Daryk Warrior (7 page)

He started to leave and she reached out for his arm and
pushed tight words through her throat. “Please. Be careful.”

He nodded. “Always.”

With that, he left.

Chapter Five

Eryk navigated through the crowd, well aware panic gripped
some as they rushed to return home within the castle walls or to bed down for
the night in the courtyards and common areas. Few would leave the castle if an
attack came. He needed intelligence now. He searched the area for other Daryk
Ones and didn’t see any recognizable faces.

Fuck.

All he’d wanted for the rest of the day was a good drink and
a soft bed. That wouldn’t come anytime soon if conflict broke out at the
castle. Number one, his priority felt like it should be Mia, but he knew his
duty as a Daryk One should come first. Defend the people. Defend the common
good.

The tavern house in the farthest south corner of the castle
sat three stories tall, its second and third floors accommodation for guests.
The proprietor slept in the gloomy damp cellar level, a surprising thing if
ever there was a surprise. He spotted the tavern sign above the crowd. Felican
Tavern. A dull and plain wood sign. No need for embellishments or fancy titles.
This tavern served all that came in with many types of drinks. They didn’t
discriminate, and while he could have brought Mia with him, he didn’t want her
out in a possibly dangerous situation. If she tried to run again…well what
could he seriously do?

Two clearly intoxicated men stumbled out of the tavern and
almost ran into him. He ignored the far smaller men and pushed the big door
open. It protested, a loud squawk that didn’t pause the equally voluminous
chatter within the good-sized room. Laughter broke out. People of all heights,
weights and dispositions filled tables, eating and drinking and flirting.
Taverns didn’t care if you were man or woman. Money and drink were the name of
the game. Annalica was nowhere in sight.
Damn.
Eryk moved across the
room to the bar area and ordered an ale. Before he could ask he felt a tap on
his shoulder. He swung around and a fist came straight at his face. He ducked
and caught the hand that came for him, squeezed the bunched fist in on itself.

A tall, beautiful woman with silvery blonde hair that flowed
to her waist was attached to the fist. Blue eyes flashed like cold fire, a
strange glow that sometimes hovered above Imekland mountains at night.

Annalica.

She jerked her fist from his grip and planted her hands on
her hips. Her glare could strip the hide off a dragon at a hundred paces. “You
bastard. What are you doing in my tavern?”

Half amused, he lifted one eyebrow. People all around them
gawked but he didn’t give a shite. “Good to see you too, Annalica.”

Her glare didn’t soften but she rounded the side of the bar.
Maybe she thought she needed protection from him. If she threw another punch
he’d evade her.

She threw a disgusted look at the barman. “Don’t give him
anything. His money isn’t welcome here.”

The barman retreated from the area to help another patron.
Annalica’s beautiful eyes sent fire at Eryk, and at one time her brand of fury
would have aroused him. Hells, as late as a few days ago he would have found
her beauty exciting. Not today. And he couldn’t say why. It annoyed the shite
out of him.

He gestured sharply toward the front door. “People are
running around out there in a panic. What have you heard?”

She flicked a glance his way then looked around at her
patrons. They were too souped up to care what happened outside the walls.
“There’s talk of a war party heading this way. Some of Drakus Fina’s men.
They’ve been raiding every few days.”

“I was here for the last one. Who is your source?”

“My lover.” Her gaze snapped to his and held.

He knew she wanted him jealous. She’d angled to get in his
trousers for as long as he could remember. His distrust of her had won over a
Daryk One’s desire for sex. She’d sell him up the river to the highest bidder
if the right payment came her way.

“And?” He crossed his arms. “You lover spread a rumor about
a raid on Felican or he got it from a reliable source?”

“Reliable.” She swallowed hard. “He used to be one of Drakus
Fina’s men.”

Unease started in his stomach. “Used to be?”

She glanced at the floor. Yeah. She didn’t know whether to
believe this so-called lover.

“How does he know about an attack? He’s not one of Drakus’
men anymore,” Eryk said.

Annalica’s gaze flicked to a point behind him and the hair
on the back of Eryk’s neck rose. He turned slowly, his hand reaching for the
hilt of his sword.

A man even taller than Eryk stood not five feet from him.
Mixed dark and gray hair tossed this way and that on the man’s head. His dark
eyes held menace, his lips were tight. With a pugnacious jaw and big crooked
nose, the man would scare most women shiteless. His dark, sleeveless tunic
showed powerful arms, his physique one of fitness. Most likely he carried
substantial coin. Hence Annalica’s attraction to him.

“Disrespect my woman and you die,” the older man said.

Eryk sized the man up. The guy was taller, yes, but not as
strong. Older. Not a Daryk One. Still, Eryk didn’t want a fight.

Eryk looked the guy straight in the eye. “No disrespect
intended. I don’t give two dragon turds. What I want to know is if there is a
credible threat to Felican Castle.”

Eryk also didn’t care if the rest of the tavern heard him.
Judging by the way heads swiveled in his direction, quite a few patrons had.

The man eyeballed him and put his hand out to shake. “Then I
think we can work together. I’m Boltga Arch. I work off and on with Marc Gambia
at his compound.”

Eryk knew Marc Gambia well. The man owned a huge complex
that wasn’t as large as Felican Castle but was well-guarded and perfectly
neutral. Even more neutral than Felican Castle.

Eryk shook hands. “Work? In what capacity?”

Boltga glanced around the room. “I need more privacy to talk
about this.”

“Outside then.” Eryk didn’t trust the man, and talking
outside at least wouldn’t leave Eryk in a room alone with the guy.

Eryk didn’t bother to look at Annalica. He didn’t care what
she thought of her lover’s willingness to talk peaceably. Chatter in the tavern
returned to a dull roar. The show was over. Eryk didn’t turn his back on
Boltga, and the man left in front of Eryk.

Just outside the tavern Eryk said, “For immediate clarification,
I’m not interested in Annalica. You don’t need to worry in that regard.”

Boltga grunted then a smile crossed his ugly mug. “Good.
She’s a fuckin’ handful if there ever was one. Not sure I’ll have much use for
her soon.”

Eryk kept his voice low and firm. “The second thing you
should know about me is that I won’t stand by and watch a woman brutalized in
any way, even if I don’t respect her.”

Boltga’s bushy eyebrows went up. “I may be the biggest
asshole you’ve ever met but I don’t harm women. When I’m done having my fun, I
just leave.”

Eryk nodded. “Then we see eye to eye.” Eryk didn’t relax.
People still rushed around as if frightened and certain an attack would come
soon. “Annalica aside, I need to know about the threat to Felican Castle. Have
you told Bellrus Familia?”

Boltga nodded. “As soon as I arrived here two hours ago.”

Eryk leaned against the wall behind him. The solid surface
gave him security. “I won’t accept Dragonian unity if it means innocents are
thrown to dragons because they don’t believe the way Drakus Fina does. They’re
stealing Magonian women to be sex slaves. That, and a plan to invade Magonia
are not acceptable to me. If you’re on that side we’re enemies.”

Boltga shook his head. “Draconus, no.”

“Then why the fuck were you once a part of Drakus’ rank and
file?”

“I was planted there years ago to spy on him but he found me
out and I barely escaped with my skin.”

Eryk pondered the information for a moment. “I’ll take you
at your word right now.”

“Now?”

“Give me any reason to suspect you’re lying and I’ll make
sure your ass is thrown in the dungeon. Now tell me about this attack.”

A shout came from a guard in the tower closest to the
tavern. “Rogues are coming!”

* * * * *

Mia twisted the knob that shut off the water cascading into
the tub. She sank into the cold water with a gasp. Magon, this water was the
coldest she’d encountered for a bath. She wished she’d used the cascading water
device across the small room to bathe. On Magonia they had similar devices that
worked the same way, though these seemed more complex and well-made. In Scribe
school life had proved austere and she’d never expected much in the way of
luxury. The huge tub in the bathing area of the room surprised Mia because so
few homes in Magonia had both tub and sprinkling device. She quickly washed,
her whole body shivering by the time she finished. It felt wonderful though, to
wash her hair clean of grime.

She’d hoped Eryk wouldn’t return soon. She could finish her
bathing routine and think on what she should do next. Mia jumped out of the
water, grabbed one of the thick material wraps hanging on a bar near the tub
and dried vigorously. Donning her new clothes felt wonderful. The light blue
tunic and pants, made of a fluid material, were far nicer than the stained,
dirt-encrusted clothes lying on the floor. She’d throw away those old clothes
because she doubted she had time to clean them before they’d leave the castle
and press onward. The backpack purchased at the clothing shop was filled with
her other new clothes. After dressing, she hurried to dry her hair. The thick
mass tended to curl a bit here and there and the comb removed knots with ease.
She returned to the main room and sat on the bed to finish combing her hair.
She smiled. Another example of the lies Magonians told their people. Some
things might be primitive and awful here but Magonia had its own problems. She
thought of her friends on Magonia, even though she only had two she’d consider
good friends. Dania and Litia, twin sisters who’d gone through Scribe school
with her from the beginning. Tears filled her eyes. They’d sacrificed so much
for her. Guilt stung hard and deep as she swallowed her tears with a sob.

She recalled Dania’s last words to her before she was
dragged away.
You have to go on, Mia. You are stronger and younger than we
are. You need to spread the truth. To make sure others know what a travesty
we’ve created here. The lies must be exposed.

Mia sobbed again, the sound tight and high and filled with
misery. She sucked in a breath and struggled for control. Tears were weakness.
Not allowed. Strength before anything. Stoic even in the face of death. She
shivered and rubbed her arms. Dania and Litia would tell her to buck up and
take it. To fight against the softness that kept her vulnerable. She must
harden her heart, bring strength to the forefront. No time for ridiculous
sentiments.

A sound came from somewhere far away.

Mia listened, uncertain what she heard at first. Banging
noises. Booms. Strange thuds. People screaming? Perhaps the war Eryk had spoken
of had come? Apprehension danced along her skin and made her shiver even more.
She hurried to the small window and looked out. Droves of men dressed in
clothing similar to Eryk’s charged the castle. The men’s faces twisted in
menace and gave no doubt of their intentions.

“God Magon.” She breathed the words, fear knotting in her
belly.

She rushed to her backpack on the bed and stuffed her new
belongings inside.

Escape.

The word rushed through her head despite his advice that she
stay in the lodgings no matter what happened. Dozens of thoughts ran through
her head like lightning. What if he was killed? She’d be left alone in this
strange, violent world. Granted, she knew more about Dragonia than most
Magonians, but not enough to feel expert. Not to feel as secure as she’d like.
Eryk hadn’t left her money, but she hadn’t expected he would. She’d left
Magonia hoping to arrive in this land with the little Dragonian money she’d
managed to get and with her wits. Now what did she have? No money. Exhaustion
weighed on her but she’d have to do whatever it took to survive. If she could
make it through a shipwreck she could live through whatever those rampaging
rogues outside had in mind.

A bang on the door startled her. She kept her backpack on
but stepped to the door. Another bang. What in the name of Magon? She didn’t
speak. Perhaps whoever it was would go away. Eryk would have called out to her.

“Mia! Are you in there?” Finny’s voice rang out.

Mia pulled the table away from the door and unlocked it. The
door flew open and hit Mia. She stumbled backward, tripped and fell straight
onto stone flooring with jarring brutality. Finny tumbled through the doorway
as a man behind her pushed the woman through. Finny landed on her hands and
knees and cried out. Shocked but unhurt, Mia sprang to her feet and squatted
next to the older woman.

“Are you all right?” she asked Finny.

Finny’s terrified eyes met Mia’s gaze. “Yes.”

Finny clung to Mia as they struggled to their feet.

“Well isn’t this a pretty sight?” one of the men said as he
slammed the door behind him.

Mia took in the bruiser’s appearance and the man who’d
shoved Finny into the room. Both looked as tall as Eryk, though perhaps not as
strong—still they could probably take on a normal-sized man with little effort.
The man who’d first spoken had light blond hair that fell to his shoulders
while the other had black hair that wasn’t as long or thick. Both men possessed
brutal faces. Similarities in their features made her wonder if they were
brothers. Both wore sleeveless dark tunics, trousers and boots. Their swords
were sheathed but the belts around their waists bristled with various knives.

A surge of determination mixed with stark fear inside Mia.
“Who are you and what do you want?”

The blond man tapped his chest. “Kemrond. Warrior for
Dragonia.”