| |
Gennavieve’s heart slowed as the day wore on and the pain on her arm eased. She hated that cursed bracelet with a growing passion. The Demon had set a near impossible time constraint and then punished her if they fell behind. The unfairness rankled her, even as she laughed inwardly at the idea that a demon would be fair.
Drago passed her food from the saddle bags before she could even ask for it. Eating while being jostled along on the black unicorn’s back wasn’t comfortable, but at least she was able to satisfy her growing hunger.
They slowed to pass through a particularly rocky area and something pricked Genna’s memory. “Who is Alyssa?” she asked the Warrior.
His grip on her waist tightened. “Why?”
She repeated the name. “You talked in your sleep last night.”
He did not answer right away, in fact he took so long to reply that Genna became convinced he was going to refuse to say anything. She had a snippy reply on her tongue when she heard his voice rumble through his chest.
“I was supposed to marry Alyssa.”
Genna hadn’t expected that. “What happened?”
Another long pause. “I entered the dar-King’s service instead.”
She twisted in his arms. “But why would you do that?”
Dark eyes pierced her. “My reasons are my own, Maiden.” He shook her. “Now hush.”
“I’m just trying to make conversation,” she grumbled.
Drago shook her again. “What is wrong with you, wench?” he demanded.
“What’s wrong with you?” Genna twisted to glare at him. “We ride essentially in silence for days on end. In the last two days, we’ve shared only a handful of words between us. Is there some sort of rule of the Demon’s service that you cannot talk to me? You’re the only other person around here to talk to!”
He stopped Lagos with a sharp jerk of the reins and turned her in his lap, gripping her arms with his hands. “What do you think this is, woman? We are not friends who share confidences! Have you any idea what fate awaits you? My master will drain you of your pure soul and then cast your used carcass aside like trash.” He shook her again. “Don’t you understand? There is no hope of survival. You are his gate to the City of Light. Once he consumes your soul, even your precious Barrier cannot stop him.”
Tears streamed down Genna’s cheeks. She knew, or at least had an idea, of what her fate would be, but to have him pronounce it so bluntly brought back every ounce of fear she’d felt while waiting for him to come for her that dreadful night. What had she done? Had she sacrificed her life to save her sister only to lose Aisilyn when the demon invaded the City?
What else could she have done? Stand aside and watch her sister leave with the Dark Warrior? Challenged Drago in her sister’s bedroom? No, then she’d only be dead and Aisilyn would be in her place, having her teeth shaken loose by an angry servant of the demon. Except Aisilyn would probably never have argued with him.
She hung her head. “I know. But if these are going to be my last days, can’t you show me some simple human kindness? Wouldn’t that be easier than leaving me to dwell on the hopelessness of my situation? Or have you been in the Demon’s service so long that you can’t remember how to be human?”
He growled and spun her back around, slamming her back into his chest as he urged the unicorn into a trot. After a long moment, Genna sighed. He wouldn’t speak to her. Perhaps she expected too much. Perhaps conversation with her was too much for the demon’s Dark Warrior to handle.
That thought brought a wicked little grin to her face. The idea that she was too much for him was so ludicrous it made her want to laugh.
The extended silence and lack of interesting scenery made her thoughts wander. Naturally she thought of home. Aisilyn would be Jacob’s wife by now, if they took her advice. Genna hoped they had, she’d begged them in her note to marry as soon as possible to protect Aisilyn from the demon once and for all. She prayed they’d heeded her. Even Drago’s dire warning that her sacrifice would open the Barrier to the demon must not shake her faith that she’d done the right thing. Maybe, somehow, Aisilyn and Jacob would be safe.
“The dar-King chose Alyssa for his bride,” Drago said. His voice startled Genna, for she had resigned herself to the silence.
“His bride? But A—I am supposed to be his bride.”
“The Lord of Darkness has existed for hundreds of years,” he responded. “He has had many, many brides.”
“Oh.” Genna took a moment to process this. “So he chose Alyssa to be his bride and you entered his service instead?” It hit her then, what he must have done. “You traded your life for hers.”
“I offered him servitude if he would spare her.” He grunted. “I was a fool.”
She gripped his arm. “You were heroic.”
Drago snorted. “You and your simplistic views. I knew nothing about bargaining with the master of all deceptions. I thought my service would end after a hundred years, but he proved far too cunning.”
“How long have you been in his service?” Genna asked in a whisper.
“Three hundred years.”
She gasped. “But, how?”
“Another of his gifts, unnaturally long life,” Drago responded. “I will serve him until I die.”
“And he has extended your life.” She shuddered, pondering the depth of deception the demon used. “You will never be free of him.”
He sighed. “If I betray him, then I die. If I defy him, then I die. Sometimes I wonder if it would be worth it.”
Genna let the silence grow as she considered his words. “What happened to Alyssa?”
“At the end of the one hundred years of protection I’d bought my village, the demon sent me there to destroy it.” Drago sighed again. “By then, Alyssa had died of old age, a great grandmother, but in the demon’s service, I laid waste to her descendents and everyone else.”
A shiver of revulsion ran through her, but rather than being repulsed by his actions she felt only sympathy for him. Hadn’t he essentially done what she’d done? In his efforts to save one woman, he’d fallen into the demon’s trap and it had cost the entire village their lives.
No, she couldn’t fault Drago for his intentions. He couldn’t know what the demon’s true price would have been.
“I’m sorry,” she said then. “Does your master always send you to retrieve his brides?”
“No. I had to bring you from the City because of the Barrier, but he prefers to claim his own brides.” He shifted in the saddle behind her. “I think he rather enjoys the panic it causes when he arrives to claim a maiden.”
“I never considered that there were other women,” she admitted. “What happened to them?”
“He has used their purity to build himself a threshold of resistance to items such as your City’s Barrier,” he explained. “Most of the time the process destroys the woman and she is released from her misery, but sometimes rather than destroying her, it changes her and creates a type of monster. Some of them still dwell below with the demon’s other minions, in abject misery.”
Genna forced herself to ask past the lump in her throat. “What happens if the demon takes the wrong maiden?”
He chuckled. “Since he usually chooses them himself, that is unlikely to be an issue.”
She pressed on. “But in my case, for instance. What if someone had taken my place?”
She could feel his tension and wondered if she’d gone too far and made him suspect her. It surprised her when he answered her question with a question of his own.
“Do you know how the demon came to be?” His voice was soft, low, and close to her ear.
She shivered, though not unpleasantly. “I know of the legend,” she said. “At least, I know what is in our history books. A thousand years ago, our two moons eclipsed the sun in midday. The sky turned blood red, and evil was unleashed on the world.”
“And he has spent all of those thousand years weakening and destroying all righteous cities,” he continued.
“What other cities?” she asked.
“Your City’s history is incomplete,” Drago told her. “The Barrier protects your people from evil, certainly, but also from the truth. If you still had explorers, then perhaps you would know of those other societies.”
“What do you know of them?”
“I have learned much in his service, seen him exploit the weaknesses and vanities of individuals in ways that bring about the downfall of entire civilizations.” Drago laughed without humor. “Evil is within us all, Maiden, and even the slightest seed of deceit is enough to let the Father of Lies into one’s heart.”
Genna wanted to protest, to say that not everyone had the ability to deceive, but then she thought of her own lies and her mouth snapped shut. “Ais . . . my sister is utterly without evil. I know it.”
“But others in your precious City are not.”
She nodded in understanding, thinking of some acquaintances she’d had. “Others might be vulnerable.”
“Consider what would happen to that Barrier of yours if the people in the City fell into the demon’s power.”
“The Barrier would weaken,” she surmised. “Evil would gain a foothold inside the City.”
“And the City would fall.” He sighed across the top of her head. “It is how the dar-King extends his territory. It is what has enabled him to destroy countless civilizations during his reign.”
Genna huffed. “You make it sound as though resistance to evil is impossible, as if there is no escape so we may as well submit. I can’t believe that. I know there is more power in this world than just evil.”
“You are a believer.” He said it as though the taste of the words soured his tongue.
She drew herself up taller. “I am, and you will not sway my belief in God. I know He will deliver us from all evil.”
“He may be able to eventually deliver His people from my master, but it will be too late for you and me.”
His gloomy pronouncement silenced her once again.
Lagos had much more stamina than any horse Genna had met. They rode well into the night until Drago stopped near an outcropping of rocks and helped her off the unicorn’s back.
“We won’t stay long,” he told her. “But we need a few hours of rest.”
The pain in Genna’s wrist had eased to a dull ache, and she nodded. He stepped away from her to tend to Lagos and she walked to a boulder and leaned against it, stumbling over a stone in the darkness. She’d never been so tired in her life and her muscles screamed in protest. The only thing louder than her pained body was her empty stomach.
She dozed upright until Drago tossed her a bedroll. Genna made quick work of preparing it, eager to sleep. She tucked her arm under her head and fell into a deep slumber moments later.
He shook her awake just as the predawn light started to fill the sky. “Wake up, Maiden. We have to move.”
Genna sat up and winced as pain from her wrist shot up her arm. Drago looked at her and frowned.
“I’m sorry,” she said, defensive. “It’s tender.”
He knelt next to her and took her hand. “Let me see it.”
Warmth washed over Genna at his touch. She could feel callouses on his palm, knew they were from a long life of riding and fighting. He gently turned her wrist and examined where the bracelet had rested. Genna saw the raw, red flesh and winced.
Drago squeezed her hand and released it. “Give me a moment.” He rose and walked to Lagos to dig through his saddle bags.
Genna didn’t move. Her sleepy eyes drifted shut again, but she startled when he touched her arm.
His eyes showed amusement. “You should probably stay awake for this, Maiden.”
Genna hardly breathed as he took her arm and rested it in his lap. The humor in his eyes warmed her almost as much as his touch. What a complex man!
Drago moistened a strip of white cloth, then applied a foul smelling salve from a jar to it and wrapped it around her wrist, using his fingers to work it between the Demon’s hated bracelet and her skin. Genna watched his fingers work, marveling at how gently he treated her. She remembered tending him at the oasis, how she’d worked to cool his feverish skin. How his muscles rippled even as he breathed.
She studied his face to distract her errant thoughts, but realized the mistake immediately. Drago’s thick, dark lashes fanned his cheeks as he looked down at his work. His firm jaw, rough with days’ worth of stubble. His lips, set firm and determined. She wondered how it would feel if he kissed her.
Genna started, jolting her arm. She quickly schooled her features as he looked up at her.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, a thread of concern in his voice.
Frantically, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I must have dozed again.”
He looked back down at her arm and Genna sighed. What was she thinking? Even if he had the capability for tenderness, he was the Demon’s servant! She had no business daydreaming about kissing him! About feeling his strong arms wrap around her body—about running her fingers through his thick hair. About feeling the stubble of his beard under her fingers.
Genna dropped her head, shamed. She was a daughter of Light! It didn’t matter that he showed her gentleness now, soon enough he would hand her over to his master and go back to destroying villages and doing other horrible things that served the Demon.
Drago released her and stood, then helped her to her feet. “That should ease the discomfort,” he told her, collecting his jar of salve. “We must go now.”
“Thank you,” she said to his back as he turned away.
He stopped, then looked back at her. “You’re welcome, Maiden.”
Genna bent to collect and tie the bedroll, and said a quick prayer of forgiveness. She needed to remember who she was, and, more importantly, who Drago was and who he served. She blamed her exhaustion for her weakness. It would be beyond foolish to develop feelings for the Dark Warrior.