Warden
Lady Ryle is a formidable female. Any female able to keep house and keep order at a tavern serving, in the main, Reivers, and the occasional Redcap horde, is one you do not underestimate.
It means, as we take the coastal path northwards, I can’t help but continue to gaze at her. The long dress she wears flows in the sea breeze, undulating like the waves on the water, her incredible hair in complete harmony, the sword at her side glinting in the light.
She might not need me to protect her, but I will do so. After all, I am the immortal one. My lady should never have to lift a finger in anger.
She should never have to lift a finger at all. Once I have dealt with the Thegn, she will never have to do anything she doesn’t want to, and I will given her both this world and all the worlds the Yeavering contains.
“You’re very quiet,” Hazel says, looking back at me and being consumed by her hair, which she pushes out of her face.
“I am marvelling at how beautiful you are,” I say, truthfully.
“Oh.”
I capture her in my arms, shifting into my Brag form and swinging my stunning mate onto my back.
“You are as beautiful as the sunset, as pretty as the morning dew sprinkled across the grass, as stunning as a waterfall, my Hazel,” I continue.
“No one has ever called me beautiful before.”
“Then the entire worlds are fools.” I laugh.
I feel her laughing too as I run on, taking a path away from the sea and inland towards the Barghest’s stronghold.
I will have to explain myself to the annoying creature, but he has the one weapon I need to deal with the Thegn, and I am going to have a fight getting him to give it up.
Reavely is many things: a good fighter, a somewhat terrifying comrade, and a fierce protector of his own. Asking him for the Raylees amulet is not going to amuse him at all.
As the morning turns into the afternoon, Reavely’s castle comes into sight, set up on a bluff above a winding wide river. Hazel straightens on my back.
“What is it, my mate?” I query.
“I feel…as if I’ve been here before,” she says. “But I think I’d remember.”
She is silent once more. I walk down to the ford and stride into the icy water. It comes up above my hocks, but the way has been well trodden and recently cleared of stones, so it is easy enough of a passage.
At least until we reach the other side, where we are greeted by a chorus of growls and snarls. Two Barghest, in their wolf forms, creep towards us from behind a large boulder, their lips peeled back from their sharp white teeth.
I roll my eyes at this greeting. Like these two pups are any threat to anyone. One of them is hardly away from his mother’s teat.
“I’m here to see Reavely.” I stride past, lifting each hoof so they can see my shoes. “Inform your king the Brag is here.”
“Halt,” the slightly older one says, jumping in front of me and making my Hazel flinch.
I feel anger rising within me. “No.”
I trot on. The younger snaps at my heels.
“I am warning you. If you want your blood spilt, you’ll continue. If you want to be able to eat solid food, then you’ll go and tell Reavely I’m here.”
“Stupid Brag,” the younger snarls. “You’re just a trickster. We will not be bothering the king with your demands.”
“Oh dear.” I come to a halt. “If you will forgive me, my sweet mate.” I turn to Hazel. “I need to teach these young pups a thing or two about monsters.”
I strike out with my rear left hoof and send the first wolf spiralling through the air until he lands with a soggy plop in the river. He howls as he is taken downstream by the current. The second comes in to bite me, but I lift my hoof and put it down on his head.
“Don’t hurt him!” Hazel leans over my side to gaze at the Barghest.
“I will not. He merely needs to learn who to attack and who to respect.” I bend to look at the pup. “Do you know who to respect?”
“Yes, Brag. You,” he says, his voice muffled.
“I’m going to release you. Go and tell Reavely that Warden is here to see him, and don’t get distracted on the way,” I say, pushing down a little harder, but not enough so Hazel might see.
“Yes,” he responds.
“Yes, Warden,” I suggest.
“Yes, Warden,” he repeats.
I lift my hoof and he scampers away.
“Barghests.” I shake my head. “I preferred it when they were ghosts.”