kayge wiped his mouth. The slime covering him had dried, hardened. It almost revolted him, but he didn’t dare use any of his precious water to wash some of it away.

“I’ve been covered in worse,” he reminded himself.

It was another minute or so before he could uncurl himself and stand. A chill overtook him, shaking him soundly for a moment. Kayge felt awkward and uncertain, and grateful for the safety of the leather and armor he was accustomed to wearing. Back in his Centurion garb, he felt stronger and more capable, although he knew the uniform was not responsible for his skill with the sword or dagger.

He still had to find Emers. And then he had to find sanctuary for them. He prayed he would find both before it was too late.

Too late for what?

Kayge started. It was then he realized that he’d been in a haze. His mind had been fogged, distracted, and he hadn’t been paying attention to where his feet had been taking him. He glanced around but the tableau looked the same as it had for the past hour—trees, brush, and more trees. The air smelled pure and cold, with no trace of wood smoke or other scents of humanity.

A rock suddenly appeared, barely missing him as it flew by. The tree beside him exploded with a rush of leaves. A body slammed into him, knocking him onto the road and away from his weapons. Kayge hit the ground first, nearly stunned by the impact, as the assailant began to flail at him about the head and shoulders.

Kayge rolled, trying to dislodge the person. Years of training and his infallible soldier’s instincts took over as he reached for the small dagger he’d hidden in his belt. They struggled for position on top, but Kayge managed to shove his arm under his attacker’s throat and pin the man to the ground. He held the point of the dagger up to where the man’s eyes could see it glitter in the spotty sunlight. The man stiffened with fear, no longer the hunter but the hunted.

“Who are you? Why have you knocked me onto the ground?” Kayge hissed into the man’s thin face.

The attacker tried to shake himself free, to no avail. He was slighter in frame and nowhere near as muscular as the once Centurion. The contest was brief.

“Again, I will ask you, but for the last time. If you choose to remain silent, I can guarantee you permanent silence when I slice out your tongue. Who are you?” He added a slap to the man’s face to knock some sense into his attacker’s head.

The man knew he’d been bested, and from the wide-eyed look he gave Kayge, he wasn’t accustomed to having lost the element of surprise.

“G-Gilles.”

“What?”

“My name i-…is Gilles, my lord.”

“Very good, Gilles. Now tell me why you attacked me. Was it for my money?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Was it for…”

A short distance away lay the partially roasted haunch from the deer he’d slain. He had no memory of dragging it along with him as he traveled down the road.

“Was it for the deer? The meat?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Was it for my…” Kayge glanced over to where his blade lay glistening in the sun. “My sword? You were wanting my blade, yes?”

“Yes, yes, my lord.”

“And you were going to kill me for it, weren’t you? That was the plan?”

“N-no, my lord.”

Kayge pressed the tip of the dagger into the man’s cheek, breaking the skin just enough to where a single drop of blood appeared. At the same time, he grabbed the man’s tunic and twisted it, applying pressure to the robber’s throat and nearly cutting off his air.

“Y-yes, my lord,” the man choked.

“And how were you going to kill me?” Kayge caught a whiff of the man’s breath. His teeth were rotting in his mouth. Like so many, he probably lived on a hand-to-mouth existence where any day he could eat was a good day, and starvation or death were always waiting behind the next tree. Already the Centurion could sense that all fight was gone out of the man, all his meager energy depleted.        

The man shifted a tiny bit, exposing a length of braided horsehair wrapped around his wrist. Kayge nodded. With a little more luck the man would have been able to loop the braid around his throat. With a little more strength he would have been able to strangle Kayge, or at least press him unconscious long enough to escape with the weapons, the meat, and whatever monies and clothes he could have gained off his victim. Or worse, he could have pounded Kayge’s head with a rock, thereby killing him and never having to worry about him coming afterwards for revenge.

Luck, however, had not been on his side.

Kayge glanced overhead, searching the skies for any sign of the dragon, but the heavens were clear. If he hadn’t abruptly stopped in his tracks, the rock the man had thrown at him would have hit its target. It could have dazed him, if not knocked him out. Maybe even throw him off-balance enough to where the attacker might have been able to get his garrote around Kayge’s neck, as he’d planned to do.

He peered back into the frightened man’s face. “Listen to me, Gilles. I will let you have half of my kill. Not my clothing, not my weapons, nothing except half of the yearling if you will answer a few questions for me. Do you agree to my offer?”

The man’s eyes lit up. “Yes, my lord!”

Kayge smiled and eased the pressure on his assailant’s throat. “A very wise decision, my man. Now, listen. Tell me. Where am I? What is the name of this place?”

“Vouteré.”

A frown creased Kayge’s brow. Vouteré? That was almost two day’s ride from Noranye and nowhere near Lisstanbor. That told Kayge he’d somehow gotten turned around. Or the dragon is responsible for my confusion. “Is there another village or town closer nearby?”

There was no way the man would be lying to him now. Not about their location, anyway.

Gilles nodded like a branch quivering in the breeze. “Yes, my lord. Belissa lies in that direction.” He pointed east. “It is a small but accommodating village. You could be there by sunset if you leave now.”

Taking a deep breath, Kayge pulled away from the man. “Tell me, Gilles, have you seen a woman recently? A stately woman, perhaps from a prominent family. Golden hair. Alabaster skin.”

This time confusion filled the little man’s eyes. He shook his head. “No, my lord. Not like the one you described. I would have remembered one with hair of gold.”

In the fine balance in distinguishing truth from lies in a man’s tone of voice, Kayge claimed no expertise, yet he could tell the man was giving him his best knowledge. The little man would have been happy just to get away with his skin, much less the promise of a haunch of meat.

He tried to hide his disappointment. Not because the man hadn’t seen Emers, but because he’d hoped that the dragon may have vomited her up. But if Emers had not been seen on the road or in the village, he couldn’t dismiss the fact that she might be there now.

Alone and unprotected.

He had to find her before someone realized she was without an escort. A shudder went through him. What humanity could do to her would be worse than anything that dragon could do.

I cannot give up hope that I can find her before that happens. I must believe hope still exists. I have to have faith that it still exists!

He glared at the man. “Is there another village along the way? Perhaps in another direction.”

“No, my lord. Belmeau is the only other village for miles, until you reach Coueff.”

“And Noranye. How far and in which direction does it lie?” He needed to be certain he hadn’t been aimlessly wandering.

As he’d expected, the man pointed behind him. “There, my lord. It lies in that direction, but it’s a good two, three days’ walk.”

Two to three days’ walk. Or a little more than a day when riding. That sounded right, considering he and Emers had been on horseback.

Kayge got to his feet. True to his word, he went over to the yearling, swiftly sliced the carcass across the ribcage and through the spine, then gave the little man the hindquarters. In truth, he was glad to be able to lighten his load for the journey ahead. Gilles stared at the bounty handed him. He’d never expected to be given the prime section.

“Bless you, my lord!”

“I was never here, do you understand? If anyone should ask you about me, you will remain dumb. If not, then I will find out, and I will come after you. And then I will kill you for sure. Are we clear?”

Another nervous nod was his answer. “Wo-would you care to have company during your journey?”

“I plan to confront the dragon that has taken my beautiful wife from me, kill it , and reclaim her. Are you willing to help me in my endeavor?”

“A d-dragon, my lord?”

“Big and fearsome. Most powerful and ravenous.”

Gilles drew away. “No, my lord.”

He gave the little man a humorless smile. “You have wisdom beyond measure.” Hoisting the remainder of the carcass across his shoulders, Kayge sheathed his sword and dagger. Without another look in the thief’s direction, the Centurion headed toward Noranye at a quick pace.

 

TO BE CONTINUED 

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