Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (50 page)

“I want you to have this house.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “Just wait, okay?” He took a long pull on his beer and set it on the coffee table and then scooted closer to Maggie. He took one of her hands in his. “I know your work is in D. C. I know you travel a lot. But if you would take it, I want you to have this house to use whenever you want. I’ll make arrangements for its upkeep while you’re away. The catch is you can’t sell it. If you decide you don’t want it, it goes back to the farm. Same if, God forbid, something happened to you. In the event of your death, it goes back to the farm. There are a few things I want to take with me, but the furniture and bed linens and stuff stay with the house. What is left in it is yours to do with as you wish.”

“May I have the videos of you riding and things like that?” she asked, watching his thumb do lazy circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “If you want them. Most of my books, you know, I’m taking, but I can’t take them all. I’m leaving most of my clothes. If there is anyone you know that could use them, give them to away.”

“I don’t know anyone as big as you,” she said. “Nick isn’t quite as tall and he’s a lot heavier.”

“Donate them to your favorite charity then.”

“This is like taking care of someone’s personnel belongings after they have died,” she said huskily and Drace heard tears in her voice. “I’ll do it for you, though,” she promised.

“So you’ll take the house?”

“Yes, I’ll take the house. I don’t know what to say. Thank you just doesn’t seem like enough for a gift like this.”

Drace leaned in and kissed her softly on her mouth and then handed her the envelope containing the signed deed. “Don’t thank me. Just come here to relax and get away from things once in a while.”

He stood up and dug in a front pocket, coming out with something fisted in his hand. He sat back down next to Maggie. “I want you to have this too.” He relaxed his hand and the dragon’s tear slid down the gold chain to hang suspended between them. He had switched the smaller lion ring to the leather cord and it lay safely back in the wooden chest once more.

“I can’t take that,” she protested firmly, pushing it away.

“Yes, you can. I want you to have it. I think there is some magic in it. It came from Nimbus so it may offer you some protection. It is mine to give and I’m giving it to you.” He propped on one knee and moved to hook the clasp behind her slender neck. When he released it, the stone hung at her cleavage. A picture came to his mind of it resting between her naked breasts and sucked in a breath.

She jerked her gaze to meet his. “Oh my,” she whispered at the heat in his eyes.

Drace cleared his throat and rested his full weight back on the couch. “There is one more thing I’d like for you to do. This is a favor just for me. My parents are buried on the farm in our family graveyard. When you do come down, would you just walk out and say hey to them? I know it sounds stupid but I’d feel better knowing someone here hasn’t forgotten them.”

“I’d be happy to do that for you. Where is the cemetery?”

Drace gave her directions and instantly felt better knowing someone he cared about would be watching out for those who he missed.

Drace pulled her into his arms for a hug.” You are somethin’ else, sweet Maggie.

She looked into his eyes then. The earlier heat had cooled in him but the feel of her breasts against his hard chest made her forget the promise she’d made to herself to keep sexual thoughts out of her head. “I think you had better let me go or I won’t be responsible for what happens next,” Maggie warned and pushed away from him.

Her hands against his chest brought a grunt of pain from him. She grabbed at his arm, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m sorry, Drace.”

He laughed and caught at her hands. “I’m okay, Mag. Don’t cry, hon.”

“Let me check. I might have popped one of your stitches.” She grabbed at the hem of his sweater and began pulling at it.

“Whoa, Maggie, I’m okay, really.” He caught her hands and pulled her against him. “Easy girl.”

Maggie realized he was laughing; tears of mirth fell from the corners of his eyes.

She escaped his hold and stood up to stare at him. “You are a bit odd, Drace MacKinnon,” she declared, which for some reason caused him to laugh harder.

He finally gained control of himself. “Come on, hon. Let’s go get some sleep,” he said, standing and extending his hand. “I’m tired.”

He walked with her down the hall and when she turned to go into her room he pulled her past it, and steered her into his.

“I don’t understand? I thought…”

“Shhh,” he silenced her. “If you are willing, I would like to have you sleep next to me tonight. I’m really going to miss you, Maggie. I’d like to have what time I can with you. Please?”

She stepped close to wrap herself around him. “I would be happy to.”

He led her to his room, leaving the overhead light off. He moved to turn the bedside lamp on then pulled one of his t-shirts from a drawer and tossed it to her. “I am just a man. I only have so much strength, so please have pity on me.”

She smiled and then turned to leave the room. “I’ll change in my room.”

After he passed her in the hallway coming back from the bathroom, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and found another pair of pajama bottoms, and then lay down. He pulled the elastic from his hair and finger combed it. He lightly rubbed at his sutures. He yawned tiredly and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. When he opened them, Maggie was coming into the room, his tee hanging half way to her knees.

“You’re not getting this one back, I hope you know,” Maggie said, crawling under the covers and lying down next to him.

“I know. It’s all yours,” Drace said as he turned off the lamp. He lay down on the side of the bed, putting her on his uninjured side. He pulled her against him and held her with one arm. He put his free arm behind his head.

“You know,” he began. “I’ve wondered, but never have gotten around to asking you. Is Maggie short for Margaret?”

“No, Magdalene. I’m Magdalene Sarah Shaffer. It’s a bit stuffy if you ask me. What’s your middle name?”

“James. Nothing fancy about that one. That was my maternal grandfather’s name. He rubbed her arm lightly. “What’s your next project? Any big digs coming up?”

She snuggled more comfortably against his shoulder. “We’re trying to get through the red tape to go back into the priest’s tomb and hopefully find more close by it. Sometimes it takes a year or more to get past all the bureaucracy before we can get into a site. That’s if we can get funding,” she explained.

Drace gave a sound of acknowledgement, and then moved so that he faced her. He brushed loose curls from her face. “You mean a lot to me, Maggie. I am in your debt for the rest of my life.”

She saw him looking at her in the dim light. She touched his face in return, smiled sadly at him, and whispered, “I love you.” She knew he wouldn’t say it in return. “Have a bunch of kids and a happy and long life. Think of me fondly on occasion.”

“Everyday,” he said and meant it. He kissed her so tenderly it made her give a little sigh of emotion.

He lay flat again and snuggled her against him once more. They didn’t talk anymore; they just lay in silence until sleep claimed them both.

When Drace woke the next morning, she was gone.

MAGGIE’S EMOTIONS alternated between fear and frustration. She had left D. C. late last night in time to see Drace and Cerise off to their new life.

Unfortunately, her car had had a flat tire on the way and she had nearly wreaked it. It had been trouble from then on. She had not been able to find her jack. Then, finally, she had located it but she didn’t have the strength to get the lug nuts off. Just as she was about to give up all hope, a kindly gentleman stopped and assisted her. She thanked him profusely and left in a rush, pushing her luck with the speed limit.

She made it to the farm just before the sunrise. She ran into the house and saw a glass with a single rose in it and an envelope propped against it. She picked up the envelope and tore it open. A note and a check fell onto the table. She grabbed the note:

Beautiful Maggie,

I don’t have the words to say how much I’ll miss you. Know that I hold much respect, affectation, and yes, love for you. Find yourself a nice guy and have a wonderful life. But first, make the discovery of a lifetime. Enclosed is a check to fund your future expeditions. Use some for yourself and buy yourself something nice. I hate that this is goodbye, Maggie, but I guess it must be.

I love you, Drace.

She stared at it for a second, thinking he had beautiful handwriting for a man, and then folded it and tucked it carefully in her coat pocket. She picked up the check and glanced at it. She staggered and grabbed the back of a chair.
Holy Hannah, I can dig all over Egypt for years and still have money left.

She glanced out the window and saw a faint pink beginning over the barns. She left the check on the table and ran out to jump into her car. She drove as close as she dared then ran the rest of the way.

Fear shot through her as she thought she might be too late. The soft whinny of a horse gave her hope and she ran faster. She came into the clearing to see Drace climbing onto a wagon, dressed in brown breeches, tall black boots, and his barn coat over a heavy tan sweater. His slouch brim hat rode low over his eyes.

“Drace! Oh God, Drace!” she called, making him turn at her voice.

Drace stepped down and caught her as she launched herself into his arms, breathless from her run. She babbled her tale as he looked down at her.

“It’s okay, you made it,” he said huskily, wiping at the tears that streamed down her face. “Barely. We don’t have much time.”

Maggie became aware of the shimmering feel of something different in the clearing. A breeze was picking up and tugged at the loose ends of their hair.

Drace hugged her hard. “Before you ask, the check is good.”

Maggie laughed and wiped at her tears. “I’ll never forget you, Drace,” she said, breathlessly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Take care of yourself, Magdalene Sarah Shaffer.”

He kissed her, a hard, sweet goodbye kiss, and tasted her tears.

“You had better go,” she finally said as they broke apart. “Be happy.”

Drace touched her cheek gently. “You too. Maggie, I…,”

She stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Go on.”

Drace hugged her once more, then ran a hand gently over her cheek. He gave a choked sounding sigh and turned abruptly to climb onto his wagon.

Maggie walked back to give Cerise a hug and say goodbye.

“Don’t grieve for him,” Cerise told her. “He’d hate that.”

“I know, but it’s going to be hard for awhile.” Maggie patted Cerise on her arm “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Take care of him and yourself.”

Talk became difficult as the wind began to increase and the horses began to move restlessly. They exchanged one last hug and Cerise climbed up on the second wagon.

Maggie turned to look towards Drace and found him watching her. He gave her his beautiful smile and then he turned forward and kissed to his horses. The two black stallions started forward, leaning into the harness, and Cerise’s team followed, their noses close to the rumps to the horses tied behind Drace’s wagon.

Maggie had to squint her eyes as dust picked up with the wind and when she was able to open them wide again, she caught a flash of the tails of Cerise’s gray horse and the red coated Andalusian stallion. A second later they were gone.

Maggie sent a prayer up to Arahtok, falling to her knees. She let the tears come freely then, as she felt the pain of loss wash over her. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, but when she looked behind her there was no one there.

A woman’s voice whispered in her head. “Be at peace, little one. The dark one will be well.” Ah Tala, bless her.

Maggie felt peace wash over her, then staggered to her feet and with one last look in the direction Drace had taken, she turned and headed back to her car.

Cerise had to pull the mares to a halt when Drace came to a sudden stop in front of her. He jumped from the wagon’s seat to land on the ground, wobbled a few steps and then went to his knees and vomited.

When he finally finished, he rose and wiped his mouth, his other hand going to hold his head. “Jesus,” he swore. He walked over to Cerise. “You okay?’

“My head hurts a bit but I’ll be fine,” she answered, feeling a dull throbbing in her temples and an annoying feeling of fatigue.

Drace checked the horses and they all seemed to have made the transition well. He went back to his wagon, stopped at Pride’s rump and then bent to vomit again.

When he felt that he could stand straight and not puke, he patted Pride’s hip and then climbed back onto the wagon. He found his bottle of water and took a pull then spit it out, rinsing his mouth. His head pounded viciously.

Drace squinted against the bright sunlight, looked around to get his bearings and saw a familiar landmark, a rock that looked like a falcon’s head. They were further away than he had anticipated. At least two days, probably more, with the wagons.

They were sitting in open grassland, interrupted by the occasional boulders jutting up. He looked to the sun and got his directions worked out.

Drace kissed to the horses and they started rolling again. He turned them more westward and picked up a slow trot. He was taking it slower than he wished since the smaller Friesian mare appeared close to foaling. He had worried that the very trip to the other plane would upset her. She was pulling at her lead in high spirits so he put that worry away for a while.

They traveled about a mile when Drace stopped again to vomit.

This time Cerise set the brake on her wagon and came to where he knelt, looking pasty with a sheen of sweat on his face. “Drace, what’s wrong? Did you come down with the flu or something?”

Drace didn’t answer right away a he retched again. He covered his eyes. “My head,” he gasped. “God, it’s going to split in half. I can hardly see.”

She knelt down beside him. “Did it hurt before we left?”

“No. It’s the transition. I know it. It was pretty bad the first time, but Vashti did something to help. I don’t remember much the second time—I was so doped up at the hospital. Oh, Christ!” he swore and dry heaved.

“It sounds like a migraine kind of headache. We have two choices, I think. We can camp here and go on when you feel better, or I can see if I have some sort of super strength headache medicine in my bag.”

“Go on,” Drace whispered, holding his head carefully. “We need to go on. Got to camp by water.”

“Okay. Let me go see what I’ve got in my bag. Don’t let your wagon get away,” she said but grabbed a lead rope from the seat and snapped it to Pride’s bridle, handing Drace the other end. She doubted that the horse would leave him anyway. Raven on the other hand might start something.

She walked swiftly to her wagon and found her bag. Quickly, she rummaged until she lucked into finding some migraine formula pills. She wasn’t even sure why she had them but was glad that she did. She read the dosage and came back with the required amount of medication.

Drace had climbed back to his wagon’s seat and sat with his head in his hands. He took the pills from Cerise gratefully; his hands shook. He swallowed them and took a cautious sip of water to chase them.

“Listen,” he whispered and proceeded to tell her how to navigate on the plains.

“Why are you telling me this?” Cerise asked, worried.

“If I can’t get us there it’s up to you. Pride and Raven will follow you,” he explained. There is a stream about a half day’s ride from here, if I remember correctly. That was an easy pace on horseback. I think we can do it close to that. We can take a break there.”

“What do I look for?”

“There’s a high rock shaped kinda like a chimney. Just past that you should be able to see a small stand of trees. The stream is next to it. Don’t go into the trees. I’ll check it out. Assume that anything and anyone is dangerous. Beat the hell out of me to get my attention if you have to.”

Drace gave her a pained but stern look. “I mean it, C. I can fight if I have to. Keep a careful watch as we go.”

“Okay. How far do you want to go before resting the horses?”

“If we keep up a fast walk, give them a break in a couple of hours. Check for any rubs.”

“I know. Hopefully that medicine will kick in quick. I wasn’t nervous until you said that.” Cerise patted his hand and walked back to her wagon.

Drace released the brake on his wagon and spoke quietly to Pride. The horse flicked his ears back and then picked up a brisk walk.

Drace managed to hold out the whole day, but felt miserable when they finally reached a place to camp by a small river with trees lining the bank. The jarring of the wagon had done nothing to help the pounding in his skull.

He climbed from the wagon after arming himself and came from the trees a few minutes later to lead Pride and Raven into their shade.

Drace and Cerise got all the horses settled; tied to trees after being watered, hay nets provided, and each one blanketed as the temperature was dropping.

Drace started a fire and finally settled to rest.

Cerise found the fried chicken she had brought for their first meal. “Do you think you could eat something? This chicken won’t last until tomorrow.”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel as bad as I did earlier. At least I don’t have the desire to gouge out my eyes anymore.” He reached for a thigh and took a hesitant bite. He ate only a few more bites before giving up. “Sorry to waste it but I just can’t eat anymore or I’ll puke again.”

Cerise fetched him more medication and let him rest. She watched him for a while as he sat quietly, staring into the flames of the fire. His posture was deceptive, she knew, as he listened to the surrounding night. Arahtok had promised safe passage but only a fool traveled this world without taking some care.

“I’ll watch for awhile if you want to try to sleep,” she volunteered.

“I could stand to close my eyes for a bit. Pride will warn you if there’s trouble,” he said. He handed her his dagger, knowing it would make her feel safer. He also knew his condition was tantamount to the deep dragging fatigue he had experienced the first time he had arrived here.

When he woke four hours later, his headache was mostly gone, except for a nagging ache behind his eyes. He turned his head to see Cerise nodding off as she sat leaning against a tree. She was still wearing brown breeches, and a cocoa colored thick sweater, with a tan barn coat over it. She had her plaid wrapped around her, one hand free of the soft tartan material, the dagger fisted tightly in her right hand. Her head jerked up as she caught herself.

“I’m awake,” he said quietly so not to startle her. H stood and handed her his blanket, and then added a couple pieces of wood to the fire. Satisfied it would burn for a while, he went to walk the perimeter of the trees, his own plaid loosely draped around his shoulders, his sword free for his hand.