The Harbinger (A Fight for Light Novel Book 2) (9 page)

In the shining sun and unbearable heat, I could only imagine how awful it must have been wearing an additional fifteen pounds of armor on your body. Slowly, it began to take its toll. Both men took off their helmets and threw them to the side. Sweat drenched their hair, and yet their bodies moved with a fluid grace that belied the oppressive air around them. Loud clanking filled the air as the audience watched in awe. None could deny their strength and level of skill.

Seasnan stumbled, as I knew he eventually would, and Kellen saw his chance. He pushed forward, steadily attacking, giving no reprieve. In a final thrust, Seasnan fell to the ground with a thud and stayed. He bowed his head in defeat. Kellen sheathed his sword and nodded. He was victor.

The roar of the crowd blotted out every sound. I applauded, almost jumping up and down in happiness. I was so proud. Kellen approached the box and fell on one knee before me. His chest heaved with exertion, dirt and sweat streaking his face. I had never seen him look more handsome.

I tossed the rose back to him and he caught it, pressing it to his lips and then his heart. I heard the sigh of several women behind me. What a romantic gesture.

The rest of the contests commenced, one after another. A Guardian won the spear throwing contest. Another noble won the fencing competition, barely beating Kellen for the win. All three men, Seasnan, Kellen, and Tristan made it into the final ten of every group. The last event of the day, the dual wield with shield, was set to begin.

It had been a long morning and afternoon. I could only imagine the toll it was taking on the contestants. The heat and never ending sun beat down on the crowd. The men emerged, paired off in groups of two again but in teams of four.

Unlike the longsword competition, any manner of weapon could be used as the chosen weapon. Tristan held a mace. Seasnan was carrying a war hammer. Only Kellen still held a broadsword, different from the longsword of earlier. He was a skilled and dedicated swordsman. I was not surprised at his choice.

I found this particular competition the most dangerous, the most deadly, and the most engaging to watch. With fascination I realized wielding these different weapons required a different level of skill, which combined with the added weight of a shield, provided an entirely different method of advance and attack. It was a delicate balance. Each man must block with the shield while trying to take out his opponent with his weapon of choice.

The teams of four were eventually broken down to groups of two. Again, the Guardians outshined the peasant and noble competitors. I could only assume they were used to the practice and combat and therefore gained the advantage. Down to a group of twelve, all three men remained. One by one, they were defeated until Kellen was left in a match with another noble, and a favorite of the crowd as well.

They fought bravely, each highly skilled, but no man was a match with Kellen and his sword. It quickly became obvious. The other noble bowed to Kellen in defeat. They shook hands heartily, much to the joy of the crowd. Kellen turned to the throng who roared their support and shouted his name.

Kellen approached the box again, and this time I saw the fatigue etched in his face. He was near exhaustion but proudly stood erect, bowing briefly to me, a broad grin on his weary face. I pulled the scarf from my body slowly and stood, dangling it from the box. He strode forward but instead of grabbing it, stood still and awaited me. I smiled. With great care I wound it around his neck and leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

As I leaned back the suddenly silent crowd exploded in applause. Kellen was the clear victor today. Fame and glory would accompany him. Although I was sure he had earned a good deal of that on his own in the Guardian army, today proved his skill and prowess.

Goblets and mugs were raised in the air, toasts to his health were numerous. The people continued to shout, chanting his name. His broad grin outshined everything but the look of love shining in his eyes.

And so the first day of the competition ended.

It was over an hour before I saw Kellen. A large banquet had been erected under several tents, stretched across dozens of tables, laden with food and spirits. Rows of picnic tables filled every tent, already full to bursting. In the center tent, the biggest of the three, was a raised dais that had been erected for the most prominent nobles and their families.

Mairwen, Kayleigh, and I entered the tent and were escorted to the dais where I was seated front and center among the group. I saved a seat for Kellen next to me. To my left Kayleigh saved one for Tristan and Seasnan. To my right sat Kedehern and Mairwen. The rest of the seats were quickly filled.

Ralen entered the tent with his troupe. His eyes scanned the tent and found me instantly. He did cartwheels all the way down the aisle until he reached me, breathless, his cheeks flushed, and his thick mop of unruly brown curls peeking beneath his jester’s hat.

I clapped enthusiastically as he bowed. Kayleigh stood and introduced us. “Your majesty may I introduce Sir Ralen. Sir Ralen, her majesty, the lady Rhiannon.”

He bowed again. “Rise, Sir Ralen. Have you come to entertain tonight?” I asked, smiling widely.

“Oh yes, your grace, with your permission. I should like to sing for you.” His eyes lingered on my face and he blushed.

He looked young but that meant nothing here. Age was but a number. I nodded. Ralen pulled up a stool and placed a lute in his arms. He sang one of my all-time favorites by Daniel O’Donnell.

“Oh my lovely rose of Clare, you’re the sweetest girl I know.

You’re the queen of all the roses, like the pretty flowers that grow.

You are the sunshine of my life so beautiful and fair

And I will always love you my lovely rose of Clare.

Oh the sun it shines out like a jewel on the lovely hills of Clare.

As I strolled along with my sweet lass one evening at the fair.

Her eyes they shone like silver streams her long and golden hair,

For I have won the heart of one my lovely rose of Clare.

Oh my lovely rose of Clare, you’re the sweetest girl I know.

You’re the queen of all the roses, like the pretty flowers that grow.

You are the sunshine of my life so beautiful and fair

And I will always love you my lovely rose of Clare.

As we walked down by the river bank watched the Shannon flowing by

And listened to the nightingale singing songs for you and I,

And to say farewell to all you true and fair,

For I have stolen the heart of one my lovely rose of Clare.”

I stood and clapped, tears in my eyes. That song always moved me. Ralen bowed and began another. This one by King Henry VIII.

“Pastime with good company

I love and shall unto I die;

Grudge who list, but none deny,

So God be pleased thus live will I.

For my pastance

Hunt, sing, and dance.

My heart is set:

All goodly sport

For my comfort,

Who shall me let?

Youth must have some dalliance,

Of good or illé some pastance;

Company methinks then best

All thoughts and fancies to dejest:

For idleness

Is chief mistress

Of vices all.

Then who can say

But mirth and play

Is best of all?

Company with honesty

Is virtue vices to flee:

Company is good and ill

But every man hath his free will.

The best ensue,

The worst eschew,

My mind shall be:

Virtue to use,

Vice to refuse,

Shall I use me.”

The entire throng stood and applauded, myself included. This was a favorite of everyone in the room. Ralen was wonderful. He picked up the lute again when Kellen, Tristan, Seasnan, and the other competitors entered the tent. Raucous applause, shouts of congratulations, well wishes, and slaps on the back filled the room. Tankards and glasses were raised. The toasts lasted so long I thought Kellen would never make his way to me.

He finally emerged, bowing slightly before me, and then raising my hand to his lips. I smiled.

“Well done.”

He grinned. “I’m starving. Shall we dine?”

He pushed in my chair and sat next to me, reaching for the roasted boar and bread with gusto. I could only imagine how hungry he was. At any normal time he had a large appetite but today he must be famished. I picked at my food having little appetite myself from the heat and excitement. I sipped wine in my goblet and watched him with humor. I think he ate for thirty minutes without a pause.

The celebration lasted long into the night. We retired early, amid applause from the crowd, and entered the inn. Kayleigh and I left the men at our doorway knowing once it was late enough they would exchange places. We talked for an hour, excited from the day’s festivities, and readied for bed.

At ten Kellen knocked on the door and slipped inside, grinning at his sister. “I wanted to come in sooner but I figured you both wanted a few minutes to relax.”

She jumped up and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Sure, see you in the morning.”

She winked at me and left, closing the door silently behind her.

Kellen was already undressed down to a loose fitting shirt that gaped at his neck, exposing a good portion of his muscled chest, and black pants. He surprised me when he pounced on the bed and pulled me close, his mouth descending on mine, practically crushing me against him.

His kisses continued for several long minutes, until finally, breathless, he pulled back. One hand raised and cupped my cheek, while the other held me close, lingering against my lower back.

“I missed you. It’s been a long day,” he whispered, the fatigue showing on his features.

“I missed you too. You need to rest,” I told him, brushing a stray lock of hair from his eyes, “I can see how tired you are.”

He was about to argue when I laughed and lay my head on his shoulder. “Sleep Kellen.”

He mumbled a reply but his light snores were vibrating his chest only seconds later.

The festivities started early the next day with the equestrian competition. Men on horseback rode through a maze of obstacles and wooden opponents, striking blows and trying to complete the course in the fastest time. There was a horseback race. And then the archery competition commenced. It was engaging to watch and cheer the competitors on. If I was betting, all of my money would be on Tristan. The crowd obviously knew this. They cheered him on from the onset.

One moment I was sitting there, smiling, and watching the archers, and the next I was being thrown to the ground. The sound of something whizzing in the air drew my attention, accompanied by a whoosh, then the thud of my body as it was cradled in a pair of strong arms, and then screams, so many screams, filled my ears in a deafening explosion.

Arrows. Multiple arrows. Penetrating the wooden box and piercing the seats above me.

I gasped.

Stunned, I gazed at the figure cloaked all in black that held me, immobile, against a hard muscled chest. A man had rescued me. I had no idea who he was. He was wearing a bandana that obscured most of his face but black eyes, deep and intense, like the ebony darkness of night, held mine.

I did not move. I did not yell. The only thing I could do was stare, confused by his swift intervention and the fact that he continued to hold me, even when he should have let go.

“Don’t move. It’s not safe,” his deep masculine voice answered the question in my head.

“I’m scared,” I whispered. I don’t know why I said that. He was a complete stranger.

“You are well protected milady. Have no fear,” he assured me, totally sincere.

I heard someone calling my name. It sounded like Kellen. Before I could reply the stranger pulled me up, bending his tall muscular body around mine, crouching, shielding me from more arrows as they zinged past, and led me away from the massive throng of people. Some were panicking, some were yelling, others were scattered along the field. It was chaos.

The stranger ushered me away, still protecting me, until we were hidden in the trees and entered a secluded path. He did not slow down until we entered a hidden cave. I don’t know why I let him continue to lead me away. All I knew was that if he intended to harm me, he never would have saved me in the first place.

We paused in the dark and he lit a match and then took my hand, leading me farther away inside the cave, until we rested at a small campsite. He lit a fire and set to work, roasting meat and potatoes over the open flames, which caught me totally by surprise. I watched him warily, sitting on the hard ground.

For the first time I noticed my trembling hands. My heart was racing in my chest as I looked at them like they were not my own fingers. I clenched them in my lap, hoping he would not realize it too.

“You are in shock. The trembling will subside.” He spoke without looking at me. It made me wonder how he knew but I supposed he was much more observant that he let on.

“I…thank you,” I answered, “for saving me.”

He grunted a response but I thought I caught a smile behind the bandana. I continued to observe him, curious about who he was and why he had saved me.

“Who are you?” I finally asked.

“A friend.” No other response.

“How long are you going to keep me here?”

“Until I am assured that it is safe.” I sensed a vague amount of frustration.

“How will you know if you are here with me?” I wondered aloud.

I caught a low chuckle. “Always so curious.” He seemed amused. “My men will secure the area and return once it safe enough to return you to…your
friends
.”

I arched an eyebrow. He said the word with sarcasm. “Is there something I should know?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Stop being vague and irritating. Speak clearly,” I ordered.

He threw back his head and laughed. “I am not one of your subjects to order around princess.”

His response made me scowl. Frustrating arrogant man. What was his problem?

“I see.” I glared at him.

“So proud. So haughty.” He leaned forward, one arm resting on his knee. “But not entirely sure of yourself, are you?”

I narrowed my eyes, completely taken aback. Why did the most arrogant man in the world rescue me? And why was I here?

I turned my body away from him, both irritated and slightly hurt by his comment. Was I that obvious? My uncertainty and naivety? Perhaps. But I thought he was a little too cocky to say anything in response.

I felt his eyes on my back as I lowered my head and rest it on my knees. Tears filled my eyes. It was not the stranger that made me emotional but the idea that I had been attacked. Who made the attempt on my life? Who sent the arrows? Why?

For some reason I had thought that crossing the portal with Kellen, staying with his family, and leaving the demon attack behind me, that I was safe. Apparently not. I sniffled.

“Are you all right?” The voice was closer behind me.

“I’m fine,” I answered, a little too quickly.

I expected him to laugh, make a sarcastic comment, or something similar but he said nothing. I could feel him close behind me. After about thirty seconds he placed a hand against my back.

“Milady…” I raised my head and looked into his eyes. “I am sorry.”

I wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. His words? His attitude? The attack?

He must have noticed my tears. I blinked, one falling slowly down my cheek. I saw his eyes widen and then narrow. “Forgive my harsh treatment. I only seek to keep you safe.”

“It’s not you,” I told him truthfully, “it’s another attempt on my life.”

He seemed surprised. “Are you not protected? Is your Guardian failing in his duty?” The way he said the word Guardian left little doubt in my mind that he thought Kellen was not capable. What did he have against the Guardian army?

“No, he saved my life, more than once.”

He held my gaze for several minutes. I wasn’t sure if he doubted my response or simply did not want to discuss it further.

“You need to eat something.”

His abrupt change of subject made me frown. I watched him stand, remove meat from the fire, and prepare a plate for me. He motioned for me to come sit next to him, and I did, but before I took it from him I wanted to know something specific.

“Why did you help me?” He refused to meet my gaze. “Why did you save me?”

I would not be ignored. In front of him I knelt, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Why?”

“Do not ask questions to answers you do not want to hear.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Don’t do that. Don’t refuse to answer.”

I observed him while I waited for him to answer. He was dark and swarthy, like a pirate. Tall, at least six foot four or five, maybe more. Long lean limbs and a muscular physique. Dark brown hair that hinted at loose waves, or just a thick amount, under the raised hood of his ebony cloak. Dark eyes that bore an intelligence and surety that intrigued me but creased with humor now and then. So much conveyed in his eyes, a depth of feeling I could never hope to understand.

His floor length cloak was really more of a trench coat. Under it he wore a white shirt that gaped at the neck. Black hair appeared above the expensive material on his chest. He wore a black leather vest, black pants, and tall knee length black leather boots. His gun belt held his pistols at his sides while thin leather straps wrapped around his strong muscular upper thighs held blades sharper than I had ever seen. A metal scabbard held a long tapered blade like a katana on his right. He was well armed and dangerous.

A mercenary perhaps.

“Why?” I persisted, not letting him refuse to answer.

He raised his hands and placed them on my shoulders. “Milady…there are forces at play that you do not yet understand.” He was watching my face intently.

“Then explain. Help me understand,” I begged.

“It is not my place. Not today,” he admitted, “but time will clear all of your questions.”

I shook my head. “I’ve no time for riddles. The demons and the enemy that hunts me will not wait long to attack again.”

He gripped my shoulders tighter. “What demon? Tell me what you speak of,” he demanded.

“I was attacked several times. A witch and werewolves…but that was after the demon Minotaur…” I trailed off, concerned at his angry expression.

“Where was this? When?”

“My home, the forest…by my house,” I whispered. Something in his visage made me afraid.

“When?” He asked again.

“It’s been happening the last few months but the last attack,” I looked away and could not meet his gaze as my voice broke, “the demon took the form of my dead grandfather…”

A sob broke from my chest. It was still so raw. So painful. Speaking of it let the agony surface again and I tried to turn away from him. He pulled me into his chest, one arm around my back, and the other hand cradling my head against him, as one would a small child. His strength made me feel safe. It was unorthodox to be sure, but something about him made me want to open up and trust him.

“I am sorry, milady…Rhiannon,” his deep sultry voice caressed my name when he said it, “loss like that is never easy. The heart never quite recovers.”

I knew when he spoke those words, so resolute, with a hint of personal agony, that he knew exactly how I felt in that moment. “Have you lost someone you love?” I dared to ask, even when I knew he would not answer such a personal and informative question.

He surprised me. “Yes.” I heard the catch in his voice. It was minimal but unmistakable.

In the silence that followed I heard his heart rate pick up. “I am sorry for your loss.”

My whispered words had a strange effect on him. He released me, standing quickly, turning his back, and hiding his face. Even with the bandana I noticed the raw emotion in his eyes that surfaced before his stiff back and stoic demeanor returned.

Still on my knees, I turned and sat down on the earth, my hand pushing the plate aside. My stomach rumbled in protest but I had no appetite. Too much emotion, confusion, and uncertainty lingered in my thoughts. With my finger I began to trace a shape in the soft dirt. At first I did not realize what I had done and then, jolting myself back to awareness, my gaze landed on the shape.

An infinity symbol.

The same my Gramps used to draw.

With a gasp and a small cry I jumped to my feet. I felt his eyes on me, this somewhat stranger who had rescued me, but I did not acknowledge him. His eyes followed my gaze until he saw the shape in the dirt. I kicked at it with my shoe and erased it, smoothing the dirt back, and walked away, needing to leave this confined space and the painful memories that filled it.

I suddenly ran, into the dark, stumbling on the uneven ground, bumping into the solid walls, all in an effort to forget. Forget the demon. Forget my dead grandfather. Forget the pain. Even forget the attack from an hour ago.

Up ahead was a dim light. I ran toward it, bursting into a large cavern, and gasped. All around me, floor to ceiling, were hundreds of blue glowing rocks. It was like the stars and constellations framed by the moon in the dead of night, only more mysterious, and beautifully eerie.

I spun around in a circle, three hundred sixty five degrees, and from every angle the blue algae glowed, clinging to the rocks, in some spots heavier and cloistered together, and in others sparse but equally stunning.

I smiled.

“Don’t touch them,” a voice whispered behind me. Right behind me. Close enough that I could feel his heated breath on the back of my bare neck. “The algae are poisonous.”

I did not answer. Words seemed wrong in this amazing silent place. I stayed where I was, watching, for long minutes that continued to stretch by, unending, one after another.

A wet plop fell to the ground next to me. Then another. I lifted my hand, palm side up, as a clear drop of liquid splashed in the center. My hand trembled.

I am unsure why, but my rescuer lifted his hand, placing it under my own, and steadied it. His other hand rested against my waist, gently, only the hint of pressure as it stayed, determined and fixated. Neither of us moved. I cannot be sure but I thought I heard him inhale, more than once, the fragrance of my hair and skin.

I slowly turned, facing him, as a hundred questions formed on my lips. His hand held mine even tighter and the other refused to break its place, remaining on my waist. Taking a deep breath I let my eyes raise from the wide and muscular body in front of me and meet his intense, focused gaze. “What is your name?”

Standing here, like this, so close and intimate, felt wrong without knowing who he was.

“I dare not say.” He refused me.

“Please,” I whispered, “I must know.”

“Why?” Amusement danced at the corners of his eyes. His mouth lifted in a smirk.

“In case I want to thank you properly,” I answered with mild sarcasm.

He tilted his head back and laughed. “Do you want to see me again milady?”