The Conjured and the exiles

‘So you know the plan?’ Daen asked again in a hushed voice.

Leoff rolled his eye’s, ‘You tell me my swords name. I chant the spell, it will brake the lock. We use the clothes next door to disguise ourselves. We head out of the eastern arch, and skirt the gardens, there’s an orchard where there are ponies tethered. Yes yes, you have told us, Captain Brand has told us and so has Veione for good measure.’

She laughed a little; glad the tension was broken for at least a moment.

‘Why won’t you come with me?’ Leoff once again asked his voice soft.

Daen fiddled with her cloak to adjust it so as not to look at him. ‘Because...Because I cannot leave him.’

‘But I can protect you now.’ Leoff argued holding his sword before him.

She laughed and then shook her head. ‘You would not say that if you knew him. Besides I do not need protecting from him.’ She glanced up at him. ‘But if you don’t go soon I will be discovered and we will all be in trouble. You must wait a little while until I have managed to create a cloak about Bala, enough spirits to interfere with Bherith’s sight.’

She passed him a piece of paper, on it a complicated series of runes were written. Leoff took it form her looking it over. ‘What is it?’

‘Its sygaldry.’ Daen said. ‘But that is besides the point. Its the spell you will be using to get out of here.’

‘Daen I cannot read runes.’

‘You don’t need to. You need to prick your finger with your sword let your blood drop in the centre, then put it face down on the lock face, then call your swords name.’ She showed him her finger where she had pricked it herself. ‘It’s pretty basic stuff, I wrote this one out, so its all ready to go, gelderd and everything, you just need to activate it.’

Daen left, hugging all three young men and wishing them luck. She was not sure if things would ever quite be the same between Loeff and herself, but they had reached some kind of understaining.



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Daen sat out on a small bench that was within a hollowed out tree. It was a good place to mediate; close to nature she had a better conduct to the spirits. Samigina sensed her intent and spoke. ‘It’s not wise what you want to do. You will have to remove me to manage such a summoning, that will leave you very open, and who knows what might answer it. Besides to summon so many you will have to use a huge amount of your own energy’


‘But what other choice do I have. You yourself told me that it was the best way to hide the spiritual energy of others, cloaking them in a mass of spirit energy. If I went with them I could have cloaked them, but I have to say here, and it’s the only way.’

Samigina did not reply, unwilling to condone such recklessness, but she did not try to stop Daen. It was the closest thing to consent that the unicorn would offer Daen realised and slipped the ring off her finger breaking there connection. The sudden wealth of the spirit world tugged at Daen like a current trying to sweep her away. Concentrating Daen set about her task, calling, becoming a bacon to the lose drifting entities that floated through the ether of the world. In her mind she could see that her spirit light, usually little more than an ember when she opened her mind it was like uncovering a lamp, and it filled the dark. She naturally attracted such rootless spirits, but when she actively called them she became like a load stone, drawing them with a frightening but fascinating hastening.

Soon they semed to her third eye to thicken the surrounding aria like a miasma. Voices assailed her like a rising tide, unable to block them out she had to simply ignore them and concentrate on what she was doing. They spread out over the surrounding aria, like low cloud descending on a mountain top. ‘If that doesn’t hide them nothing will.’ Daen thought to herself somewhat proud of what she had wrought.

She let her mind seek out Loeff. He was tensely awaiting her signal. ‘Go now.’ Her sending was the merest whisper, she did not have the strength for anything else, not while maintaining the summoning of the spirits. She felt his acknowledgement and retreated to concentrate on the job in hand. After a moment she felt a slight mental tug, a pop, her spell had been successful at opening the lock.

As she settled, maintaining the miasma was easier than she had anticipated. They were like watching dust mites in the sun, swirling in languid eddies. When they passed about a tree they moved the leaves, making it shiver as if in the wind. Daen realised that the spirits called in such multitudes souls if the conjuror know how could raise a storm. She stored that bit of information away.

Daen stiffened suddenly as she felt something alien brush against her wide open mind, a touch; it was like feeling an eel squirming in the river muck beneath her toes. It made her shiver and snatch back her awareness. After a moment she let her mind tentatively unfold again, but the presence had gone lost in the teeming multitudes that she had summoned to her. ‘Someone or something was defiantly looking for me.’ She thought to herself, she supposed that she should not be so surprised that something not quite so benevolent might answer her very open call, but it had gone for the time being or so it seemed. She set that strange occurrence aside, thinking it as probably nothing, just her nerves playing tricks on her.

She hoped that her momentary lapse had not weekend her cloak. However nothing seemed amiss. Night had now closed in fully, and the temperature had dropped. The moon sat low in the sky, bathing the land in its pale light. Perhaps if Daen had not been worried about her brother the night may have been pleasant. Confident she could maintain the spirits presence simply by leaving her mind open she left the shelter of the alcove, placing Samigina in her pocket and walked through the garden, playing with the front of her gown in both hands twisting it nervously as she entered the arbor of trees that encircled a circular lawn. She stood in the deep shadows, looking out at the small meadow. Wind moved the long grass, in the moonlight it was like ripples over water. Quickly she glanced up at the sky; its many stars were breathtaking.

‘There you are little one. Not thinking of running off were you?’ A smooth male voice purred behind her, she froze, Lord Darcia his presence to her raw imnd was like a red edged darkness. She watched him out of the corner of her eye; he was dressed in his black and sliver armour over a shirt of Prussian blue silk, like he was dressed in shadows and the night’s sky. His helmet hid his face and his long hair lose and billowing out like a banner behind him. He looked like some malevolent avenging figure from legend in the moon light.

‘No.’ Daen answered genuinely surprised. ‘Where would I want to go?’

‘Where indeed?’ Lord Darcia retorted coolly as he reached up and took off his helmet, revealing his hansom if scowling face. Bathed in the monochromatic light his eyes were molten silver, he raised his ebony eyebrow at her inquiringly.

‘Where are you going my Lord?’ She asked.

‘Bherith sensed something strange. I thought I would take a look, after I found you that was.’ He stated. ‘I did not think you would be so easy to find.’

‘Perhaps I was looking for you.’ She retorted sounding much more confident than she actually felt.

‘Is that so?’ He asked his voice pitched low his breath stirring the hair on the nape of her neck when he moved closer. When Daen didn’t answer he continued. ‘There seems to be more spirit activity in this aria then there should be, they lay like fog, obscuring the ether, I was wondering if you knew anything about it little one?’

Daen tilted her head. ‘What exactly are you accusing me of?’

‘I accuse you of nothing.’ He paused. ‘Yet.’

He looked at her, waiting when no answer came he turned to leave. Daen knew a moment of unease. ‘My lord?’

‘Hmm.’

‘Where are you going now?’

‘I thought that I would check on the troops.’ He said noncommittally.

That would put him dangerously close to her brother Daen thought. And there was something about her lord that night which made her sure he suspected something. She managed not to show her distress, but franticly tried to think of a way to delay him without raising any more suspicion in his mind.

The noble watched as the girl semed concerned for a moment, her brows frowning. Suddenly her green orbs flicked up to his face before raking over his body in a way that immediately drew his interest. With a little sway of her hips she came towards him, biting her lip as she was wont to do when she was thinking or a little nervous. Her free hand reached up to clutch his shoulder, and before he knew what was happening she pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss.

He opened to her questing tongue before he could think then cupped the back of her head when she would have pulled away. Her free hand was cool from her time outside and so was very aware when her digits found the vulnerable un-armoured aria at his groin, touching him over his leather breaches. Startled he forgot to breath, his eyes opened wide in surprise at her unexpected boldness. Darcia had not expected her to do that, and now that she had offered herself in hat first kiss he couldn’t refuse her, it was a rising desire that he couldn’t fight. Questioning the prisoners could wait.

She sighed in to him before she reseeded. Darcia felt as if a rising wave had just crashed over him and then pulled back. Daen could feel the tension through his body, as his sliver eyes flicked back and forth over her face. He looked confused, and then as if something broke in him he caught a breath and with force she had not anticipated his lips found hers again; claiming and devouring what was his. Daen murmured something he couldn’t quite understand, her lips moving against his but he no longer cared what she had to say, or what she wanted for he wanted her now. ‘So be it…’ He growled.

‘My Lord.’ Daen gasped when he finally released her lips. ‘I.....’

‘Don’t talk,’ he muttered, shifting so he could clame her lips once more. Darcia kissed her deeply, invading her mouth with his tongue. He suddenly seemed larger and stronger than Daen remembered him being. Or maybe it was only that she was intimidated by the intensity that radiated off of her dark lord tonight her mind unsheaded from his. With his teeth he drew off his one gauntlet moving his now bare hand over the thin barrier of silk she wore from her shoulder and down to cup her breast. She gasped as he squeezed her roughly, not because he wanted to hurt her, but because he couldn’t help himself he needed to hear her cry.

Darcia was disappointed by the hiss she let out when he repeated the action. Daen pressed herself closer to him, though the cold metal of his plate armour much have been biting in to her soft flesh. Daen’s wicked little hand still rubbed and stroked his hardening desire through the soft leather of his breaches. Glancing down he saw her hardened nipples through her thin nightgown, chilled by the frigid surface of his chest plate they stood out proudly. He needed to see more of her. ‘Get undressed.’

Daen goggled at him flushing prettily. ‘But My Lord someone might see.....’

‘I do not care,’ he said, his voice rough now. ‘Your embarrassment does not matter.’

The young witch gave him a darkling look but capitulated moving away from his embrace to have more room. Angrily or determinedly he did not know, she yanked off her night gown. Her underwear followed in a similar fashion. It was not a titillating strip tease, it was an violent, stubborn demonstration, divesting herself of clothes as swiftly as possible to bare herself to him unabashedly. She thrust her clothing away and standing up to her full height the look on her face clearly said ‘There now are you happy?!’ A challenge to him.

He smirked; she really was glorious when she was furious. He watched her coolly, her stubborn uptilted jaw, her smooth shoulders, her uptilted pert breasts, his focus shifted to her slightly convex belly, the slight swell of her hips, the sloping valley between them, drew his eyes down to where her thighs met, clenched together. Darcia practically rolled his eyes. ‘You don't have anything to hide from me, little one. I have seen it all before’

'I’m not hiding anything.' Daen replied in clipped tones and consciously relaxed her stance trying to appear more at ease. Naked and lit by the glow of the moon she appeared as fragile as a porcelain figure, and yet strong and powerful as only an aroused woman can look. Daen didn’t move, watching him as he watched her when she spoke her voice held a richer note to it. ‘My Lord do you want me to held you undress?’

The offer took him off guard and it was with a supreme effort, he forced himself to stand and not pounce on her, simply pulling his breaches down and impaling here then and there. ‘Come here.’ He said huskily.

Daen forced herself to take it slowly, unfastening the leather buckles that held the plate armour together until he stood in just his shirt, boot’s and breaches. Her fingers had tickled along his groin while she unfastened his cuisses on his legs where they joined to his fauld causing him to suck in a breath of air, and the muscles of his taught stomach twitching away from her cool digits. Her hands ran up his muscular thighs, exploring, worshiping even. When she sank down upon her knees to undo his grieves she glanced up to watch him watching her from under lowered lashes, his eyes a sliver of silver in the dark. Darcia himself tore off his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. Pale skin, paler than hers even, smooth save the few scars that marred its perfection like lightning bolts in the sky; scars from battles as yet unforgotten, and unforgiven. Keeping his eyes on her face, Darcia carefully unfastened his trousers and let them drop, stepping out of his clothes gracefully, elegantly, pleased his thighs were not trembling with what he had in mind.

He heard her catch her breath and wondered if she’d ever seen an aroused man quite as closely as now with the proof of his desire scant inches from her face. Smiling, he stood over her and let her look as long as she liked. It helped to salve the burning need. When she unconsciously licked her lips making them glisten like ripe fruit he bit back a groan. Her face flushed and he smirked again when she glanced uncertainly up at him. He didn’t know if she was frightened or not and he honestly didn’t care. ‘Touch me,’ he whispered, demanding.

She hesitated; he darted forward and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his shaft. Daen’s warm fingers wrapped around him and he gently guided her to explore him. As she grew a bit bolder, he dropped her wrist and sighed when she brought her other hand to touch him. He was wondering how to approach the next subject when the little witch surprised him by licking along his length. Inexperienced and tentative, she caressed the smooth, hard shaft with her tongue, laving it and kissing until she heard a growl come from deep in his throat. He bucked against her hands which were now on his hips, and she glanced up in surprise. ‘Take it in to your mouth little one.’

She coked a brow archly at him, before tentatively opening her mouth and letting his length slide in to her hot wet cavern, bumping against her teeth. Darcia was in ecstasy. His hands clenched her hair tightly about his fingers, but he avoided tugging on it lest it distract her from the job in hand. It was not perfect, she didn’t have the skill that some his previous lovers had, but the enthusiasm she put in to the act more than made up for that. ‘Oh little one!’ He panted. ‘Yes like that, just like that.’ He groaned as she bobbed up and down on his shaft, swirling her nimble tongue about its sensitive head.

Darcia’s body was insisting that he find release and now. But he still had some control over his instincts and as ever Lord Andras Darcia demanded that his will be stronger than his need. And right now as tempting as spilling his seed in her welcoming mouth was he wanted to take her, and take her hard.

Daen almost panicked at the feral look in his eyes. ‘Turn around’ He ordered, his voice so harsh that she almost couldn't understand him. She was frozen, unable to move, and fascinated by the way his eyes were argent in the pale light, how the shadows played across his face. Sometimes the sex was a little rough but he'd never hurt her before and she was willing to trust him.

‘I said, turn around,’ Darcia snarled, reaching down his hand an iron grip on her shoulder baring her about. She trembled; Darcia sank down behind her then his knees pressing between her thighs spreading them either side of his. The noble pressed his silken lips to the back of her neck, kisses like the gentle fall of rain, a strange counterpoint of sensation to the unyielding grip of his hand on her hip guiding her and after a moment of fumbling for her entrance, sheathed himself inside her. He was hard, thick, and filling her completely to the very hilt.

This was not going to last long he thought as he thrust in to her with abandon. His hand slid about her waist, and his fingers found the petals of her sex as the other griped her bouncing breast. Daen moaned softly arching her back, her hands reaching up to burry themselves in his hair as if to hold him there, he could tell by her mewing pants that she was succumbing totally to his ministrations. Bherith was suddenly in his mind his voice insistent. ‘The spirits are dispersing!’

‘Not now.’ Darcia snarled at him.

Bherith seeing his master was otherwise occupied wisely retreated. The noble lord loved how Daen’s body was pressed close to his, he thrust harder growling endearments and encouragements in her ear, and soon he came violently with a low groan. He held Daen who was still trembling in his arms, his hot body against hers. Numb with pleasure for a moment the thoughts and feelings that had been pushed to the back of his mind by desire flooded back. He felt that he had missed something important. ‘Bherith?’ He called.

The demon duly summoned answered wasting no words. ‘The spirits cleared for a moment. But they are thickening again. But more importantly the prisoners are gone, along with their demon sword!’

‘What?!’ Darcia sat up hastily. ‘What do you mean gone.’

‘Gone as in not here anymore. I saw them just now, about four miles from here but the spirits came back again a moment again and I lost them.’
‘Well find them again!’

‘I can’t, not with all this interference you know that!’ Bherith responded.

Darcia’s nimble mind quickly came to a conclusion. He watched at the girl set about collecting up their clothing from the grass. ‘Bherith has just informed me that your brother has escaped.’ The girl’s naked back tensed. Darcia frowned; he now had a good idea why the spirits had descended upon them. He had suspected it the minuet that they had began forming unnaturally that something smoky was going on. There were perhaps a handful of people including himself in Bala who could summon such a cloud of spiritual energy, Daen was his principle suspect, however he thought that perhaps she was just experimenting and gave her the benefit of the doubt. Now his fears had been confirmed.

‘You helped them didn’t you?’ He asked more calmly than he felt as he stood. ‘You called down the spirits to hide them from me and the others. I expect that even this little show was a way to distract me. Well bravo I never thought you had the cunning!’

‘It’s not like that...’The woman gaped, kneeling naked before him she crossed her arms across her chest as if to protect herself from him.

‘Then what exactly are you doing out here when I told you not to get involved.’He said a dangerous edge to his voice.

‘I just didn’t want to watch my little brother die!’ Daen cried out. ‘Please my lord just let him go.’

‘Do not presume to tell me what to do little one!’ He barked a he grabbed her arm pulling her up to face him. ‘I ask so little of you and this is how you repay me?’

‘I’m sorry.’ She mumbled. ‘I just…’

‘Sorry, sorry!…Your not as sorry as I will make you my girl!’ A quick yank brought her closer, close enough that her panicked breaths were warm against his face. ‘You will close your mind right away you foolish girl, and I will retrieve your brother myself!’

She shook her head wildly.

‘Stop it right now.’ Darcia demanded, one hand sliding up the back of Daen's neck to cup the base of her skull. The fingers tightened, holding her in place. She gasped as Darcia violently yanked her head back, forcing her to meet his burning silver orbs. ‘I'm in no mood for niceties little one.’ Daen shivered as Darcia spoke against her ear, ‘If you do not stop your magicing at once, Daen, I'll turn you inside out.’ A warning tingle traveled down her arm like a static shock. Her eyes widened at the threat, she had not forgotten the pain he was capable of inflicting upon her with his own special brand of magic. ‘I see you remember.’ He purred dangerously. ‘Stop what you’re doing now little one and I might let you off easily.’

‘No.’ she said finding it hard to get the word past her throat.

‘I swear you know better than to disobey me!’ Darcia growled his breath smelled of thunder and lightning. She felt a sharp jolt of pain run along her arm, down her spine and along to her toes, like an ant bite all allover. It was quick a second perhaps but it left her gasping. ‘Perhaps I should turn you over my knee, that made you behave last time didn’t it?’

‘I’m not a little girl. You can not threaten me with that.’ Daen replied, not entirely certain herself if that was true.

‘I'll make you feel like one if you don’t stop, Daen. ‘And then ‘I'll take you so hard you'll think it's your first time again.’ Daen blushed at the threat, her body tensing for flight or fight. ‘This is your last chance.’

‘I can’t, please just let him go…..’ Her pleading fell of deaf ears as jolt after jolt of pain wracked through her body. Lord Darcia was merciless he held her tight against him, his arms holding her up as wave after wave of nauseating agony pulsed along her limbs. The whole time he told her to stop, but stubbornly she left herself open.

Darcia couldn’t watch the woman’s face as it contorted in torment, he closed his own eyes tight, grimacing. It was an unusual form of magic, Bherith had taught him it. By sending your own energy along certain pressure points on another’s body you could cause terrible pain, it was like healing magic backwards. The demon sword when he had been trying to tame him had used such methods against young Darcia, so he knew how it felt. It was like been burnt alive, but it could be unending as it did not actually damage anything. True torment. The girl shudders and arched against him, clawing at his chest. He hated what he was doing to her but her stupid stubbornness fuelled his anger. He drew on it trying to find the will to continue. ‘Please just give in don’t make me do this to you.’ He prayed in his mind.


She had to be dying. If this escalation of pain wasn't leading towards that final rest, she would find a way to guide it there. It was unbearable. ‘Make it stop,’ she whispered, her voice ragged with pain.

‘What was that, little one?’ Darcia’s low sardonic voice was close by her ear.

‘Please stop this,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady and failing miserably. she didn't know why she was pleading with Lord Darcia. After all he was the one causing this searing agony along Daen's nerves.

If she wanted it to end she had to give over Leoff to justice, and by the mother she could not do that, it was all part of the grate balance, she told herself, someone had to be punished for his actions and she would sacrifice herself willingly. But Oh it hurt!

Darcia’s body was flush against hers, his arms pinioning her in as she squirmed and gasped like a fish out of water her eyes wide and ghastly. With her mind open and his magic entering her penetrating her body he could not help but reveal something of himself to her. ‘Stop, just stop!’ she whispered. she struggled trying to get her hands up to cover her ears as if she could block any of it out. The pain that he felt wasn't just hers anymore, it was his as well but she wished desperately that she could take it into herself and spare her Lord from whatever it was that tortured him. It wasn't right for such a strong man to be brought to his knees like this. She didn’t understand the feelings that seeped in to her unguarded mind, the self-hate, the fear and disgust she was afraid to imagine what had caused them. Was it her?

Much to her shame Daen found it increasingly difficult to keep her pain to herself, she was cracking. Desperate voices whispered in her mind, ‘Don’t let him hurt you, we will help you!’ They screamed at her, for they to felt her pain. ‘Throw him off defend yourself!’

‘No.’ She replied to them, ‘stay away, let him be!’

‘Please....Make it stop. Make it ‘ she ground her teeth against a moan mindless, delirious ‘Oh goddesses please help ....make it stop. It hurts so much...’ This last ended on a pathetic whimper, but she was past feeling ashamed. It hurt too much for that, though the physical pain was not half as bad as the torment of knowing that it was Darcia inflicting the pain, nor knowing that she deserved it.

He felt his anger start to break apart. Now he was reduced to terrorizing young women, he felt disgusted by himself. He looked down at his hands like unclean things. His rage, so long denied and shut away, had overtaken him, engulfed him with a scalding burn. For a moment, he’d succumbed to the darkness that lurked in his soul, darkness that came with using unnatural powers, that accursed rouge blood, the bit of his nature that knew only fury and desire to conquer, his own personal demons quite apart from Bherith.

It had felt good to have her so helpless in his arms, so good he was hard as a rock, his erection straining against the crotch of his breaches. It had filled him with need to tear into her soft flesh, penetrate her vulnerable body and just fuck her until she lay unmoving beneath him. But just for an instant, he’d recalled her face contorted with pleasure not pain. How he loved that, how he loved her so deeply that her betrayal was like a literal knife to his chest.

He let her go and she sank to the floor to knell wearily at his feet. That fact that she had not passed out completely was a testament to her growing strength. Last time he had used his power upon her she had been knocked out cold. He glared at Daen’s shuddering back, he expected to feel some satisfaction from his actions, some kind of appeasement for his sorrow. But seeing the young witch curled up in pain only made Darcia feel ill. He was a bastard, but he was not evil. What Daen had done was awaken the dark beast of his nature, bringing to the surface memories so painful they were like pins in his brain. She had provoked his wrath but she did not deserve this.
‘Leave now before I reconsider.’

She looked up uncomprehending. ‘What?’

‘I’m going to go find your brother. I have wasted enough time with you.’ He turned his back on her set on gathering together his armour. She was to close, he didn’t know what he was going to do to her, kill her or kiss her.

‘Lord Darcia.’ She called.

He sighed thinking ‘what now?’ The girl ran up to him he was furious did she really think that the topic was up for discussion. He looked up Daen approached him, she was still naked baring all for him to see, her bare skin, and all of her emotions, the confusion and the torment. The way her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Seeing her like that her hand outstretched to him made him want to take her in his arms tenderly, holding her close, protecting her from harm. He laughed bitterly at himself, for who had been the one not a moment ago torturing her. ‘Get dressed.’ He demanded tersely and went back to dressing.

Daen had begun with staggering steps to pick up her clothing Darcia watched her in silence. An odd realization was forming in the nobles mind. Daen could have used her magic to stop his torturing her but she did not. Darcia had no idea why, but the decision was obviously deliberate. A long silenced voice inside Darcia’s mind finally spoke up. ‘You know why she did not she, thinks he deserves this. She welcomes your punishment.’

He caught her and pulled her flush against his chest in a painfully hard grip. She filched at his touch, expecting more pain. He looked down in to her eyes, deep green pools; trembling like leafs in the breeze. She was frightened, but there was determination too. Darcia throbbed with passion and violence and need so strong that Daen started to regret her decision not to flee like he had told her to.The desire to conquer erupted inside him, the need to claim her completely. It had already been simmering in his mind for days, angry and hot-cold, slowly eating into him like an infected wound in his very soul.


Her stomach rubbed against his still hard desire, the softness of her skin against its flat head made him let out a soft ‘hmm,’ noise strangely that calmed her and she relaxed under his touch. That was fine, he really didn’t want her to panic. He couldn’t stop now if he wanted to and already, deep in the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong, that it would only confuse her further and he could offer no explanation for his actions.

So much desire, dark and potent. Daen ached with the force of it. Her teeth closed over a dusky nipple and bit down, forcing a cry from her Lord’s lips. Pain and pleasure rippled through both of them, sharing feelings and sensations like hot and cold currents of air swirling together, causing friction, building and condensing in to something tangible, a storm.

Sinking down on his knee he licked her most intimate area and then blew softly until Daen whimpered. He began to suckle furiously on that sensitive bundle of nerves only to watch with some amusement at how her knees buckled. He decided that this position left something to be desired, firstly because the young woman looked fit to swoon, and secondly he couldn’t really watch her reaction to his ministrations.

Darcia laid the girl across his lap, holing her there tightly, his one hand upon her throat applying only enough pressure to keep her there but not strangle her. His other hand was more gainfully employed with two of his fiendish digits thrusting in to her tight passage. His eyes were narrowed as he watched her writhe against him her eyes tightly closed. He put his lips to her ear. ‘Moan for me,’ he demanded, rubbing harder with his thumb. Darcia was so hard he was afraid he would burst at any moment just watching her venerable and trembling on his lap, but he wanted this one thing. ‘Moan, little one. Don't hold it in. Let me hear it. Open your mouth and cry out for me.’

Daen’s face was flushed with colour, her pupils dilated with lust. She glared up at Darcia but it only served to stoke the fire raging in her dark Lord’s blood. ‘Stop it,’ Daen gasped. ‘You know what I have done and you still…..Oh….I cannot bare it! Stop!’

‘Not until I say so,’ Darcia growled, the sight of the young woman in the throws of passion at his hands slowly driving him out of his mind. Daen closed her eyes and threw her head back. Darcia’s mouth caught the moan before it left Daen’s lips, consuming it as he dropped her to the grass, rolling on to her violently trembling body his fingers never leaving off teasing her.

Darcia plunged his tongue into her open mouth. Daen tasted of the night and secrets. Darkness, maybe that was what attracted him to her, she was still a mystery, as unknown as the deepest parts of the lake. He was angry at her, there was no doubt about that, in face he was furious. But that had translated in to a demanding lust, the urge to concor, the urge to make her submit to him completely, to master her, and he would do that with pleasure. She would have it burned indelibly in to her mind that he ruled her, that he alone could with the softest of touches have her beg him, pled and be utterly helpless, subject to his will, and what’s more she would enjoy it!



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Darcia ducked his head to bite at Daen’s chest. She shuddered, her entire body quaking as her dark lord marked her pale skin. Little sounds escaped her that were not quite moans, not quite gasps. They drove Darcia mad, he could feel that Daen was still trying to resist this how could he touch her when he hated her, but even if she wouldn't voice her passion yet, Darcia felt it in the waves of sensation that spilled from her mind, her body seeming to give off a faint iridescent light.

Daen suddenly found herself on her back, legs in the air she flinched, feeling him press against her entrance, slicking the head of his desire between her folds before he knelt over her pushing her legs up. She stared up at him, lips slightly parted and quite transfixed by his burning eyes.

Darcia’s comforting weight dropped on her, using his shoulder to press her knees to her chest and she cried out when he finally bore down, shoving deep into her body searing thrust. Daen cried out again even louder when he pulled back and penetrated again with less resistance.


Satisfied and hearing the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, Darcia lost himself in the moment. Her legs bounced against his shoulders, knees held tight to her body pinned by his weight. Crouching over her, driving into her, he barely heard her cries as he thrust angrily. Her hands flailed at him, grabbing his inky hair and yanking with each rough penetration. Desire spiraled out from him in heady waves as Daen’s voice shifted, getting louder as the sensations seared her over sensitive nerves.

Darcia shifted down so that his elbows were braced against the floor giving him more leverage to really lay in to her, his forearm slid under her shoulder as his fist clenched in the back of her silky hair. Not that she was fighting him anymore, she'd already come five times that night and he was guessing that she could handle quite a bit more. That was good. He had no intention of stopping.

His hips slammed into hers and Daen gasped and cried out, her voice rising as his lust overwhelmed her again. She was going to pass out this time exhausted, but she lifted her hips to meet each of his manic thrusts, and swore that it was unfair that her dark lord had this kind of stamina. Catching the taste of his lust, Daen’s tired and ill used body answered his, craving more and clawing at his back and shoulders, her small, sharp nails raking over the smooth skin and taut muscles drawing blood.

Darcia knew he was reaching his peak and kept his hand clamped on her arm. His head fell forward to rest against her back as he gave it to her as hard as he could. Daen was mewling under him, whimpering and moaning, sobbing almost but not in pain or fear. ‘ Lord Darcia!’ she gasped out his name, twisting under him and desperate. Her body aching, but the sweet torment only washed over her in waves.

‘Yes,’ he growled lustily, realizing she was ready to come for the last time that night.
Daen went blind. She saw nothing but whiteness, heard nothing but the torrential roar of her own blood in her ears. But four words broke though to her brain: ‘Come for me, Daen.’ Those words and the stroke of his shaft over the sensitive bundle of nerves within her griping channel made Daen scream out hoarsely. Her body exploded into a million, shimmering stars. Ecstasy thundered through her, leaving her shaken and weak, certain she had died.

It inflamed him to hear her cry out so never had she screamed out her pleasure like she had just now, moving rough and fast, grunting like a beast as he slammed his hips against hers, her body raw until she screamed out his name again when he came hard inside her letting out a mighty roar.

Suddenly dizzy, he collapsed on top on her like he’d lost whatever was left of his strength. He let her legs slide down moaning when his spent desire slipped from her body. Daen was panting hard, her eye only half opened, in the pale dawn light they were the colour of the leafs above. Her face bright as she tried to get air into her straining lungs. He was satisfied that she was breathing. With a sigh her eyes fluttered closed.

He stood to stretch the cramp out of his thighs and the small of his back. His body felt marvellously languorous, godlike. He stood naked, watching the sun rise on a new day coming back to himself after rutting as mindlessly as an animal for the nights duration. There was blood on the young woman’s thighs. And he could taste blood in his mouth where she had bit his lip overenthusiastically. Darcia reached down to touch her parted lips. Daen was already unconscious, sprawled limply where he’d left her. She’d probably sleep the day away. Giving him time to think over what to do. Her brother and his companions would be long gone by now just as she had wanted.

He scowled he was angry now that his passion was truly spent, angry that she had deceived him, angry that she would risk her own mind do recklessly, angry that she did not trust him, angry that she made him question himself, angry that she could touch him with such loving eyes while harbouring such decet in her breast. That with the same lips that she had kissed him with she told him lies. It cheeped everything that they had shared together! How could she.

He threw on his armour, inventorying the various wrongs she had done him. A small part of him prayed she would not awaken for right now he needed someone or something to vent his spleen on. He was not so fortunate as Daen stirred hearing the sharp clink of metal. The woman sat up, in the rosy light of morning he could see the dark bruises on her body. The finger prints on her wrist, on her legs and her hip, even about her creamy shoulders. She had unleashed that in him, and now he felt stricken by shame, and that made him angry. Everything about the whole situation made him angry. Was this how it was going to be from now on, anger, passion to but tainted by guilt. He could not bare it if that was so!

Daen tried to move her stiff and aching body but then lay still. ‘It hurts.’ She whimpered.

Yes, it does. He thought bitterly.

Daen woke in degrees memories of the night before came rushing back in no particular order. She tried to sit up again, everything hurt, every single muscle, including things so deep inside that she had no idea how Darcia had managed to bruise them. ‘My Lord?’ She called in a croaky voice. ‘My Lord I....’

Daen covered her face with her hands. ‘I saw things, I saw some of your memories, well not exactly your memories but your feeling about something’s.’ She looked up emotion swirling in her eyes. Whatever she wanted to say he did not want to hear it, he did not need her pity, tough the lonely little boy in him wanted to fall at her feet and weep, Just how venerable he was to her right now terrified him.

‘It was nothing.’ He scowled and continued to glare furiously at her, as Daen went on recklessly. ‘From what I saw last night there is some old pain you've got simmering in your head, a seething shadow.’

‘Daen be quiet.’ He pleaded.

‘But My lord..’

‘Enough. I have had enough of you.’ His eyes met hers lest she mistake his seriousness.

She looked confused, startled even. ‘But the why did you...last night we...I thought’ Her voice went smaller and smaller when he did not answer her.

‘Your mine, I own you. I can use you as I see fit remember that.’ He said finally, watching as she visibly flinched at his stinging words.

‘You don’t mean that... You cared about....you can’t....’ She started.

‘Oh but I do.’ he hissed. ‘I pity no one, and I care for no one. You were the one who brought this upon yourself when you betrayed me. Now I have to remind you of your rightful place under me. Preferably with no clothes.’ He watched her face contort with shock, if he had slapped her she would have looked less mortified. He cursed himself, why must he always hurt those who hurt him! Why when he loved did it always end in vengeance, why did he feel compelled to bite back so hard on his anger? It was too late to take back now; he could never unsay those words.

Daen could hardly handle what Darcia was saying, as every word he spoke pierced her through her heart, over and over again. Her hurt was so great, she never noticed the way Darcia’s voice had broke with emotion.

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Daen did everything she could to hold back the burning tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She watched as he dressed himself, and then threw her night gown at her. ‘Get dressed and go back to the palace I have work to attend to.’ Shakily she nodded.


He walked her back to the plaice, though she could barley walk, limp was a more accurate description, they avoided the passages in which they were likely to be spotted. Without a word he left her in their chambers. ‘We will talk when I get back this evening, you will stay here until then and think on what you have done.’ He said his voice flat. As he needed to remind her to think on what she had done! When he left she felt deathly cold. Daen could not bring herself to lie down on the bed. How could she lay down wretched creature that she was on a place that held so many good memories. She drifted about the room like a spector unable to rest. After a while she herd a knock at the door it was Veione.

‘Filly? Are you awake?’

Daen went to go back in to the bed room running for the door, but Veione eagle -eyed, on entering hadn’t missed the tears that were running down her face.

Daen stood her back to the door she had just slammed shut in Veione’s concerned face, her palms flat against it.

Veione followed her and stood outside the door he knocked softly. ‘Filly?’

‘Go away!’

‘Filly come down to breakfast.’

‘Lord Darcia told me to stay here.’ She answered quietly.

Veione put two and two together, he had seen Darcia with a face like someone had spat on his mother this morning. The small glimpse of Daen he had seen had shocked him, she had looked treble, assaulted, livid blue bruises had stood out on her to pale skin, wide red rimed haunted eyes. She and Darcia must have quarrelled, and he could guess about what. ‘Daen, come out and talk, I think I know what this is about. Lord Darcia he found out didn’t he?’

‘Yes.’ Her voice was so very, very quiet.

Just what had Darcia done to the girl? He knew his lord well, known him from boyhood he didn’t think that Darcia was capable of hitting a woman. Darcia would never hit someone weaker than he was. But what if Veione was wrong? ‘Daen just what did he do to you.’

‘Pease go, just go Veione.’


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Veione had been persistent in trying to cox her out, but after a while gave up. Daen waited until she was sure that he had gone. She did not want to face any of her friends today, but she no longer wanted to be alone, she needed advice. The high priestess, she thought and s set out for the temple.

‘I deserved it,’ Daen sobbed, feeling tears slide down her cheek as the pain sank in. ‘I deserve everything. Everything I touch is ruined. Anyone who cares for me is hurt, even Lord Darcia.’ she couldn't stop herself. It was as though her tongue had a mind of its own. she felt her own coherency slipping away rapidly as tears began to fall in earnest.

The High priestess held her, stroking her tangled hair. She looked as though he were angry with what Daen was saying. It didn't stop Daen from talking though, nor crying. Nothing could stop the self condemnation that poured from her lips. ‘My family still hunt me and I don't even know why. I must be evil somehow. I killed Zabi because she flirted with Koto, and I killed my uncle Zadoc without even knowing how I did it. I ripped my family apart. I deserve to be punished for that. I deserve everything they did to me. It would be better they had killed me! I hurt everyone I am around, my brother and now.... Oh Gods, I saw it, I saw his pain, his feelings all because of me and now Lord Darcia will never forgive me! He told me ....’

‘What did he tell you.’

‘That I was nothing but his whore.’

‘He said that?’ The priestess looked scandalised, her eyes glancing at the safora slave band about Daen’s neck.

‘Not in those words.... he said i should remember who i belonged to, that i had been brought with good money.’

Her throat closed off as tears came faster obscuring her vision.

‘Susssh child come on. Come in the temple and you can tell me all presently.’



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‘Where is she?’ Darcia demanded.

The priestess stood primly. ‘Where is whom?’ She asked her voice curt but polite.

‘Don’t play games with me Priestess, you know i mean Daen. I want her right now!’ He arrogated as his eyes glanced about as if he thought that his searing gaze would destroy the walls between his pray and himself.

‘I do not think you should see her right now.’ The High Priestess responded, her pale eyes meeting the Duke unwaveringly.

‘What?’

‘You’re in a brute of a temper. She dose not deserve to be subjugated to that.’ She stated plainly.

‘She disserves to be punished. Do you have any idea of what she has done?’

‘Yes. I do.’ The Priestess answered her face hard. ‘Daen told me the as soon as she got here, though it took me a while to get the story through her tears. In my opinion she dose not deserve to be punished.

‘You opinion matters not. Only my opinion matters.’ He slammed his fist down on the table. The priestess did not flinch a muscle, she was as calm as a mother faced with a toddler throwing a tantrum. Her mien infuriated Darcia, he knew that expression of old, though he had not suffered it since boy hood.

‘Actually Andras.’ She said deliberately. ‘You presented her to the temple as a sybilla. As such she is under the direct protection of the goddesses Daer and Lloer. And as the High Priestess if I decide that you cannot see her then you cannot.’

Darcia looks taken aback for a moment, ‘She is mine, brought and paid for.’ He asserted finally leaning forward.

‘No she is not and the sooner you stop thinking of her in that way the better. She is not your toy, or your position. As a sybilla she is her own mistress. Traditionally it is her decisions that would rule yours, though she is far from been in that position presently. Andras a sybilla’s destiny is more important than a man’s wounded pride or desires, even yours. It will do neither you nor her any good for her to be afraid of you.’

‘She betrayed me; she betrayed all of the Marchadians!’

‘So sure?’ Her watery eyes scrutinised him. ‘She has betrayed no one that I can see. Her decision was probably not the wisest. But were I you I would trust her instincts. I have seen her brother, fate converges around him, he may be important in days to come. If he had stayed here he would have been killed.’ She looked reflective. ‘Andras, she was protecting her brother the last tie she has to her family. A fool can see how important family is to her, the way she collects people about her. That woman is desperate t get back what she has lost, even if she dose not know it.

‘I would not have killed him.’ Darcia scowled. ‘She could have trusted me.’

‘Andras you rarely explain any of your reasoning to anyone. You can be very arbitrary and it makes people nervous. How could she have known what you ment to do? Our family are well known for our ruthlessness. Your father he thought nothing of putting out eyes, or, castrating, rebellious members of his own family. And you though i know you had good reason not only imprisoned your own relatives for years at a time, but killed them by your own hand as well.’

‘You told the girl of this?’

‘Some things, about your cousin Lazare, and his father. She was going to find out, how could she not. Andras you say she dose not tell you everything, but it’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black.’ The priestess looked contemplative. ‘Andras she dose not think you any the worse for it. Daen admires your strict morality, she understands your burden, that’s why she did not want to force you to judge her brother. She knew he was guilty, and I think she knew you would perhaps be lenient on him for her sake, and she did not want that. To be the cause of a stain on your honour, she told me that she had been the stain on enough good men’s honour.’

‘She could have told me..’ He groused, he looked down at the table and his eyes spotted a familiar piece of jewellery. The saphora band he had placed about Daen’s neck. He picked it up presenting it angrily. ‘Why did you remove this?!’

‘Why? I should be asking why you put it on Daen in the first place? A pleasure slave band just what were you thinking? It makes it look like your keeping her as a sexual plaything? How she must feal about it i dread to think!’
‘It was not like that.’ He defended himself with frustration.

‘I should hope not!’ She exclaimed. ‘Andras, you cannot subjugate her to your will, though I have no doubt that you do it should you want to. Last night you hurt her badly, playing on all her little insecurities because you were angry, using her like that. You should know that she equates desire with love. You telling her that it was not the case simply to hurt her was a very cruel thing to do. I would suggest that next time you see her you have decided what you want your relationship to be with her. To have her in your bed, or to have her as a sybilla. You cannot have both it confuses to may lines, unless you wish to have her as an equal.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You have thought about it I’m sure. Andras you have made a mares nest of this it would have been better that you never perused her and just given her over to us.’ She fluttered her hands. ‘As it is to fulfil her roil, she would do it best standing by your side.’

‘My Bride.’

The priestess nodded.

‘I still want to see her. I promise not to lay a hand upon her if that is your worry.’

‘No.’ She shook her head mildly. ‘I know you Andras. Right now you are incapable of not harming her in some way or another.’

‘Murmuur.’ He growled, using the High Priestesses name.

It did not faze her. ‘I am willing to keep this a private family matter for now Andras. But if you insist I will make your behaviour towards her public. I’m sure you are not unawhere of how beloved she has become of late.’

‘Perhaps if they knew her as I did they would not...’

‘This is what I ment.’ The Priestess interrupted imperiously. ‘Your pride has been stung Andras that is all. I suggest that you gt over it. That woman loves you, more than a man like you probably deserves, she loves probably more than a person should love another. Daen is more fragile than she seems. Your mother gave up her barriers and tried to drown her broken heart in the multitude of voices when your father turned on her believing himself betrayed. Word’s alone nearly caused your mothers death. Words flung like stones. Will you repeat my brothers mistakes? For I swore that I would not see another Darcia harm someone like that again.’

Lord Darcia looked disquieted. He was still very angry but the priestess knew that the last few barbs had struck true. When he spoke his voice was cold, his emotions back under his control. ‘She will then remain here for the time being.’ It was not quite a question.

‘You would publicly slight her?’

‘It is for her protection while I am away.’ He answered blandly. ‘She can continue her studies uninterrupted.’

‘I will tell her you visited when she awakens.’

‘When she wakes?’

‘She thought you would come. She wanted to see you despite my trying to persuade her to the contrary. In any case I drugged her and have locked her in her room.’ The priestess looked up at the noble. ‘You know she would rather be in your presence when you hate her than not at all. Andras it is not just a ploy, there is a very really danger that she will go the way of your mother. As strong as she is, you have become her anchor, and she is still a very lonely creature, still very wounded.’

‘Like a cracked pot.’ He filled in using Umra’s description. ‘I have been warned before.’

‘Then I suggest that you heed a warning for once in your life.’ She studied the disquiet that was just beneath the surface of Darcia’s storm-less countenance, but she had known him since he was born, and had never seen him quite so put about. ‘You love her to. It destroyed the man your father was when he realised that the damage he had inflicted upon your mother was irreparable, he turned that deep grief in to anger, turning that upon everyone else he held dear, becoming a cold empty husk of a man, you know what I speech of.’

‘I do.’

She smiled. ‘I suspect your surprised to discover that you have a heart Andras.’ He did not answer that last rejoinder, but briskly excused himself.



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Darcia brushed Per, it was soothing. Last night he had spent a lonely night in his bed his usually untroubled dreams uneasy. The horse relaxed under the rhythmic stroke of the brush it’s lower lip floppy. Sweep, sweep, and then the scratch of the curry comb as he cleaned it, over and over. He has inspected his troops, his kit inspection thorough and harsh, been in no mood for less than perfection. We are going to war. He told himself, I’m not just taking out my spleen on my men. He held back a grate deal, checking himself throughout the whole ordeal, for the sake of his mens moral. Now alone he had time to think, or avoid thinking about things, like Daen for instance. Though tempted to send men after her brother it was a senseless gesture, the young men would be hard to find and he did not have the men to spare on a fool’s errand. Bherith had told him that her brother’s sword was now awakening, that made him very dangerous, one never knew what would come of a demon’s re-emergence.

‘My Lord Duke.’ Veione called, his boot step crisp and purposeful. Veione only called him b his honorific when he was angry about something.

What now, Darcia mentally groaned and put his brushes to the side. ‘What do you want Veione?’

‘Why are you treating Filly in that way?’

‘Veione what are you talking about?’ Lord Darcia sighed wearily.

‘The girl, you are been twelve kinds of bastard to the girl, and for no good reason! I saw her yesterday she looked like a rape victim! And what do you mean by leaving her with the priestesses?’

Darcia’s back was up ‘And what has it got to do with you captain, she is mine what I do with her is my business alone.’

‘I’m aware of that my lord.’ He practically spat out the my lord bit as if it were a piece of nasty gristle. ‘She is my friend, and I know your not half the monster that you are pretending to be. I know you’re a cold hard kind of basted but you have never been heartless.’

‘Heartless, right now I wish I was.’ He laughed a desperate edge to it.

‘Andras.’ Veione very really called him by his first name, not since they were boys. Veione’s blue eyes met his squarely his face so rarely serious was now deadly so. ‘Did you hit Filly?’ Darcia was shocked, he would never.... He must have worn his affront openly as Veione looked relieved. ‘I didn’t think you would, I just had to check. The bruises..’

‘Bruises...I did use her very hard last night, but is ware it was in passion, though I know not what demon possessed me last night!’ Darcia admitted. ‘I said some terrible things to her, things just to wound. I may as well have hit her. Oh by the gods I have made such a mess of the whole thing Veione!’

‘We all do from time to time.’ Veione said. ‘I warned her about your tempers.’

‘She was never going to pay heed to that.’

‘No,’ Veione smiled. ‘She never does.’

‘There’s no time.’ Darcia said. ‘No time to make things right we leve in two hours and the Priestess will not let me anywhere near her.’

‘Auntie Murmmer can be very scary.’ Veione agreed knowingly.

‘And cunning.’ Darcia looked rueful. ‘Still she has helped me many times. I suppose that I must trust her judgement for the time being.’

‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder eh?’

‘No, just time to know my own heart better.’

Veione looked at his cousin as he had not for a long time, looking at the man and not his lord. ‘I think you already know it.’ Veione said, and left it at that.


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Daen woke, her head felt thick, heavy like she was thinking through wool. Everything had a feverish quality to it. She looked out of the window, the over cast light made it difficult to work out what time it was. The eire mournful sound of a cornicula horn was blown before bells began to ring across Bala, the grate bells rand to a tune that Daen did not recognise but knew instinctively to be the call to arms. She had to see Darcia before he left for the south. She wanted nothing more than a glimpse, just something. Whatever the priestess had sneaked in to her drink had lulled her in to a deep and dreamless sleep. To her wearily soul the restbite had been welcome. However it also lead to an interesting discovery, that some of the misery that she had been feeling had not been entirely her own, The drug had severed her mind off, and when she awake she had her barriers instinctively in place. Some of the mental anguish, the guilt and the self hate had not been hers but Lord Darcia’s.

She still felt sore all over. But it was better this morning. Pulling on one of the long concealing temple robes Daen set about finding a means of escape. The door was bolted, but the window was not. She was only one story up, and she was a Nhamian, Nhamian’s are not afraid of climbing.

Still a bit dizzy it was with care rather than haste that Daen scrabbled down the ornate stone work of the temple dormitory and then stole out of the grounds to join the growing crowds gathering to send off their men. Daen jostled through the massing group of onlookers, mothers, children, wife’s , lovers and friend’s all lining the streets, or looking from windows and rooftops.

She made her way to the plaice along the wide rampart that ran around the whole city to where it overlooked the plaices grate gate that held the bell tower, in the vast square before it stood in lines Darcia’s own heavy cavalry, then behind them Veione’s regular cavalry, Kef was already mounted his infantry to the right all looking sombre and dignified. Drums began to beet a steady rhythm. She ran down the stairs to where the square, and once again jostling in the crowd made her way towards the grate gate.

Passing beneath the lofty arch way was Lord Darcia, in his full armour, flanked by Veione and Timor. Behind them was Alwen. The three older men were imposing to behold. Their long cloaks just skimming the ground behind them. Poppy petals began to drift down as well wishers in the bell tower began to scatter them from above. Daen started forward only to find that the crowd parted before her in recognition. She broke in to a little run and despite his armour caught her lord in a desperate hug. Lifting his visor before he could protest or even react she pressed her lips to his. She had no words for him, only a sound like a sob as she retreated and receded back in to the crowd. ‘Leve it there,’ Daen thought, ‘a last kiss we won’t regret.’ She ran back up on to the ramparts, going swiftly to where she could best watch him depart.

The men road with dignity through the city streets. It was solem pageantry with trumpets, bells, drums and a rain of poppy petals, like sweet smelling blood. Darcia looked up instinctively finding Daen, he had been surprised by the kiss she had given him but he would keep it like a knight’s favour, holding it until he could give it back to her. She stood up on the arch above him, apart from the crowd, leaning with one hand upon the pillar, still as a statue watching him like a legendry forlorn maiden awaiting her lover who would never return a tragic heroine. There was a pale tan line about her neck where the safora band had lain, but was no more. There was nothing now to mark her as his but the multitude of love bits and burses that were hidden under the long lose gown she wore, they would fade. Would he to fade in her mind? By the god’s he could not stand the thought of her forgetting him, forgetting the love that they shared, that they could once more share again.

It was a sudden impulse, but Darcia did not check himself. He lifted his hand to his mouth, ‘Daen!’ he called out. ‘Catch.’ She startled. With a grim smirk he pulled off his signet and then tossed it high in the air to her the sun glinting off it like the flash of an ember in an up-draught.

The astonished woman caught it easily. Opening her palm she saw her Lord’s heavy seal ring, a band of gold, and the black raven on a sealed of red. She had never seen him without it. The inscription upon it caught her eye, written in Aryan an almost forgotten language, but Daen recognised the words, ‘Ewyllysio Clywodraet.’ ‘I will conquer.’ Her hand trembled as she closed her fingers around it.

She looked down at her Lord, her face the picture of surprise. ‘I will return.’ He called, a promise or a threat she did not know. With a ‘hah.’ He spurred Per on, his larger Warhorse being lead by a groom so that it would not be tired when battle came. ‘Farewell.’ She wisped on the wind. Perhaps it was just a fancy but she thought she saw his head turn slightly as if catching a sound.