The Dragon' Son (13 page)

Keegan and Ardor cantered along the forest road quietly. Keegan was glad for the solitude and quiet. It gave him time to think, or not think, whichever he preferred. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The sky was gray and threatened rain, and the wonderful smell of moisture was thick in the air. Suddenly, Ardor raised his head high, halted, and snorted, breaking Keegan away from his thoughts and causing him to open his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Ardor?” he asked, patting the horse’s neck as he cocked his head to listen. He heard a recklessly driven wagon and horse hooves pounding the road ahead of him with a furious voice booming over all the noise, “You flea bitten hay bags! Move, I say!”

This promptly put Keegan on the alert. His gut began to twist, and his hands began to ache. Something was terribly wrong. He leaned forward and hissed to Ardor. Ardor snorted then shot off in a dead run toward the noise, tail held high and hooves kicking up moist turf as he sped along. Soon, the sound became very close, and there was a woman’s scream followed by a loud thud that echoed through the trees.

“Whoa, whoa, you dim-witted horses!” a man shouted.

Keegan and Ardor rounded a bend and saw the source of the noise. They halted and surveyed what was happening. A man in black was on the back of a harnessed horse and was holding its teammate in his right hand. He watched as a beat-up and out of control carriage rolled downhill at high speed. The right side of the carriage bumped over a small log, and a green figure tumbled from the left side just seconds before it went careening into a tree. The figure, a young woman, rolled several feet then lay still.

Keegan was afraid for a moment that the woman wouldn’t move again, and he glared at the reckless man who had caused such a terrible tragedy to happen, fingering his sword hilt as the anger boiled in him. A movement from the woman caught his eye, however, and he watched as she sat up and shook her head. She stood, limped to the wreckage, pulled back a few boards, and looked on the inside. She heaved, like she was going to be sick at the sight she saw, then she backed away from it.

Keegan thought he recognized her at first, but then all familiarity was washed away as he was struck by her appearance. She had a glow about her that made her seem like a creature of fantasy. Her golden hair had a silver shine, like the twinkling of a diamond set in gold, and her slender form, garbed in a green dress, seemed to be a part of the forest. The trees and plants about her welcomed her into their realm.

A warm glow filled Keegan’s chest as he stared at her. He felt it was a dream, that he was looking upon a fair lady from the ancient days, a lady of a forgotten people. He wondered if he was staring at a queen pulled from ancient memories and formed by tales of old.

The man in black growled and kicked the horse he rode, trotting down the hill after the woman, dragging the other horse behind him. The woman saw her enemy coming toward her. She turned on her heel and began to flee through the trees. She ran surprisingly well for someone who had just had a bad spill. She ran like a fleeting doe, Keegan thought.

“Dayspring, have mercy! Save me!” she cried as she ran.

Keegan’s mind began to reel and spin. He squeezed his eyes shut as the words echoed in his mind and a vision of the past began to flash by his mind:
horsemen coming toward the village - Jardon gasping for breath - his father, Barden, asking Dayspring for help.

Keegan opened his eyes in rage. The world around him was dark and red with anger of the past. Flashbacks and visions had always controlled him but not this time. He could not let them have him today. He had to help this woman, and he knew that this man pursuing her was on the side of evil.

Ardor felt the surge of energy flow through Keegan, and he reared with a loud, excited whinny then charged down the hill toward the man in black. Out of the corner of his eye, Keegan saw four other men in black galloping down a slope ahead of the woman. They were going to head her off. He urged Ardor to speed his pace. He had to get to her before they did.

Ardor pinned his ears back and bared his teeth as he galloped up alongside the team and the man in black that drove them on. Keegan let out a battle cry and pulled out his sword. In one swing, he decapitated the man. A fountain of blood sprayed into the air, and the team let out terrified shrieks. They swerved away from Ardor as the dead body fell to the ground. Keegan urged Ardor to follow the fleeing woman. She ran swiftly. Her long, golden locks of hair flowed and bounced behind her like the mane of a horse as she ran. The four other horsemen blocked her way of escape. She stopped and turned to flee another. The men were right behind her.

Keegan wheeled Ardor around and bolted toward her. He was not going to make it to her before the men. He veered away from the young woman and disappeared into the forest.

Erewhon ran through thick, thorny brush that jabbed and clawed at her. She dropped to the ground beside a tree and tried to avoid being punctured. She realized her that dress blended well with the bushes and served as a camouflage, so she lay very still next to the tree, trying to quiet her gasping. Her heart pounded like the hooves of a horse, and she was aware of every sound and movement in the forest. Her hands shook, and she breathed as quietly and slowly as she possibly could, though every breath she took seemed like it was loud enough for a marching army to hear.

Three of the evil men that had chased her galloped into the thick brush then halted and scanned the area. Erewhon pulled in a quick breath and held it before letting it out slowly as she watched every move the men made from her hiding place. She wondered briefly where the other two men had gone. She was certain that there had been at least five of them chasing her.

“Where did she go?” one of the men asked.

“She is hiding in the brush,” one of the others answered as he got down from his horse. “Cut it all down until we find her or flush her out. Listen for her gasping.”

The other two got down from their horses and began hacking away at the bushes with their swords. One of them slowly drew closer and closer to Erewhon’s hiding place.

“This brush has thorns! Are you sure she is here?” he asked as he steadily came closer to her.

Erewhon slowly began to creep around the tree away from him, keeping an eye out for any path of escape, and trying to avoid making any sound at all.

“Oh, she is here. Trust me,” the other said. “Now shut up and watch for her!” he commanded, continuing to hack at the bushes.

The three men were spaced far apart now, and the one continued to draw closer to her. This was her only chance. She jumped up and began to run again, the thorns tearing through her dress and clawing at her skin.

“There she is!” one of the men shouted.

Two of the men started after her on foot while the other jumped on his horse and began to gallop after her. He passed the two men on foot and nearly had her in his arms when a large golden blur burst through the brush and slammed into him, causing his horse to squeal and fall.

A magnificent golden horse reared up with an angry snort, stomping the man in black that had fallen with his horse. The man screamed in horror and pain, capturing the attention of his two comrades. One of them turned to help him, but the other caught him by the arm. “Wait. We have to catch this girl,” he said with a firm face and a nod over his shoulder.

Erewhon screamed, drawing the attention of the two men. The fourth man had appeared and had Erewhon locked in his arms atop his horse. She struggled with him vigorously, clawing, kicking, and wriggling as hard as she could.

“One of you blame fools get over here and help me, and the other help him if you must!” the fourth yelled as he struggled with her.

At that moment, the man whom was being stomped became quiet. The golden horse turned and trotted away, chasing the other three horses.

“That nag is taking our horses!” one of the men yelled. He ran after the horses until a young man jumped out in front of him. Before anyone could react, the young man raised his sword and struck his opponent fatally across the chest. He then charged the man in black, who raised his sword, ready for the attack. The young man prepared for an upper strike. The man in black lifted his sword to parry but was cut off at the knee. Howling in pain, he fell to the ground. The young man finished him off at the neck and turned toward the man atop the horse with Erewhon.

“Let her go,” he hissed.

Instead, the evil man took a better hold of Erewhon and turned his horse to gallop away.

“Ardor! Stop him!” the young man's voice echoed through the trees.

The golden horse jumped in front of the fleeing man and lunged at the other horse with a shriek. The captor’s horse jumped out from under him and Erewhon. They tumbled to the ground together. The man bounced back up to his feet, drew his sword, and grabbed Erewhon by the hair. He yanked her to her feet, setting her scalp to screaming. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and put his cold blade up to her neck, facing the strange young man. “Come another step only if you want the girl dead,” he spat through his teeth.

The young man paused with his bloody blade still raised. Long, brown hair flowed around his fiery eyes. Erewhon thought that she recognized him for a moment, but the fear that crept along her spine and the pain in her head washed away all memories.

“Drop your sword and back away from it,” the man in black said as he jerked his arm tighter around Erewhon’s shoulders making her cringe. The young man hesitated. He looked at Erewhon and stared at her for a long moment. He had intense, blue eyes, and she could tell that he was weighing all his options. He did not want to give in to the man in black, but he did not want to endanger her.

Erewhon cringed again as the man in black pressed his sharp blade up closer to her bare skin, threatening to cut her throat. The young man hesitated no longer. He closed his eyes, dropped his sword, and placed his hands behind his back then took two steps backward.

The man in black sneered and let his sword down from Erewhon’s neck but maintained a firm grip on her shoulders. “What is your name?” he asked the stranger in a snide tone.

“Nothing of consequence to you,” the young man retorted.

Just then, the man in black loosened his grip on Erewhon’s shoulders, giving her the chance she needed to free herself. She elbowed the man in the ribs then pulled away from his weakened grip. She took his arm and twisted it behind him then used his own weight and force against him to flip him onto his back.

The man promptly jumped back up to his feet and reached out for Erewhon with a snarl. There was a sudden thud behind him. His eyes turned gray, and his breath left him as blood spurted from his mouth. He fell at Erewhon’s feet, a knife protruding from his back. He groaned and clawed at the ground weakly for a moment then became still as Erewhon watched the life leave him.

Erewhon looked up in shock to see the young man still in the position of throwing a knife. He relaxed, picked up his sword, wiped it on the ground, and sheathed it. Then he walked over and pulled the dagger out of the man’s body. She closed her eyes and turned her head away. Her stomach began to churn, and her body started to sweat and feel weak as her head became light. She had never seen a human being die, much less with a knife in his back.

The young man bent down and cleaned his knife on the ground then stood and whistled a wonderful, charming whistle into the trees. A whinny answered the whistle, and the beautiful, golden horse came through the trees toward them. The horse trotted up to the young man and put its soft nose in his hand. “Thank you, Ardor. Well done,” his owner whispered. The horse bobbed his head up and down and curled his neck in a proud way.

Erewhon was too stunned to say anything. She was in awe of the horse and his owner, she was surprised they had come to her rescue, and she was shocked that she now recognized them. She had seen them before.

The young man turned to her and bowed slightly. “May I know your name, my lady?” he asked politely.

Erewhon opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Everything had happened so fast. She didn’t know what to say. She could barely even remember her own name right now, and she felt like she was going to be sick. A hot tear came to her right eye, and she closed her mouth as harsh embarrassment washed over her, upsetting her stomach all the more.

The young man sighed then brought his horse up beside her. “Allow me to help you onto Ardor, and I will take you to a stream to wash your face,” he said kindly. He gently took her by the arm and brought her closer to his horse.