Dragon Frost (26 page)

“
Let’s
go.”

The town
is quiet as the towns’ people stare at us as we walk by. I can’t
help but glare at them; pleased to know I still wore my helmet with
my faceplate covering my upper features. The eyes and brows were
the most common way to communicate without the verbal communication
people use in our days. I can’t help but glare—I don’t even
understand why I’m frustrated better yet I don’t understand why I
am frustrated. I open my door and storm inside. I wonder if I’m mad
at myself for allowing myself to become yet another victim to that
hideous Ogre. I still can’t quiet put my finger on why I’m so mad.
I plummet down on my bed and place my head in my
hands. 
Why am I mad?
 I think to myself as I try to put together these bits
and pieces. I can’t allow my enemies to exploit my emotions—that
which they know is
 our
 kryptonite.

A knock
on my door sounds and I crane my head to the right. “Come in.” I
call and the door is pushed open revealing Varden who looks down at
me with concern. I turn my gaze from him. Why am I annoyed? Why am
I frustrated? Why do I insist on kicking myself for things I’ve
done or said when others have forgiven me? “Varden?”

“
You
okay?” he asks, not giving me a chance to question his
presence.

I nod and
he moves to sit on my bed. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asks, I
shake my head. I don’t mind. How can I? It’s just like having John
in my bed when I know Varden isn’t him. Still, the resemblance is
striking even at the thought of it I find myself staring into his
pale blue eyes I have to say I loved on John and love on him also.
It’s like he was born to look so striking. I pull my eyes away and
lock them on the wall opposite my bed that tucks against the wall
and a small window. “Everyone is fine, no one is seriously hurt.
Just a little shaken.” he states and I nod. He continues, “The
towns’ people are grateful for you and Lifet’s help.” I turn to him
with shock he gives me a blank look. I curse
inwardly. 
Why do men seem to give me such unreadable expressions at
times?
 
  

“
He’s the
man that accompanied you, right?” he asks and I nod. The air is
still as it is filled with an apprehensive muteness. “We’ll . . .
I’m glad.” I continue to gaze at him unsure how to react, a smile
stretches across his now red tinted face. “No need to look at me
like that. I’m not mad. Just wished you’d share stuff with us. Both
Altair and I feel the same.”

“
Really?”
I ask, he nods.

“
Also, we
kind of want you to describe the situation with the Assassin. You
know the one that tried to kill me.” His eyes are blank and I nod
in understanding. 
Better get this over with.

“
I told
you. He isn’t going to kill Varden.” I say to Altair for the
hundredth time and can’t help but throw my hands up for more of a
dramatic effect. In the presence of people, I feel safe and
comfortable with my real personality seems to surface not that I
mind.

“
You
don’t know that.” accuses Altair.

“
Yes. I
do.”

“
No. You
don’t.” Varden sits adjacent to us while Altair sits directly
opposite me at our table in the tavern at the Inn. People seem to
become more familiar with us, since we’ve been here for three days
now and managed to ward off danger and demons. Even though we need
to move on.

“
Ah. Yes
I do.” I declare and I hear Varden sigh but ignore it. I’m not too
sure about how long Altair and I have been at this but he’s really
being difficult—if this is what I have to be married to I think I
would take Varden over him not that I would voice that or think
that out loud. The last thing I want is for Varden and Altair to
have a smack down of their own and I know who’s going to win,
that.

“
You’re
being difficult right now.” he states.

“
I’m
being difficult. Me! Really?” I question as I cross my arms and
lean back in my chair as I cross my legs. He seems to continue this
debate even though Lifet was the one that helped me save the women
and strategised a way to protect the town. He’s a hero and yet
Altair is treating him like some outlaw. I won’t have it. It’s one
thing when people do it to me it’s another when they do it to
someone who is worthy of a medal.

“
Yes you.
You’re always so—“ Altair is cut short.

“
Enough!”
snaps Varden. “You two have been at this stupid debate for three
hours. I really would like some peace and quiet if it’s not too
much to ask. Please!” Altair and I fall silent and slouch lower in
our seats not looking at each other. “You two can be such
children.” I glance at him with a risen brow. “Don’t you dare give
me that look Missy you know it’s true, you too Altair.” He points
an accusing finger at Altair as if he were telling off a child for
playing with paint and spreading it inside the house. His voice is
form and face is hard. I glance at Altair we’re both surprised by
his action. “Okay, now what?” he asks and I turn away and feel
Altair do the same.

“
Nothing,” I quickly retort.

“
Nothing,” Altair quickly adds, as fast as mine had
come.

The next
day we leave the town of ‘
Avengald’
 behind as several Knights arrive to fill in for us
while we continue on our journey. Gustof had said that there would
be other Knights arriving we just had to hold out until they made
it through the mountains in the north. “You know with all that’s
happened I’ve never been more looking forward to arriving at
Midra.” states Varden as he leads our horses east—the direction
where Midra is expected to be. I glace at Varden’s back feeling a
pull of guilt weighing down on me. He’s such a good guy and I feel
like I’m playing around with him. It honestly didn’t feel
right.

“
So, Kal,
what’s up with you and that Assassin?” asks Varden raising a brow.
I give him a side glance. “Don’t play innocent, is he your new
squeeze?” I can hear Altair growling. His hands grip the reins
tightly as he clenches his teeth—his jaw muscles contract in
accordance, Varden has his back turned on me but appears so what
cocky and confident. I really want to slap him off his horse right
now. Instead I tried to act casually.

“
I have
no squeeze.” I comment and Varden gives me a blank expression from
over his shoulder. Seriously what is with these men? Varden returns
his gaze to the road on ahead and I regard his
back—questionably—analyzing for some sign that will indicate his
and Altair’s odd reaction. Altair clears his throat effectively
drawing my attention. “What’s wrong now?” I ask.

“
Nothing.” Now, why do I 
not
 believe that?

“
Okay,
than.” We sit in a clearing by the frozen river, choosing this area
as our camp for the night. Altair and I had handed our cloaks to
Varden who may freeze to death without it. If he is the long lost
Prince of Zylaria we just might to have to go a little bit further
to keep him from the hands of the enemy. The leafless branches
stand out against the white light blue background of snow and ice.
I place my hands over a fire as I ensure it lasts through the
night. Varden is right beside me, with his hands over the fire.
“This should do.”

“
Man. I’d
die without heat out here.” declares Varden.

“
What
about us?” questions Altair as he drops a clutter of fire wood he
carried over his shoulder.

“
Oh yeah
and you guys too.” I roll my eyes. He only just added that because
Altair made him. Varden is really starting to become very
comfortable with us. Varden ends up falling asleep faster than
Altair and I this time we spend our time sitting around the
flickering fire where Varden lies directly opposite us should
anything happen.

“
Look at
him, he’s out cold.” teases Altair as he pokes the burning wood
with a stick of his own. The wood crumbles slowly to ashes while
ember floats away.

“
Leave
him alone.” I say.

“
What
you’re sticking up for him now?”

“
I’m not
sticking up for anyone.” I reply.

We glance
at the frozen forest that stretches away from us to the plains in
the distance with its own gray mountains. “Does that mean you’re on
my side?”

“
I’m on
no one’s side.” I laugh.

“
Sure,
you’re not. I find that hard so to believe.” he says and I push him
with my shoulder where he only moves a bit but other than that is a
sturdy as a rock. That’s how we spent our night, looking over the
distant forest in the east, talking about the future and the past
and what to do if Varden is the long lost prince. “If he is you
know who then we’ll have a real fight on our hands.” Altair had
said before he retired.

The air
is silent as the cool wind swings around us—it is the only noise
other than our horses and their hooves trotting along the snow
covered path. I see my breath and only than realise it. I’m not too
sure how long that has been happening for but it is something that
everyone has in this type of weather. Nefaliem included. The next
town is days away.

I find
myself staring off into space—so much on my mind. Staring off into
a world of my own I had not known then if seconds, minutes or even
hours had passed before Altair stands before me with a forcibly
blanked expression—his very common expression when he is annoyed,
serious or trying to detach himself from me. Why is it always me
they do that to? Surely there’s more to me than disappointment? I
made sure to conceal my mind from Altair before I think. My
betrayal is just that . . . disappointment.

“
Yes.” I
say, stretching out the word in a higher octave.

“
Are you
coming?” I stare at him unsure of how to answer. He sighs, “To
hunt.” I rise from my seat on the ground—silently I begin to follow
Altair on his endeavor to find Varden food, I know now I will go on
a hunt with Altair after Varden has had his feed. The beast within
us is hungry, it has been deprived of its iron long enough. I don’t
blame it, just like everything else we need it and if we are
deficient in our iron we’ll become sick.

Altair
and I venture through the frozen woodlands. Why he would want to
hunt in the season of sleep and death? There will be nothing—well
almost, count the winter tigers, bears and birds. Guess that’s
better than earthworms. The winter mammals migrate further north
when it becomes warmer elsewhere. I don’t blame them—their thick
fur coats will be the death of them. They are also rare. A familiar
sound of snapping twigs calls for attention from behind us and I
drop down beside a boulder. Altair kneels beside me as we watch and
wait for the source of the noise to reveal itself when it doesn’t
Altair and I share a glance of confusion.

We slowly rise
from where we knelt.

Altair
slowly aims his crossbow at the far end of the tree and I pull an
arrow from the quiver on my back. I had borrowed his bow and arrow,
with a catch—that I bring back something for us to eat. I don’t
like leaving him alone in the woods. To quell my fear of him being
killed, I had lent him one of my daggers. We’ll be quick and he’ll
be okay. I repeat like a prayer in my mind. I relax the bow string
and I place my arrow in its quiver.

Nothing.

‘
You heard it, right?’
 questions Altair through our telepathic
link.

‘
I did.’
 We
approach the bend of the tree to find nothing but it cast in frost
and ice. “Looks like nothing.” I say in a whisper and Altair holds
up his hands to silence me. His eyes slowly dart around the trees
and its still branches, I too become on edge. Something didn’t feel
right. The sound of an arrow sores towards me and I roll, pulling
out an arrow, I shoot. Two men fall down Altair over powers them
sending them across the clearing. My momentary distraction is what
caused a man with crooked and missing teeth to punch me, he smiles
at me—greed fills his expression.

I stick
my arrow I never had a chance to string into his stomach. He falls
to the ground. A humanoid-roar calls from the left of me and I spin
stringing the bloodied arrow and fire it at the man’s throat where
he falls back off his feet from the arrows’ force and momentum. I
turn to Altair to see three men at his feet. He drops one with a
thud and strides towards me. “Nice shooting.”

I smile,
feeling slightly flustered at the compliment. “Thanks, I’m a little
rusty though.”

Another snap of
a stick catches our attention.

I string
an arrow and fire, a clang catches my attention. I turn to Altair
who moves towards it. I take aim with another arrow should he be in
trouble but knowing Altair, he’ll cause trouble. Altair is
definitely someone without a doubt who would win in any fight
unless the man is a Kryptonian my reference to Superman many years
ago on Earth. Still I find it funny but comforting, at least he
won’t need my help and I don’t need him doesn’t necessarily mean I
don’t want him around.

“
Please
put down your weapons, I mean no harm!” calls a voice and I see
Vedric rushing out of the tree line. His head ducks down as if
hoping that would throw off our arrows, that’s partly true
though—I’ll just string another. I relax the string and place the
arrow in my quiver and rush over to him.