Phantom of the Heart (12 page)

“What do you know about me?” she growled, surprised when the sound echoed into the silence around them. She looked around, startled by the deep vibrations. When she looked at the man, he smiled.

“It will all make sense very soon.”

The phrase sounded familiar, and she raked her mind to place it. He had said the same words to her in the church. He had known even then. She nervously licked her dry lips and swallowed hard.

“What is this? What is happening?”

The man stepped closer, and she quickly reached for the sword she now wore daily. Her hand tightened on the hilt.

“No need for that, milady. I am no match for you. I simply want to introduce myself.” He bowed deeply before her. “Romulus Harpon at your service, milady.” He quickly came upright again, his dark-blue eyes twinkling. “My friends call me Rom.”

Orla watched him, still a bit wary of his intention. The man shrugged and smiled at her.

“I take it you do not recognize the name, milady. Maybe your mother would, but I would not encourage you to enlighten her about my presence.”

Her mother? What did this have to do with her mother?
She pushed her fingers through her hair, her frustration growing, as did the burning feeling inside her chest.

“Tell me what you are here for and get it over with. I am growing weary of your riddles,” she snapped.

“Ah, but I cannot tell you about it. My task is to help you once you have braved the transformation.”

Orla stared at the man for a few moments, before she turned on her heel and walked away. The man was of no use to her and she had wasted valuable time with him.

“You know where to find me if you need to, milady,” she heard the man call after her. Orla did not break her stride as she put as much distance as she could between herself and the infuriating man.

She was still seething when she walked through the gates of the castle and to her shed. As she passed the stables, her eyes fell on a strange horse being brushed down by one of the young grooms.

“Felton, whose horse it that?”

The boy bowed quickly. “A messenger from Arnat, milady. He arrived a little while ago.”

She nodded and turned toward the castle. The horse had been ridden hard. It could mean trouble was brewing. If the army was where they were expected, then the urgency with which the messenger arrived was totally misplaced. She lengthened her strides and, within a few minutes, she found herself in the throne room. Cybralle was standing in front of the throne facing a frowning Mesmeria. It was Mesmeria who caught her standing in the door.

“It is good that you are here. I was just about to send for you. We have received some news.”

Orla bowed deeply before Mesmeria, before she straightened to hear the news. She threw a quick glance in Cybralle's direction and found the consort's troubled eyes resting on her.

“The Arnati troops came under attack just as they were about to cross the border. They have suffered heavy losses.” Cybralle's voice was flat as she relayed the news. “We will leave within the hour. I have already called the troops to arms.”

Orla nodded. “I am ready.” She looked at Mesmeria. “Who attacked them?”

Mesmeria shook her head. “The messenger could not tell us specifically. It was dark. He suspects it was wolves. He was sent out before they were completely surrounded.”

“If we leave now and ride through the night, we can be there within two days.” Cybralle caught Orla’s attention with a glance.

“I will make sure the weapons are packed and ready for transport.” Orla bowed again. “I am not sure if we will be back before you send another missive to the Wastelands. May I petition you for a favor, Your Majesty?”

Mesmeria smiled. “You may, Orla.”

Orla blushed at the knowing look on the queen's face. “Please tell her that I love her with all my heart and that I cannot wait to gaze upon her beautiful face again.” She lowered her eyes. “Also remind her to keep the faith until we meet again.”

When she looked at the queen, there was a soft look in her eyes. “I will write her a letter myself and convey your message.”

With curt nod, Orla left the throne room.

***

“You had better make sure that she returns unharmed, my love. I doubt our daughter would appreciate it if something was to happen to her.”

Cybralle's eyes followed her daughter-in-law as she walked away. She doubted Mesmeria had any idea how what she'd just said terrified Cybralle. Not many of the men knew what they were in for. If her suspicion about what was plaguing Arnat was true, they were walking into a very dangerous situation. Maybe she should reconsider taking Orla with her.

“Do you think she would be offended if I asked her to stay behind?”

Mesmeria shrugged. “I do not have an answer for you. The only other person who knows her well is Lima. Maybe you could ask her.” Mesmeria held out her hand to Cybralle and pulled her closer. “Do you really think it will be dangerous for her to go with you?”

Cybralle grimaced. “Going to war is a dangerous venture in itself. Fighting giant beasts that reportedly rip men apart…I do not know. It just seems more perilous to me.” Mesmeria's hand brushed through her hair and Cybralle leaned into the touch. “It will be dangerous for every warrior who follows me to Arnat, but Orla is a different story. It would break Sterling if something happened to Orla. I doubt I would be able to live with myself if I broke our daughter's heart.”

“Do not fret so much, my love. You said yourself that she is a great fighter. With her size and skill, I think she will be able to hold her own,” Mesmeria said gently. “Besides, they are soul mates and I doubt destiny would have brought them together only to tear them apart so soon.”

Cybralle's thoughts were jumbled even as she listened to Mesmeria's argument. Prince Halen's graphic rendition of the attacks still gave her nightmares. He had described bloodthirsty beasts, standing taller than a grown man, with glowing eyes and long teeth. The creatures' only weakness was silver. That knowledge only came to them by chance. Rumors reached the Arnati Royal House that a desperate farmer, trying to save his daughter from the claws of one of those creatures, had stabbed the beast in the chest with a lance furnished with a silver blade. The beast had screamed in pain, running off into the forest. Scared to follow the retreating fiend into the night, the villager rounded up a group of men and searched the forest the next morning. The beast was nowhere to be found. All they found was the corpse of a man, presumably another victim of the beast.

A mass production of silver weaponry was started, but it was found that suitable craftsmanship was lacking. The weapons were crude and weak posing more of a risk than an advantage. That was where Orla came in. She was renowned for her skill in taming any type of metal. Cybralle had tested and compared the blacksmith's swords and arrowheads to the ones brought from Arnat by the prince. The difference was remarkable. Orla's swords were lightweight and the blades tempered to a sharp finish as opposed to the heavy brittle blades from Arnat. Orla's job was done. Was it really necessary to take the blacksmith with them?

She pulled away from Mesmeria, giving her an apologetic smile. She needed to find Orla, but knew that Mesmeria, although she was not verbal about it, craved some intimacy. Mesmeria had always needed physical comfort when Cybralle left for war or even embarked on a short trip within the kingdom. She saw the hidden fear in the green eyes.

“You will come back to me, will you not?” Mesmeria's voice sounded small.

“I promise to be careful, my love.” She placed a soft kiss on Mesmeria's lips. “We still have to raise our grandchildren, and I would not miss that for the world.”

Mesmeria smiled weakly. “You had better keep that promise.”

Chapter 12

The music was lively and the wine was flowing freely. The cold was kept at bay by large fires around the camp. Sterling was seated in the shadow of her tent, watching the revelry. Today she had given them leave to celebrate. The day had been grueling, but a victorious one. The Hurians were pushed back deeper into their desert, every last one of them. She took a sip from the goblet in her hand as her eyes carefully touched each and every soldier sitting around the fire. Their eyes were riveted on the swaying hips of the dancing women she had brought in from a nearby village.

They deserved the break. Two months of heavy fighting had been followed by the somber atmosphere of burying their dead. They had lost many good warriors. Four thousand men were absent from tonight's celebration. She rubbed a hand over her face. The most painful task still lay ahead of her. No one liked imparting bad news, but it had to be done. Loved ones would be waiting with bated breath as the army returned. She took a generous drink from her goblet.

“She asked about you.”

Sterling raised her head slowly and looked up into the eyes of Miriam. The healer stood next to her.

“Who did?”

“The dancer.” Miriam took a sip from her cup. “She wanted to know if she could spend the night in your tent.”

Sterling smiled and looked past the healer to the dancing women. A beautiful brunette caught her eyes and held them. She smiled at the woman. She could so very easily become a likeness of Orla in her arms. She had the coloring, but she lacked the size. No, she would not do. Sterling wanted Orla and nobody else.

“I am married.”

Miriam snorted into her cup. “So are half of the men ogling her.”

Sterling smiled at Miriam. “But they are not married to their soul mates, it would seem.” She emptied her goblet in one swallow. “I want my wife and no one else will do for me.”

Miriam looked at her over the rim of her cup.

“You have changed, my friend. A few months ago you would have taken all the dancers to your tent and had your way with them.”

Sterling climbed to her feet. “And then I got married to the most beautiful woman in the world. I like it that way.”

“We all know your appetite, Sterling. I doubt someone as hungry as you can handle celibacy for so long. It is almost seven months now.”

Sterling grinned. “Well, then you will have to wait and see for yourself.”

Sterling watched as Miriam studied her carefully. The healer's eyes kept on straying to her hand where her wedding band glinted under the candlelight. She could not help but shake the feeling that Miriam knew more than she was willing to share.

“What is it about my wife that fascinates you so, Miriam?” Sterling's eyes sharpened. “If your interest is romantic, then I have to warn you that I am not sharing her.”

Miriam blinked. “Interested in her? No…no…Orla is way too much woman for me. Her size alone scares me off.”

Sterling smiled, a distant look in her eyes. Everything about Orla was perfect to her. She loved her beautiful eyes, the muscled arms which made her feel safe and her kisses which buckled Sterling’s knees. Looking over at Miriam she shrugged. “She is just perfect for me.” She held up her empty goblet. “I think I will go to bed. Tomorrow we will drive the Hurians even deeper into that hellish desert. The sooner we do that the sooner I can be back in my wife's arms.”

“Newlyweds,” Miriam teased and held out her hand to take the goblet from Sterling.

“Besides that, I am eager to start a family.” Sterling chuckled at the horrified look on Miriam's face. “What? It is expected of me to birth the next royals.”

Miriam raised a shaky hand to her throat. “With…with Orla?”

Sterling cocked her head to the side. “What a strange question, Miriam. She is my wife, after all.” Miriam's eyes darkened slightly, making Sterling frown. “What is this all about, Healer? You seem to know something that you are not telling me.”

“You are imagining things, Sterling. Is it so strange for a friend to ask a few questions?”

Sterling watched Miriam closely. She was hiding something. Miriam was never good at lying, but she was better at hiding something. Sterling was too tired to delve into the mystery that was Miriam right now. Maybe tomorrow she could sit the woman down and question her thoroughly.

“We will talk about this some other time. For now, I need to sleep.” She entered her tent, but turned back to look at Miriam. “I know you too well, Miriam. You are hiding something from me and I will find out what it is.”

***

“And you are sure that it was her?”

“Yes, milord.”

For a few moments silence reigned.

“Get everyone ready. I will be leaving with you in a few hours.”

Unable to hide his shock, the servant stared at his master. “I…I…”

Eerie blue eyes met his. “Was there something more you wanted?”

“No, milord. Your horse will be ready and waiting for you.”

“Good.”

***

Cybralle brought her horse up alongside Orla’s and Orla acknowledged the royal's presence with a curt nod. Cybralle looked formidable in her black body armor. Her large frame was bulked up more and the black helmet did little to hide her steely silver eyes. Gone was the smiling image the woman showed around the palace, replaced by this flint-eyed warrior. Orla watched as Cybralle scanned their surroundings before turning back to her.

“We have made good time today. I believe that we will meet the Arnati camp by noon tomorrow if we keep the same pace.”

Orla looked at the sun. It was almost dusk now and they would be crossing the border within the next hour or so. This would be the first time that she left Karas. She rarely traveled. Instead people traveled from all over to see her. If the work came to her then there was no real reason to leave the shed. But as she thought back to the past two days of traveling and the beautiful sights she had seen, she admitted that she had done a big disservice to herself. The feeling of riding on the back of a horse and even sleeping on the hard earth at night was incredibly liberating. There was nothing predictable about this. The landscape changed every day, as they made their way toward the renowned, mountainous kingdom of Arnat. She turned to Cybralle.

“I heard that when the gods molded Mount Olympus, they threw all the waste rock on Arnat.”

Cybralle smiled and cleared her throat softly. “I cannot attest for something that I have not seen with my own eyes, daughter, but many people accept it as the truth. Seeing the rock creations, it looks indeed as if these rocks fell from the sky.” The silver eyes were twinkling as they looked at Orla. “But what would it say about the gods to fling such big boulders from the sky, not caring if they could crush their subjects? As you can see, I have been thinking about it too, but have never come to a satisfying answer.”

Orla chuckled. “Is that the only reason why you do not ponder the origins of the mountains?”

“Partly, yes. But mostly because I find that by trying to question the origins of these rock formations, one fails to truly enjoy their beauty. If it is, indeed, a work of the gods, then I would think it should be enjoyed for the gift it was intended to be.”

Orla grinned. “I think you are right.” She returned her attention to the passing landscape.

“Are you happy with my daughter?”

Orla slowly turned to look at Cybralle. That was such an easy question to answer.

“I am.”

Cybralle's silver eyes were intense as they looked at her. “Then please do not die on this mission.”

“I do not have any plans to die soon, Cybralle.”

The royal smirked at that. “Good. Mesmeria and I are expecting you to make us grandparents, very soon.” Orla felt her face heating up and heard Cybralle laugh softly. “You did know that it would be expected of you, did you not?”

Orla reached for her water skin as a ploy to keep herself from having to look at the royal. She doubted she would ever feel comfortable enough to discuss sex with anyone who was not her wife. She was aware that she would be expected to produce children with Sterling, but she lacked the confidence to ask Sterling how they would go about it. When she was younger she had heard rumors of how the royal pair had conceived, but for her young mind, it was still too much to process. Thanks to Sterling, she could now. She could see Sterling's silver eyes ablaze with passion, her body taut in release and her mouth gaping. Orla sneaked a quick look at Cybralle and blushed when she found the royal consort looking at her. The knowing look in the silver eyes told her that her thoughts were not as hidden as she had hoped them to be. She was relieved when another warrior joined them.

“We are about to cross into Arnat, milady. I have instructed the men to stay together and keep their eyes open.”

Orla watched as Cybralle’s playful demeanor evaporated. The silver eyes, which were twinkling only a few seconds ago, grew hard.

“I will take up the lead now.”

The warrior shook his head quickly. “If milady would allow me, I would like to do that. I have selected the best men to surround you at all times.”

Cybralle’s voice was cold when she spoke. “Germi, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but you should not forget that I am a warrior, just like any of these men here. I did not come on this trip to be coddled. Now, as your commander, I relieve you from your position. Until we reach Erfolk, I will lead the men. Understood?”

The man swallowed hard and nodded. “Understood, milady.”

Orla saw Cybralle turn to her. “I want you to stay within the group. If something should happen I want you to be protected.”

“I am not letting you out of my sight. I am going where you go and I will be fighting alongside you.” Orla saw the silver eyes blaze with anger, but she refused to be intimidated. Cybralle would have to get physical with her to get her to back down. Judging from their sizes, they were evenly matched. Cybralle might have the advantage of experience, but Orla had youth on her side.

“That was not a request, Orla,” Cybralle said through her teeth.

“I know, milady. However, I still refuse to follow that particular order.”

With a deep growl, Cybralle flung herself at Orla. Orla grunted when the large frame crashed into her, tumbling her off her mount and slamming her hard against the ground. Dazed by the landing, she managed to open her eyes and found Cybralle's face very close to hers. The silver eyes were glowing with fury.

“You will do as I say, if you want to live to see your wife again. If not, I will send you home right now.”

Orla shook her head. “I will not leave your side, Cybralle. We both have a better chance of returning alive if we stick together.” She exhaled softly. “I do not desert family.”

She saw the silver eyes lose some of their heat, but still the anger remained. “Do you want my daughter to hate me forever if something happens to you?”

“Do you want the queen to die of a broken heart if you do not return to her?” Orla saw the anger dissolve at once. “Sterling is young and could probably still find someone else. Not that I wish it to happen. But the queen…she will die without you. Karas is not ready to lose their esteemed queen.”

Cybralle climbed to her feet and reached out a hand to Orla. Taking a deep breath now that the pressure was off her chest, Orla reached for her hand. When they were both standing nose to nose, Cybralle pulled Orla into a crushing embrace.

“Do not die, daughter, for I know that Karas will never be the same without you too.”

They parted, both embarrassed by the public display of emotion. Cybralle turned away quickly.

“Germi, I will ride out front with Orla. Make sure that we have a row of archers, just behind us.”

Orla touched the back of her head lightly. Maybe she should wear her helmet and maybe she should also stop underestimating Cybralle. The royal was as strong as an ox.

***

Hidden in a tree above, having witnessed the exchange, dark-blue eyes studied the retreating figure of Cybralle. Rom inhaled deeply soaking up the scent of the warrior. He sat in the tree long after the group had moved on. Sniffing the air, he felt his hackles rise. It was a full moon tonight.

He jumped down and was just about to blend into the thick, green foliage when he picked up a familiar scent. Turning slowly, he stared at the large man who had crept up on him.

“I have everything under control. I will not let her out of my sight.”

Without a word the man walked away.

***

Cybralle's hand moved to her sword, as she scanned the area around them. She had intended for them to ride through the night, but the area was too rocky. There were way too many caves in the area allowing their enemy to ambush them. She held up a closed fist. Germi was immediately at her side.

“It will be too dangerous to cross the pass through the mountains at night. We will make camp here. Let the men make large fires around the camp. We will all keep watch tonight from within the circle.”