Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (12 page)

Drace looked once more in the direction the unicorns had gone, hoping for one more glimpse of them but they had disappeared as if the forest had swallowed them. He signaled softly to Pride who picked up a slow canter to catch up with Ki; the horse’s bridle jingling in the silence.

Ki had stopped to wait for him and she noticed his amazed look when he caught up with her. “You saw them?” she stated.

Drace was still speechless so he simply nodded in answer.

“To my knowledge no human of pure blood has ever seen them. You are special indeed,” she said in wonder.

Drace leaned over to kiss her. “I’ve had two gifts today,” he said and together they moved on.

THE HOUSES AND SHOPS of Ferndale were built so cleverly among the tree trunks they seemed a part of them. The trees were huge, and Drace couldn’t even begin to guess their age. The buildings were of intricately cut stone, some so ivy covered that no rock was visible. Ferndale had to be the most beautiful township he had ever seen.

The residents were an equally beautiful race. The women were of smaller stature like Vashti and very elegant. The men were taller, lithe and more robust—still handsome.

Exotic looking birds flew from tree to tree. Butterflies and dragonflies were everywhere. Drace heard the soft splashing of water from innumerable natural fountains.
This is truly a fantasyland,
Drace thought.

Ka’Ril and Vashti led them to a house in the center of town. Drace halted Pride next to Tren, shooting Ki a ‘watch and I’ll show you’ look.

Ki quickly hid the little smile she had when she caught his glance. She covered her mouth with a hand to stifle a laugh. Tren had become aware of who was standing next to him after everyone had dismounted. In his haste to move away. he pushed against his horse and it backed into him. Tren managed to escape with only a stomped toe.

After settling the horses in the small stable in the back of the house, Tren and Zol took most of the packs to the small sleeping quarters over the stable. The others gathered their saddlebags and went into the house.

Vashti opened windows in a comfortable open room, letting in light and fresh air. She then turned her attention to Ki, Drace, and Cearan. “Come let me show you to your rooms so you may wash and rest. You can visit the armorer later this afternoon.”

She led them to a second floor and showed Drace and Ki into a large bedroom that had doors leading out onto a balcony. This overlooked a small garden. Vashti opened the windows in this room also. “Welcome to our house,” Vashti expressed with a smile. “A meal and water for a bath will be sent up shortly.”

She left them alone to settle in, and showed Cearan to his room across the hall.

Soon after, a large tub with warm water to fill it was delivered. Soap and towels were left as well as a light meal of fruit, cheese, and bread. Finally, they were alone.

Drace sat in a chair and removed his boot. He stretched out his long legs, sighed and closed his eyes while Ki got ready for her bath. He must have dozed because when he reopened his eyes, Ki had already bathed but was struggling with her hair. He gave her some assistance with it and she returned the favor when he joined her in the tub.

Sometime later, they sat feeding each other fruit and cheese, clean and still flushed from lovemaking. Ki was laughing at Tren’s reaction to Drace’s close proximity earlier that day. “I believe you now. I thought he was going under his horse,” Ki fed him a strawberry and gave him a bright smile.

Drace felt his heart flip-flop again in his chest. He opened his mouth as she offered him another bite of strawberry then watched as she bit into it after him. She licked its juice from her bottom lip and Drace felt a bolt of heat shoot straight south.

Christ,
he thought, as she watched with interest a part of him make its presence known. He had always been a ‘cuddle for a moment then maybe catch a short nap’ kinda guy after sex.
What in the name of, well, whatever, spell has she put on me? He couldn’t get enough of her. Is this what love does to a man or is it just Ki?

Ki raised an eyebrow as she observed his groin then gave a, ‘purely bent on trouble,’ look. She set the plate of fruit on a table then lunged at him, laying him out flat.

Afterwards, Drace thought,
She has the same problem with her hormones as I do.

They dressed, kissed, and headed down stairs to relax for a while with the others until Ki was ready to go to the armorer. Cearan was to go with them while Ka’Ril and Vashti were going to see their liege, Len Ra.

Drace, Ki, and Cearan walked through the village to what looked to Drace like a blacksmith shop.

An elf, tall and burly for his race, greeted Ki and Cearan as old friends. He had long black hair and his eyes were silver gray. Drace took one look at the elf’s biceps and made a mental note not to challenge him to arm wrestle.

“Drace, this is Jaron. He is the best maker of armor and chain mail in all the lands. Jaron, this is Drace, Lord MacKinnon,” Ki introduced.

Drace shot her a look, but she ignored him and continued, “He will need armor for himself and his stallion. He will also need a sword, two daggers, and a shield. Put this on the shield.” Ki pulled Drace’s shirt open, batting his hand away when he raised it to pull the garment closed, and showed Jaron the Scottish Lion tattoo.

Jaron traced it with a callused finger while Drace fumed silently. Once the elf was done, Drace snatched his shirt closed, his cheeks flushed. He shot Cearan a dirty look when the Lion-kin man snorted with suppressed laughter.

Jaron ignored Drace’s embarrassment and made a few notes on a piece of slate. “I would like to see how you move and your swordsmanship to know what is the best length and weight of the blade. Come now and I will measure you for your armor.”

Drace stood patiently for his measurements as Ki and Cearan chatted with the blacksmith. When Jaron finished measuring Drace, he went to a wall where several swords hung, chose one, handed it to Drace, and chose another, and faced off with him.

Ki and Cearan stood back to watch; ready to see how Drace fared against the elf, as Jaron was also a master swordsman.

The two men sparred easily for a few moments then Jaron took it up a level. They began to draw a crowd, as the swordplay grew intense. Jaron tripped Drace who went down, made a rolling move, which looked almost lazy, and came back to his feet in a spin. Moving in quickly with a flash of his blade, Drace’s blade slid down Jaron’s and pinned him to the wall of the shop. “Yield?” Drace asked, raising an eyebrow in question, then gave a slightly embarrassed smile when applause sounded around them.

“Of course, my Lord MacKinnon. Beautifully fought,” Jaron complimented as Drace stepped back and gave the practice sword a spinning twist with his wrist.

“I’ve never handled a weapon as balanced as this one. It is a wonderful sword,” Drace said in awe, handing it back to Jaron.

“Yours will be an equal if not better,” Jaron promised him.

It was late afternoon by then and Ki bid Jaron goodbye. She, Drace, and Cearan began to walk leisurely back to the house.

Cearan stopped them in the middle of the street. “You know Ki; I think Drace is in need of some shirts. May I have the pleasure of his company or awhile?”

Ki looked up at her brother. “Of course; do you have silver?”

“Yes, I have plenty.” He turned Drace around and steered him in a different direction.

Drace looked over his shoulder at Ki, who gave him a cheery wave then resumed walking back towards Vashti’s house.

“Look, I don’t need clothes. I’m dressed aren’t I?” Drace argued, feeling uncomfortable in the fact that
he
did not have any silver of his own.

“You are just saying that because you do not have silver yourself,” Cearan returned, as if reading Drace’s mind. “Consider it a gift, if you will. I want you to look like the Lord you are. You are seen with my sister so I may have a vested interest, yes?”

“You don’t seem like the sort to give a shit what anyone else has to say,” Drace replied, walking easily alongside the younger man.

Cearan was quiet for a few seconds, processing Drace’s words. “You are correct, my Lord, I do
not
‘give a shit’. I just enjoy arguing with you,” he grinned.

They arrived at a tailor shop just as it was closing. The proprietor did not seem pleased at their late arrival until Cearan jingled his purse, then he seemed more agreeable and called for his assistant.

It was dark when they left the tailor. Drace had in his possession one new shirt and pair of breeches. They had to wait for those to be altered to fit Drace’s height and build. Cearan had ordered for him two more pair of breeches, four shirts and a decent supply of underwear and stockings. He also purchased a coat for Drace, having it altered with the shirt and pants before they left.

Drace argued the clothes but he couldn’t pass on the coat. It was made from a bison beast hide with fur around the collar and the rest beautifully tanned. It was black and had crimson embroidery around the cuffs and hem. The hem hung almost to mid-thigh on him and the sides were split to his waist. The split was trimmed in embroidery as well and allowed for him to wear it when on horseback. He had never had a warmer coat.

Standing in the doorway of the tailor, Cearan looked at Drace, “Come, one last treat today.”

Drace protested, “Look, this is all fantastic but I can’t accept anymore.”

Cearan arched a tawny brow, managing an arrogant look. “Drace, shut up.”

Drace threw his hands up in surrender, tucked his package under an arm, and walked with Cearan to a small, neat tavern.

The tavern keeper greeted Cearan with a slap to his back and directed them to a good table. Cearan ordered two ales. “I assume you have ale in your world,” he commented. He sat, put booted feet on a chair across from him, and leaned back.

Drace moved his sword to the side, sat, and leaned back too. “Of course, in my part of the world it’s more typically called beer. I have a couple
on occasion.”

“Good!” Cearan exclaimed as their ales arrived. “The elven people are the best at brewing ale. The dwarfs make very good dark ale, but I prefer the lighter ale myself.” He took a healthy swallow then wiped the foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand. “Ah, that is good.” He took another swallow and watched to see if Drace liked the drink.

Cearan cradled his mug to his chest. “The elves are the most elegant tailors. You will find no finer needlework. It is the reason I wished to clothe you while we are here.”

“You really shouldn’t have. I can’t repay you, at least not yet,” Drace commented. He took a deep pull from his own mug.

Cearan waved off his words, “Still yourself—you sound like a woman.” Cearan dropped his feet to the floor and leaned over the table. “Did you ask to be taken from your world?”

Drace looked a bit surprised. “Well no.”

“Alright then; it is not as if you were able to pack for the occasion.” Cearan made a motion with his hand, indicating he was done with that subject. He leaned back once more, replacing his feet on the chair. He gave Drace a steady stare for a moment as they both finished off their ales. Cearan signaled for another round as he continued to study Drace. His attention was momentarily distracted as the busty barmaid arrived with their refills. She said something to Cearan in elvish, and he replied in the same language then put one big hand on her rump, giving a gentle squeeze. With a wink, the barmaid sauntered off.

Cearan returned his attention to Drace. “You have the look of a man well bedded, brother,” Cearan observed. “But I sensed something different in you this afternoon. What has changed?”

Drace looked at Cearan, expressionless. He took a swallow from his fresh ale.
Will he welcome my feelings for his sister or take exception?
he wondered. “I discovered something today and I’m not sure where to go from here,” Drace finally told him.

Cearan raised his eyebrows slightly and waited for Drace to continue. He saw the human searching his mind for the right words, and thought he saw a sadness flicker through Drace’s eyes.

Drace studied the contents of his mug for a moment then looked up at Cearan. “I realized today that I have serious feelings for Ki. I don’t know what to do…. My life…my circumstance…it is all rather complicated right now,” Drace confessed.

“What is it you feel for Ki?”

“I, um, I love her, man. So now what do I do? There is this little matter of me not being from your world and returning to mine someday.”

Cearan thought for a moment. “I can see three possibilities,” he said, raising a corresponding finger as he listed them, “One: keep things the way they are. Bed her, and love her well then go back to your world. Two: you could bond with her and be her mate until you decide to go back to your world. Bonding can be done that way. It is not always a life bond.”