Chapter 18 #2
Maelis would have none of it. She pushed Elara’s arm aside and stepped forward, her head held high. “How dare you speak such filth! Have you no decency?”
The warrior sneered and shoved Maelis aside with a force that sent her stumbling.
Cries rose at once.
“Stop!”
“Leave her be!”
“Have you lost your wits?”
The warrior seized Elara’s arm in a bruising grip as she reached to help Maelis and yanked her toward him.
Another chorus of screams rose from the healers.
Elara struggled to free herself, her heart pounding, and realizing the futility of her efforts, she screamed, “DAR!”
His hand struck her across the face with brutal force, snapping her head to the side as pain burst as a vision took hold.
The world dissolved. Light flared and suddenly the dark figure appeared before her, reaching out, shaking her finger, warning her to stay away.
“ELARA!”
Dar’s voice tore through the haze like a thunderclap.
The warrior’s grip fell off her as she fell to her knees, the vision fading, leaving a mist behind and out of that mist charged Dar. His fury ignited the air around him as he slammed his fist into the warrior’s jaw with such force the man dropped instantly, collapsing in an unmoving heap.
Gasps echoed through the courtyard. Maelis hurried to Elara, tears streaming down her cheeks, but Dar reached her first, his arm going around her waist to ease her to her feet and tuck her close against him, all the while fighting to control his rage.
Before a word was spoken… the king appeared.
King Dravic swept into the courtyard, his presence chilling the air. His icy-blue gaze went from the fallen warrior to Dar’s rage he had yet to hide, and the red welt on Elara’s cheek.
“DAR,” he thundered, the single word echoing like a blow, “you dare strike one of my warriors?”
“Your warrior struck my wife,” Dar said, not hiding his anger. “What should trouble you more is how a Hunter was able to take one of your elite warriors down so easily.”
Silence fell, deep and dangerous.
“Wake him,” the king shouted, pointing at the unconscious warrior.
Two guards hurried forward, hauling the unconscious warrior upright while a third splashed a bucket of cold water in his face.
He sputtered awake with a violent start, blinking through the stream of water as he struggled to grasp where he was. When he realized the king stood before him, his face drained of all color.
King Dravic’s voice cracked like a whip. “Roth, you succumbed to a Hunter’s punch?”
The warrior tried hard not to show fear, but his body betrayed him with a shiver. “Aye, my king.”
The king pointed to Elara. “You struck that woman?”
Roth nodded rapidly, feeling more confident. “Aye, my king. She possesses evil magic. She had a vision.”
Silence struck as loud as a thunderbolt, not a breath being heard.
“How do you know this, Roth?” the king demanded.
“I heard her say, ‘I saw it,’ after hugging the old woman.”
“And you assumed by overheard words, while hugging an old woman, she had a vision?” the king asked, glaring at the warrior.
Chuckles could be heard at the foolishness of the warrior, though they ceased quickly when the king cast a disapproving look over the crowd.
“Did you question her, ask her what she meant, what others heard?” the king asked, his annoyance growing.
Maelis spoke up. “He heard wrong, my king. I asked Elara if she had seen a healer, a friend of ours, and she told me she saw her.”
“That’s a lie!” Roth shouted. “I heard well enough. She is an evil threat, and I hurried to imprison her, then inform you, my king.”
Murmurs circled throughout the king’s warriors, the Hunters, and the villagers who had gathered.
“Yet you failed,” the king said, calmly, much too calmly and anyone near him stepped away.
“You, an elite warrior of Scotara, failed to defend yourself against a mere Hunter, then you failed to secure a healer who possibly has the power of vision and could prove to be helpful under my command. You failed me. You failed Scotara. Worst of all, you dishonored yourself.” He paused before delivering the final blow.
“You, Roth of the elite guard, are banished from Caerith.”
His head snapped back as if the king had struck him, “Nay. Nay. Please, my king, I beg you. I will do anything to regain my honor. Please, my king.”
“Once he is stripped of his official garments bring him to my solar,” the king ordered.
Roth was dragged away, begging for another chance.
The king pointed at Dar, then Elara. “You two come with me.”
Dar swept her along so fast to follow the king that Elara barely had time to turn to Maelis and say, “All will be well.”
The old woman called out, “Stay safe.”
They were no sooner away from prying eyes and ears that stretched to hear, then the king stopped, bringing them both to an abrupt halt.
“Did you have a vision?” He gave her no time to respond. “And give it thought before you think to lie to me. I have a distinct way of getting the truth from people.”
It was easy to speak truthfully. “Your warrior was correct. I had a vision when I hugged the old healer.”
“So, the old healer lied,” the king accused.
Elara thought quickly and purposely avoided using Maelis’s name. “Nay, she does not know I had a vision. I let no one know and would not have told Dar if he had not seen it himself.”
“Wise woman,” the king said, then his tone turned demanding. “What did you see?”
“I saw my friend reach Birkfell safely and friends greet her with relief.”
“A thoughtful vision that serves me no purpose,” the king complained.
“But it does let you know that your plan goes well and healers return home safely, which helps me as I travel through Leighfeld,” Elara said.
“You think fast,” the king said. “Now use your visions to find what I look for or suffer the consequences.” He turned to Dar. “She is not an easy wife to have. Keep a firm hand on her. And come see me—you alone—before you take your leave.”
He walked off sneering and muttering and Elara wondered how Adira would ever survive such an ill-tempered and demanding man.
Dar’s hand went to Elara’s face to faintly brush the red welt left from the harsh blow. “The warrior deserves to die for touching you.”
The concern in his voice, the gentleness of his touch made Elara think that he more than just cared for her. Something, no doubt she wanted to believe. That everything he did for her was out of… love. A foolish and dangerous thought and one she should not even entertain.
Elara gathered her straying thoughts and said, “I would think death would be a better result for him than being banished from the king’s elite warriors.”
Dar’s eyes narrowed. “It takes extensive training to be part of the king’s elite warriors, and it would take more than a slap to a woman’s face for the king to banish one of them.”
Her brow scrunched. “What do you mean?”
“The king intends to use his warrior in another way, and I have no doubt it has something to do with us.”
Alarmed, Elara asked, “Us? What could he possibly have to do with us?”
“The warrior will be ordered to follow us unnoticed and report back to the king about what he sees.”
“I didn’t think he would trust me, but a Hunter, one who serves him?” She shook her head, finding it difficult to believe.
“The king trusts no one and I cannot say I blame him. He has been burned more than once by people who claimed to be loyal. But enough of this. We leave now before anything else may prevent us from leaving. First, let your friend tend to your face.”
Again, there was concern in his voice. “It is not necessary. The strike was hard, but it left no damage and I am as anxious as you to leave Caerith.”
She took hold of his hand and thought she caught a pleased look in his eyes.
They had taken only a few steps when Dar said, “I am eager to hear about the other vision you had.”
She almost stumbled over her own feet she was so startled that he knew she had another vision.
“I have come to know you well,” he said as if that could explain it.
Perhaps he did know her more than she realized, but then she had come to know him as well or was it that she knew that… “Hunters watch and learn about their prey before they strike.”
To her surprise he grinned.
“So true, which helps when a Hunter weds a woman who is too tenacious for her own good.”
She had always been told how gracious and patient she was, but then she was an herb-scribe and patience was required for such tedious, though interesting work. Never had she been called tenacious and hearing it gave her a strength she hadn’t realized she possessed.
“Too wise,” she corrected with a smile, “or so says the king.”
“Either can prove dangerous, so tread lightly in what direction you take,” he advised. “For now, I look forward to discussing your vision when the opportunity allows.”
That he didn’t demand that she tell him immediately made it easier to say, “Aye, I will tell you about it… and more.”