The Conjured and the exiles

Darcia sat upon his tall dark courser Per in the courtyard, they stood so still that they could have been an equestrian statue as Darcia awaited the last of the party to finally arrive. It was to be a small group, a group for his pleasure, just some of his captains, Avis, and Daen. Today they wore no armor; only knee length black coats decorated with some silver binding, long black boots, rich fur cloaks, and hats. He did not need to wait long as Daen the last to arrive skipped down the stairs the long split skirt of her riding habit gathered in one hand. She had finally given in to His insistence that she show some propriety. Daen still refused to give in to his insistence that she ride sidesaddle, but the riding habit was a compromise. And this particular garment was a striking robin breast red instead of her usual forest green.

‘Daen I didn’t think you went in for fashion much?’ Veione ventured mounted on his dun as she walked past him heading for Thuharu.

She peeped up at them from under a veil of dark netting. ‘Oh this!’ She indicated to her colorful habit. ‘I couldn’t find my usual habits, I expect that they are been washed. This was the only one I could find. I expect that it is one of Avis’s attempts to get me in to something more fashionable.’

‘Well we shouldn’t have a problem spotting you in the field.’ Veoine laughed.

‘Perhaps I should change? I expect I will scare off all the game in this.’ Daen smiled ruefully.

‘If you think we are going to wait while you go change again you can go throw yourself in the lake!’ The blond captain said with mock severity doing a fair impression of lord Darcia.

‘Veoine.’ Darcia warned lightly but there was no bite behind his growl today.

The blond captain roiled his pale blue eyes not apologetic in the least, but then he never had been. ‘I wouldn’t worry about game, we may hawk a bit but this ride is mostly for fun. You haven’t forgotten that race we planed along the grate western fields; the ground is perfect for jumping. And besides that habit is very fetching isn’t it Timor?’

Timor who ad just ridden up on his rangy gray appraised Daen’s form frankly his eyes somewhat clinical. ‘Yes, it’s a good color on you, and I here that such habits are all crack in the Imperial city.’

Daen squinted at the two captains dubiously, but her dark brows were arched cynical but playful, her green eyes sparkling beneath them. Darcia smiled behind his mask. Daen tilted her head like a sparrow and glanced up at him her hands on her hip. ‘Well my lord?’

‘It becomes you well.’ Darcia offered soberly.

‘Such faint praise for such a rare flower.’ Veoine mocked lightly.

‘Not every woman wants to be so idly flattered.’ Darcia countered.

‘Show me that woman, for she would be a rare creature indeed?!’ Veoine laughed.

‘I for one.’ Came Vespa’s voice from across the courtyard.

‘And I.’ Daen concurred as she mounted her inpatient chestnut mare.

Timor lent over in his saddle catching Veoine’s attention. ‘Don’t say it Veoine.’

‘What?!’

‘I know you.’ He waged a stern finger, his voice dropped ‘You were going to say they weren’t women, if you want to remain a man I wouldn’t say it.’

Veoine put up his hands in mock innocence, ‘As if I would say such a thing!’

Darcia let out a stifled guffaw of laughter, and Veoine broke out into a wide grin. But before he could say anything more Vespa demanded impatiently. ‘What are you whispering about over there?’

‘What else, women of course!’ Veoine shouted back standing in his stirrups.

The scout captain let out a very un-lady like snort of disgust. And Daen smiled archly at the men apparently well aware of what Veoine had intended to say and dealt them a barbed retort. ‘Well if you have finished gossiping like fish wife’s we can begin our sport.’

‘A hit!’ Timor smirked and Veoine clutched is heart as if he really had received a rapier thrust to the heart as the women passed them, their faces matching masks of disdainful scorn and loveliness.

Darcia wondered if he should say something, but in the spirit of festivities he decided to let it slip, though usually he would have dealt with a public display of disrespect severely, he saw no need to on this occasion amongst friends. Perhaps the high priestess was right the girl was softening his edges.

The horses catching their rider’s buoyant mood were restive, chomping and snatching at their bits. Jingling their harness, and shifting underneath their riders. At Darcia’s nod one of his guards blew the hunting horn and the party moved off. As they passed out of the city the men took up the Theronian chant, the song of the hunt and challenge, a song that had been sung by generations of Marchadian men. Darcia had heard this song in the cradle, and learned its notes when he rode his pony to hunt, singing then in a high boyish tenor. Now he lifted his voice in a rich baritone more fitting to the character of the choral. He took a fierce satisfaction in this, a reminder if he needed any that he had come on a long way since he inherited his mantel before his sixteenth summer.

Looking up the steep mountain behind the plaice, beyond the hilly pastures up on the very top of the nearest mountain behind them was the grate barrow of his ancestors. Did they watch him now from their lofty resting place among the eagle’s nests? Darcia found he could not bring himself to believe either yay, or nay to such a question. However he knew that could they hear the voices lifted to them on the mountain breezes they would recognize the age old song.

But he doubted they would recognize their country. Things had changed over the past ten years, probably even before that, but now it was more marked. Towns had risen up and now had rights to govern themselves without the influence of his nobility, and he had played a part in that. Slowly the Marchadians were emerging, becoming more independent, more sure of their own identity, the once provincial backwater was becoming a power in its own right, and it made him glad. But strength caused fear, and he saw that his countries metamorphosis was going to cause struggles. People who fought the changes or the people who thought that the changes were not happening fast enough.

There were troubled waters ahead. The murdered body of the messenger discovered just a week ago by villagers was evidence of this. The bloated and decomposing body was found in one of the wooded marshes surrounding the south west lakes, washed downstream from who knows where. Darcia had gone himself to investigate, the body was in a bad state of decay, yet Darcia could still tell that the man had not seen his twentieth summer. But that poor unfortunate’s death had answered the question as to what was happening to the messages which seemed to have been going astray as of late. The unknown messenger was murdered that was certain, and likely as not others had met the same fate. As he had stared down at the corpse he had despaired a little, it was yet another victim of unseen forces a warning sign perhaps of more sinister things to come. With that depressing thought he had ridden back to Bala, and was glad to return to the fierce warmth of his little love.


Now that he knew messages may not make it through the usual channels he sent his missives to the empire through traders, hopefully that fool boy of an emperor would receive at least one. The messages that Darcia had received revealed that the emperor was growing suspicious and impatient with the lack of communication. Hopefully the most recent documents found there way to their intended destination and then might smooth over some ruffled feathers. Perhaps it was too much to hope. Like a captain Darcia felt that he stood at the bow of a ship he watched as they sailed in to the gathering clouds. However today was bright yet cool, golden with promise as only a spring day could be, a glorious day, and for an afternoon he felt that he could forget if just for a little while. If there were challenges to face he would meet them as he always had. He looked over at the girl riding beside him in her blood red jacket and was thankful that at least now he had a compass to steer by.

All his worries were soon blown away when they reached the lush grass fields that stretched between the west woods and the lake. With a mocking challenge the women spurred their horses forward. With a whop of joy the men followed suit in pursuit, their quarry surging ahead in a thunder of hoofs and a swirl of fabric. Beside him was Veoine, a fay smile on his face, his heart entirely in the hunt, his teeth white in his tanned face his eyes fixed on Vespa intent as a hawk upon a sparrow. Darcia behind his mask wore much the same look.

Darcia enjoyed the way his favourite mounts stride ate up the ground beneath him as Per stretched out to his full extent. Veoine was beside him, urging his own horse. As they reached the thick hawthorn hedges that broke the fields up they did not draw rain but urged their horses on to leap them. Daen and Vespa’s small horses collected themselves before the tall hedges with deep ditches before them as if they thought of stopping before they sprang up high like terriers. For a moment Darcia’s heart was in his mouth, but he saw that Daen had landed safely the other side and he turned his concentration back to the fence. Per and Veione’s dun broke stride in their headlong gallop and without checking as the smaller horses had done they simply hurdled over the hedge stretching out over the fence as if they flew.

When they landed they soon caught up with, and then overtook the women with ease. Headless of them, Darcia and Veione raced between themselves, as they had as boys, on foot, and pony reminding themselves that they were despite everything that the years had thrown then they were still young men.

When they pulled in the horses were blowing hard Veione grinned at him as smugly as he had when he had bested him in races as a boy. ‘Well I think I won this race.’ The blond captain said triumphantly. ‘Quite convincingly!’

‘A fine mount.’ Darcia conceded to the smug cavalry captain.

The blond man beamed and petted his dun heartily, the dun was a horse Veione had bread and trained himself, his pride and joy. His sky blue eyes gleamed as the women joined them. ‘Not as fine as some mounts.’ He said under his voice.

The noble was inclined to agree (though he didn’t encourage Veione who was incorrigible in his opinion) as he admired the flush on Daen’s cheeks and how her lips parted with exertion, and how her breasts heaved against the confines of her red coat, and the back wool corset beneath it thinking over what else could make her look so tousled.

Timor, Avis and Kef declined the hair-raising leap over the hedges instead tacking the sensible option of jumping the gates. Avis riding side saddle cantered primly beside her husband. ‘More bottom than sense!’ She chortled.

‘I would expect nothing less from our lord!’ Kef answered. ‘Nor Veione, he is the captain of the cavalry after all.’

‘And the girls?’

Kef looked at his wife with wary dark eyes. ‘Vespa has always been a dare devil.’

‘And Daen?’ His petite wife asked coyly.

Kef’s dark gaze rested for a moment on his lord and his chosen companion who was debating animatedly with Veione, no doubt trying to arrange a rematch. ‘What else could we expect of the woman who our lord chose as his mate?’

‘His mate?’

‘Woman, you are the one who has been telling me for weeks that if the bells aren’t ringing with the weding chimes within the year then you will eat your best bonnet!’ Kef replied exasperated. Avis shot her husband a warning look as they drew closer to the group who were now heatedly discussing the relative merits of their horses and points of breeding. They milled around for a while before Timor mentioned that he was hungry, and everyone else realized that they were also puckish. And so they were all very pleased that Timor had already arranged lunch at a nearby inn. Sedately they headed in to the road going down in to the gorge braking in to trot following a game trail that was a convenient short cut up to inn. Light hearted conversation continued and the trees cast pleasant dappled shade that was almost dazzling no one noticed that they were riding straight in to an ambush.

A shout from Veoine prompted Darcia to rein in hard as Daen uttered an unintelligible cry as her chestnut mare suddenly jumped to the side and reared up almost throwing her. To her credit Daen managed to hold on. Vespa’s had hauled her horse up a little way ahead and called back, ‘What’s going on, what do you mean duck?’

Daen’s mount was still plunging and spooking Daen struggling possessing of only one of her rains. Darcia spurred Per forwards and caught the mare above her bit, his firm hand controlling the panicking animal, it’s eyes showing a wild white rim. The mare suddenly tugged hard to the side again pulling him out of the saddle. Darcia yanked on its bridal but as he did he herd the unmistakable twang and clack of a crossbow been fired. There was a sharp pain across is shoulder.

‘Ambush!’ Darcia billowed. At once there was a flurry of activity as his captains drew their swords. With an angry grunt Darcia pulled the bolt from where it had penetrated his shoulder, going thorough the skin over his scapula like a piercing. It was not barbed and it came out cleanly only a shallow wound. Daen had managed to sit back up properly, her face pale. She lifted a trembling hand to her arm, there was a rip in the fabric, and her buck skin leather gloves came away slick with blood. He followed her eyes as she glanced up at the tree beside her. And there lodged deep in the bark of the tree was a crossbow bolt. Fury and horror blazed up in him.

Veoine was now by his side, and Timor had caught up as well. Torn between looking for the assailants and rendering them to bloody pieces for daring to hurt Daen and staying with the wounded girl he tried to decide what to do. His second looked at him for a long moment before saying in a voice only just loud enough for Darcia to hear ‘Your eyes are red.’ Darcia startled by this immediately loosened his grip on Bherith, now conscious of the hand that had instinctively sought its hilt. As he loosed his grip some of the intensity of the rage abated and he was able to think more clearly.

Veoine drew his own sword, the significance was not lost on Darcia. ‘I will go, if I catch them they might survive long enough to talk.’ Veoine offered quietly. Darcia saw the wisdom in this, though at first he could see no merit in sparing, even temporarily, the lives of one who would attack what was his. Information was priceless, and it was information they were short of. Perhaps this might be the chance to find out who had been killing the messengers.

‘Go then.’ The noble ordered his voice sounding guttural even to his own ears, the blond captain’s blue eyes reflected his relief. Then his face hardening with purpose nodded and dismounting set off in to the woods armed with only his demon sword Euryale. Darcia wondered at Veoine’s reaction, he had looked afraid for a moment. Had Veoine thought him close to losing control? But then how long had it been since he had been so provoked? Self-consciously Darcia ran his tongue over his teeth checking for the fangs that may have grown with Bherith’s influence before he turned back to Daen.

‘Are you alright Daen?’ He asked as gently as the raging emotions in his voice would allow.

Daen had been staring strikingly towards the woods where Veoine was rapidly disappearing. Slowly she turned her attention back to him, her green eyes wary. When they met his they widened fractionally. Apparently his eyes were still red. ‘I’m fine. It’s only a scratch. It was just a bit of a shock.’

‘Can I take a look?’

‘In a minuet. It really is not very serious.’ Daen answered dismissively glancing at him she opened her mouth as if to speak but she seemed to dismiss what ever she had been about to say before turning her attention back to the woodlands worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Vespa had now trotted over to where the group was congregated. ‘Where is that fool Captain Faorin going? It’s too dangerous to go in to the woods on his own, he isn’t even wearing any armor! We were lucky not to get killed by that ambush. By the god’s they could still be close by!’

Darcia almost smirked. ‘Veoine is in less danger than you think captain Vespa. He is indeed ascertaining if they are nearby or not. But your right it is foolish to linger here we shall carry on to the inn.’

Vespa looked as if she might argue, but she to only bit her lip and looked worriedly towards the deep dark woodland. Reluctantly the women followed behind him as he lead the way. Timor decided to take the rear guard and trailed behind hoping perhaps to catch a trailing glimpse of the assailants. Kef sat his horse tensely; Darcia had no doubt that should another attack come Kef would not think twice about throwing his body in the way of a bolt to save the women folk. For all his time as a gladiator he was a chivalrous soul. Darcia glanced back his eyes catching Daen’s just for a moment distracting her intent searching of the shifting woodland twilight. He gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile, a slight twist of his mouth. But she still looked stricken. The attack had obviously badly shaken the young woman, by the gods it had shaken him to. It was not like her, and yet who would not be disturbed after a deliberate attempt on their life’s. Darcia just hoped that the assault did not reopen the wounds of the last assassination attempt upon her; the thought of her as she had been the days after made his blood run cold as no threat to his own life ever had.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------




Daen now sat by the small inn fire shivering slightly all warmth from the day seemed to have fled. Daen was right wound had not been very serious, a mere scratch, and had stopped bleeding long before they had reached the inn. She dared not look out of the window towards the woods else she would have not been able to stop herself from going in to them. She had left the group pleading fatigue, fleeing the room. Uncomfortable under Darcia’s attentive concern and Timor’s speculative gaze she feared that she would not be able to hide her secret knowledge under such well meaning scrutiny. However she stayed untill Vespa and Kef’s restlessness over Veoine that had worn on her guilty nerves.

Plan after plan she made for somehow leaving the inn and going out to search the woods she made in her head all to be cast aside. Darcia was not going to let her out in to the woods on her own. He was downstairs right now writing messages to his personal guard, scribbling a demanding missive with his bold slanting script. Daen had very little doubt that a multitude of men would be combing the woods long in to the darkling hours in search of any sign of the assailants, probably within the hour.

Perhaps if Leoff was lucky the darkness would be cover enough. And so Daen willed that twilight come quickly with all her heart. Just before Thuharu had startled to the side Daen had only got a glimpse of his face, her brother Leoff. She may have even called his name. Shocked to her core she thought that she must have been going mad. She was seeing things that were not there, it would not be the first time that faces from the past had haunted her as waking dreams. Somewhere in the back of her whirling mind she realized that she had been wounded. Perhaps he was a ghost warning her of danger? No he had been sold real, but why would he be here? Had she seen a crossbow in his hand? Had he like the rest of her family come to kill her? That thought alone was nearly enough to send her reeling in to the blackness that now dimed the edge of her vision. Better to be no more than face that fear.

She felt more than saw Darcia charge up beside her his presence a possessive, protective mantle. When he masterfully took hold of her horses bridle and stilled her horse it stilled her panic enough for Daen to be able to get a hold of herself. Sitting up she had quickly looked in to the gloomy woodland, her senses thrown wide. Like salt on raw skin it was almost a blinding sensation, but keeping her focus she narrowed in on her brother.

‘Leoff.’

It was a mental exclamation. A shout of silence. But she knew that somehow he had herd her.

‘Daen?!’ He ejaculated as if she had poked him.

With her minds eye she could see that his companions were startled by his sudden outburst. They turned to him, but Leoff was looking down in the gorge below as his grip on his cross bow suddenly went limp, his face mortally stricken. Daen had a sudden heady doubling of vision as she slipped like water in to his mind. Here she was looking through Leoff’s eyes down upon herself looking up. It was rather like looking at an endless chain of mirrors. Once the instant of dizziness passed she was immeasurably relived to discover that Leoff had no intention of killing her.

‘Don’t shoot!’ He called.

‘Leoff what on earth has got in to you?’ A dark haired man behind him hissed.

‘The sybilla…that’s my sister!’

‘Your sister?’

‘Loeff are you sure?’ The other more comely dark haired man asked his tone concerned yet slightly incredulous.

‘Of coarse I’m sure, I would know her anywhere.’

‘What by the gods is going on Vas?’

‘Leoff has been searching for his sister since before I met him. She was taken by the lord of the western army, and apparently we have just found her.’

‘Oh shit, this is some sort of coil.’

‘He can say that again!’ Daen exclaimed to Leoff, her thought echoing his own.

‘How can you be in my head?’ He asked her.

‘I don’t know I just am.’ Daen said, before bombarding him with some images of the past few weeks. She realized her folly when he staggered a little.

‘Stop. Please stop its confusing.’ Leoff pleaded. He gathered himself. ‘This is very strange.’

‘Very. But there is no time for this….’ Daen’s mental conversation was suddenly interrupted by another presence one that was both familiar and completely alien at the same time. Instinctively she threw up a barrier and broke her connection with her brother.

‘Where are they?’ It was Veione sounding distracted.

An alien female presence answered him. ‘I’m looking I thought that I herd something over here but it’s just disappeared!’

Daen quickly recalled a lesson from Samigina, that some human’s thoughts were ‘Loud’ enough for another who was spiritually gifted to here even over a large distance. You could if you wanted track such a person using just that. Right now without thinking about it she had walled her brother up within his mind, covering him like a shadowy cloak. It was somewhat like playing murder in the dark. As she watched Veione walk towards the trees she decided to risk one last desperate conversation hoping that Leoff would understand. And hoping that his own bush craft would help him evade capture for sitting so close she could feel the raging volcano that was Darcia’s fury barely contained beside her. If they were caught there would be no guarantee that they would survive it.

‘Run! Keep your mind small, run!’

Daen returned wholly to herself, momentarily marveling at the way her mind had managed to fracture and work like the roots of a tree. She had longed to stay in some form with Leoff and watch over his escape but she dared not risk it lest he be discovered through her. His own ability to cloak his mind was impressive, she herself had a hard time braking through, if she had not already been close to him she doubted that she would have gotten through to him. It was if he was blocking the whole world out. Daen also had a suspicion that perhaps his sword had something to do with it, that Leoff had been unconsciously shielding his mind from the demon within it.

However Leoff’s presence was in a way welcome, it was also perplexing. Why was he here? Why did he try to kill her, granted he didn’t know it was her but since when was Leoff an assassin? She had so many things she wanted to tell Leoff, and so many questions to ask him. Now safe in the inn she was sick with worry. She had not known how much she had missed her brother until she had seen him. Somehow she had managed not to forget him, but at least ignore the feelings, locking them away behind some forgotten door of her mind just as she had done with the memories of her mother. To survive she had to otherwise face a monstrous consuming loneliness.

A knock at the door and startled her out of her thoughts. Before she could answer the door opened and Darcia entered the room. Had she not felt so laden she might have smiled, or been frustrated, the knock was only a nod at curtsey, Darcia would have come in whether she wanted to see him or not.

He did not ask her how she was. He knew that she would tell him that she was fine even if her arm had been cut off. Instead in his inarguable way he put the steaming bowl of herbal wash on the bedside table, and then a pot of unguent beside it before he simply sat down on the bed and pealed back her shirt to look at the scratch on her arm.

Daen did not protest when he washed away the blood with the herbal mixture which was almost too hot. He took his time as he informed her that Veione had returned. The blond captain had not been able to find the assailants. Daen almost rejoiced but the anger that still laced the nobles tone made her heart sink as quickly as it had risen. ‘Faithless’ a bitter voice in her conscious told her.

She listened half heartedly as he continued to tell her that Veione had not returned to the inn but gone straight back to Bala to arrange a larger search party. Apparently even demons swords had there limits depending on the person who wielded them. ‘I knew I should have gone myself.’ The dark haired man lamented. ‘Now it’s dark I don’t expect that we will find them. If they had horses somewhere they could be at the border by dawn!’

With her whole heart Daen hoped that they were.

‘What would you do to them if you caught them?’ She plucked up the courage to ask, her voice carefully listless. As if she was merely curious.

‘If I caught them?’ He thought for a moment. ‘I honestly don’t know. They would have to be interrogated. And I couldn’t let someone get away with an attempt on both your life and my own. I have killed men for far less.’

Daen didn’t comment. She had suspected as much. But she found that it did not make her think any less of him. If it had not been Leoff she would have probably approved of his sentiments to a degree. He was still speaking, his voice low and rhythmic. ‘It was to dark to travel back tonight I don’t want to risk you. We shall stay here and then travel when my guard get here in the morning.’ As Darcia twisted to get the unguent she noticed that his snowy white shirt was stained by blood. As he stretched the wound reopened and fresh red blossomed across the fabric.

She knelt up and touched his shoulder. Darcia looked back at her his eyes dark. ‘Your hurt too.’ Daen said softly.

Carefully she pealed his shirt off his back, the blood making it stick to him in places. ‘Typical, so busy looking after everyone else that you forget to take care of yourself!’ Daen chided as she brushed his long black hair over his other shoulder and out of the way.

Darcia submitted himself to be poked and prodded by Daen as she cleaned the wound. Daen worked quickly, her nimble fingers remembering their healers training. Her bit of a scratch was far less serious than Darcia’s. It was an odd wound, the bolt had skewered in to the skin and come out the other side. However with the blood cleared away it was less serious than she had feared, and already the fresh blood was coagulating the opening closed. She was suddenly very grateful that Thuharu had decided to spook and probably save both of their life’s.

It suddenly hit her that she could have lost him and she stilled suddenly. The dark haired noble shifted to look at her something of her thoughts must have shown on her face for she saw recognition in his eyes and realized that he had been thinking the same thing as well.

Even though she wanted to protest that she had to stitch his wound she did not stop him as he clutched her arm and then kissed her hungrily. In one moment thoughts of life and death crowded her mind. Desire flaring up in her, and in her kiss she tried to let him know ‘I could have lost this, I could have lost you!’

Remaining clothing was flung off in to some forgotten corner by frenzied hands so that they could better revel in the sensations of bare flesh against flesh. Over and over Darcia kissed her as she lay back against the pillows until she was swooning with it. When her nails scored along his back he hissed and drew back. ‘Open your eyes.’ He murmured cupping her cheek.

She sighed and did as he commanded looking up at him. His dark blue eyes seemed to glisten in the shadows. She reached up and with the pads of her fingers traced the planes of his face, how perfect he was, how dangerous and male. Foreign to her and yet so familiar, a face she was begging to know as well her own. His eyelids flickered closed as her feather light touches glided over his eyes. How strange it was to feel his eye move beneath its lid seeking her out even in the dark. His lips were softer than the rest of his skin, slightly damp from there kisses, and full like ripe fruit.

He shifted his hips and she saw that his lips were not the only thing that was swelling. His heavy length pressed against her thigh, soft skin, not as soft as his lips but still very soft and touchable. Her small hand snaked down and began to explore the contours and textures of his desire as her other hand continued to explore the many other planes of his male body, her soul delighting in there differences.

Her breasts were soft and round, his chest was hard and sculpted. Where her waist was an hourglass, his abdomen was a flat board of muscle, muscles which twitched and shifted under her touch.

It was his eyes that were closed now, squeezed tight. He was biting his lip so that only soft groans could escape him. His arms shook slightly as he held himself above her concentrating on the pleasure she was giving him as her clever little hand began to role his ball sacks around as if weighing them.

Reaching up Daen urged him down with firm pressure on his sensuously long hair. Darcia sank down to rest on her, and she guided him in to her body marveling in the sensations that his penetrating her could cause. He kissed her long and hard again before taking up his rhythm. Daen twined herself around him, meting him thrust for thrust wishing that somehow they could be like the tree and the ivy bound together like one being. The grinding of his pelvic bone caused the most devastating of all frictions and she felt the most welcome of all warmth’s suffuse her every limb. Darcia’s rumbaing groans of pleasure vibrated in her chest. She felt held on a precipice ready to fall, ready to fly and he was right there with her. For some reason she felt tears flowing freely from her eyes, and she buried her face in his neck hoping that he would think it just part of her passion. Only the guilt she carried over her brother stopped her from telling him that she loved him.

They lay together, the bed covers were twisted at the bottom of the bed. Darcia twiddled a lock of her hair using it to tickle his skin and her own. Daen explored his hand, comparing it to her own in the dim light. A question finally bubbled up to the top of her mind.

‘My Lord?’

‘I wish you would call me by my name Daen.’ he murmured drowsily.

‘It is one of your names.’ Daen answered. Darcia let out a chuckle and nuzzled closer to the young woman in his arms. Daen was not deterred. ‘How come you could find me when I had gone over twenty miles but Veoine could not find the attackers?’

Darcia sighed thoughtfully. ‘Have you forgotten that I kissed you the moment we met?’

‘No.’ She shook her head smiling, but did not raise to the bait.

‘Well you see in a way that was a spell of sorts. By kissing you I made a connection. Physically from then on we were linked and so using Bherith’s powers I could find you. Though I admit it was not easy. Now the connection would be stronger so I could find you much easier probably in much that same way that if ever you wanted to find me you could.’

‘You thought that you could find them and you haven’t ever touched them before.’ Daen pointed out.

‘I wouldn’t have used my third eye.’

‘How then?’

‘A demon sword can enhance your senses. Let you smell like a wolf, hear like the dears, see like a hawk, even in the dark. They can lend you strength, speed, stamina, act like amour, and some can even give you wings. But it’s dangerous, the powers are hard to control, they take a tole on your body and mind the more you use the more dangerous that becomes. That’s why even people who can use demon swords try not to use their powers to often no mater how seductive it might be. Demons are not forgiving creatures.’ Daen glanced over at where Bherith was laying against the wall, its little red eye winked at her. She looked back at Darcia who had been following her gaze. He was silent for a moment and then she sensed that he had come to a decision about something. ‘Bherith and I have an unusually close bond. I awakened him when I was still very young in the most desperate of circumstances. I was very lucky not to have lost my mind or my body to him.’

‘Your body?’

‘Indeed, a demon as strong as Bherith could easily possess a human. That’s why most people cannot wheeled a demon sword even if they do manage to summon it. He still tries it on with me occasionally, a sort of battle of wills we have going on between us.’ He stroked Daen’s hair soothingly as she tensed. ‘Don’t worry we have an understanding. It was touch and go for a while when I was younger. I almost lost my life in doing it, I think I was willing to die rather than let him take my body and so somehow I ended up getting the upper hand in a way. But it means now that I will never be rid of him, he is like another limb.’ Daen was quiet she pressed her body closer to his. ‘Dose that scare you?’ He asked after a moment.

‘The thought of losing you dose.’ Daen answered thinking of the scared expression Veoine had worn and the warning Samigina had sent her. She lay with her head across Darcia’s chest. Looking up before she closed her eyes she saw that Darcia was brooding over something. The fire light was reflected in his eyes making them seem red and for a moment she felt uneasy until he looked down, his eyes a cool blue gray and stroked her hair lovingly.

‘Go to sleep Daen. You won’t lose me easily I promise you.’


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daen had thought a grate deal about what Darcia had told her fitting it in with what she knew of demons and magic. But her dreams that night were fleeting confused normal dreams. Her dreams had been disturbed of late. Three nights ago she had woken trembling not sure of what she had seen. A village burning, women crying and screaming, a horse lying dead, a boy with a broken sword in his hand… She had told Darcia of the dream but with no names it was impossible to tell where the attack was. When no news came of any raid Daen decided that it had just been Cira’s mind over spilling again. But tonight they made little sense, and Daen could remember little of them. To her they were blessedly ordinary for all there strangeness, no portents of the future, or glimpses of the now, just her unconscious wonderings. Dreams of meows, herds of horses, and a young girl more filly than person.

A voice broke through. ‘Where are you?’

The little girl resented the intruder. ‘Go away!’ Daen shouted her voice young and high. The person did not belong in this dream of horses and sky.

‘Daen?’

She suddenly came to herself. ‘Leoff? Oh Leoff you shouldn’t come to me like this they might find you!’

‘I want to talk to you.’

‘I can’t you have to get away from here.’

‘I’m not leaving until I talk to you.’ Leoff replied doggedly and Daen felt him grip her mind. Darcia stirred beside her and she was filled with fear that he might somehow know of the conversation. ‘I’m still close to Bala in the woods.’

‘What, you fool they will catch you!’ She was horrified.

‘Ha! Hardly men were practically walking over us.’ Leoff answered smugly.

‘Stubborn, block headed….Fine I will come and see you tonight. But then you have to go flee to the border.’

‘How will you…’

‘Oh don’t worry I will be able to find you. Just lay low and keep your mind small. It’s not safe to talk like this.’ She warned.

She carefully extricated herself from the bed. Dragged on her nightgown and threw a cloak over her shoulders. Somehow Darcia had managed to get a change of clothes sent for her from Bala along with his own amour. Daen wondered if she could go barefoot, but decided against it pulling on her soft leather boots. She also took her small hinting bow and a few arrows. Then snuck in to the kitchen and took some bread and cheese, it wouldn’t be much but she was sure Leoff would appreciate it none the less. With her heart in her mouth, and her nerves jingling at every creaking board she managed to slip out of the inn and out in to the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n; thank you for the last reviews Alicat1194, & Kynrael. There is more Veoine and Vespa coming up soon. This chapter took ages I have just started a new job so it’s eating up time like nothing else!

I can’t wait for the next Ebony serpent chapter by the way!

Also thanks to people who have rated, its nice to see people like the story.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------