DarkFyre Chapter Fifteen
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Rael sat at the long, ornate dinner table in the main dining hall with his long legs stretched out before him, leaning back in his chair as he rolled a small apple around in his hand. Selm, his whiskers newly trimmed and looking determined, watched him quietly, waiting for the young Nobleman to speak.
The Knight had fully expected to have some distractions when he arrived home. He hadn’t been to IronWing Manor in a long time, and so much was left undone from his father’s death. He’d even found himself glad for the excuse to return, pleased at the prospect of seeing his old home and seeing to some odds and ends that surely needed his attention.
Silmaria’s heart beat violently, thudding unpleasantly in her breast. As the men stepped into their small camp she swallowed and fought to ignore the rising tide of panic threatening to drown her entirely. There were half a dozen of them, all armed and stepping with the confident, easy swagger of men who were comfortably acquainted with a great many kinds of violence. Dark eyes roved over her. She saw a flare of desire here, a glint of lewd interest there. Mostly, they looked curious, and...
NovelsThe next morning was mild, if not as clear and sunny as the day before. Clouds hung in a haze over the sky, drab and dreary and promising cold and snow to come, but all in all it was a favorable day for the middle of a Dale winter. Rael was sitting against a wall in an alley mouth, studying the grand building across the street. He was on the opposite end of Trelling’s Rest, right in the heart of the Palace District, watching the Hall of Valor, home and seat of power for the Knight Brotherhood...
NovelsDarkFyre Chapter Seventeen The bear pelt was heavy and warm. Strange, to think that the pelt and meat were keeping them alive and comfortable after the bear had nearly killed him. There was a sort of grim irony in that, he supposed, but it was lost in the relief of being alive, the exhaustion of his ordeal, and the wonder of the woman in his arms. Rael stared down at Silmaria. She slept for now, a deep, peaceful sleep with her face pressed to his solid chest, one small hand resting on his...
DarkFyre Chapter Eighteen The next day, Rael was a busy man. Silmaria sat back and watched him with a sort of amused fascination. After a long night of rest, Rael was renewed and overflowing with energy and robust health. They’d discussed with disappointment how much of the bear meat was going to go to waste as its spoiling became eminent, but Rael gave a good effort at consuming as much of it as possible that morning. Silmaria was shocked and very nearly appalled, and couldn’t quite keep...
DarkFyre Chapter Seventeen The bear pelt was heavy and warm. Strange, to think that the pelt and meat were keeping them alive and comfortable after the bear had nearly killed him. There was a sort of grim irony in that, he supposed, but it was lost in the relief of being alive, the exhaustion of his ordeal, and the wonder of the woman in his arms. Rael stared down at Silmaria. She slept for now, a deep, peaceful sleep with her face pressed to his solid chest, one small hand resting on his...
NovelsThe next morning was mild, if not as clear and sunny as the day before. Clouds hung in a haze over the sky, drab and dreary and promising cold and snow to come, but all in all it was a favorable day for the middle of a Dale winter. Rael was sitting against a wall in an alley mouth, studying the grand building across the street. He was on the opposite end of Trelling’s Rest, right in the heart of the Palace District, watching the Hall of Valor, home and seat of power for the Knight Brotherhood...
The wilds of DarkFyre Dale were a raw, wretched place, and never more so than in the grip of winter. For the first few days they traveled mostly through the open, sweeping meadows and plains of the western highlands. During the all too brief summer months the highlands were an entirely different place characterized by tall, lush green grasses swaying in the cool wind, speckled with notes of color from wildflowers. They teamed with small, secret life. Bees buzzing, drone-like and purposeful,...
In the late morning hours the sun shone bright and glorious on Trelling’s Rest. The overcast clouds of yesterday’s snowfall had fled in the face of a clear and temperate day, the sort of mild and cheerful day DarkFyre Dale rarely saw this deep into winter. The snow underfoot gleamed pristine white under the sunshine, a blanket of innocence and purity cast over the countryside, a beautiful thing to behold. The Bear’s Maw was Trelling’s Rest’s main gate and the site of the majority of traffic in...
The darkness of the cave was broken only by the small, flickering flames of Rael’s makeshift torch. It had spun off into the corner during the struggle with the bear and there it sat, dying. The flame was weak and feeble, yet it would not go out fully. It swirled, sputtering and pitiful, but it clung stubbornly to the torch and sent a tracery of shadows to sprawl in shapes and flittering figures grand and small along the icy stone walls. The shadows were dramas and tales and romantic battles,...
Rain fell in a sporadic icy deluge. No true storm, it was nonetheless a persistent enough spattering of ice and water to make the battleground a wet, slushy mess of melting ice, frigid wind, and watered down puddles of mud and fresh blood steaming in the dawning light. It was miserable conditions, even for the already miserable enterprise of war waging. But if the barbaric Haruke cared at all, they gave no sign. The warriors were far from the plains of their people, having journeyed east and...
The inn’s stillness and quiet was unnerving, the blackness of the halls and common room below an ominous contrast to the noise and bustle and light that should have been coming from downstairs this early into the night, just a few bare hours after sundown. Even with the flickering light of the candles at their bedside, the dark outside their room was so complete it left even her sharp eyes momentarily unable to pierce the gloom. The smell told her the danger first. Silmaria took a deep breath,...
NovelsEven as the evening crept on the heat was palpable, a smothering blanket of energy sapping misery, dry and acrid. The only reprieve from the heat was the caress of the wind sweeping down the crags and valleys and rock formations, swirling along the brief stretches of flatlands that reached out between the red stones, or whipping along jagged, flinty corners of standing stones, clustered cliffs, and miniature mountains. The wind whistled a plaintive lament through the land’s many cracks and...
NovelsThe mild weather snuck away in the night, setting the stage for their departure, to be a much more bitterly cold and uncomfortable affair. After sundown the temperature dropped until snow fell in a scintillating curtain of white, crystal-soft flakes. They danced along the wind, dazzling and fleeting in the moonlight as they did somersaults and dizzying spiral dives before collecting in a graceless mass grave all along the docks, their frantic, joyful celebration of cold and movement and life...
NovelsSilmaria’s heart beat violently, thudding unpleasantly in her breast. As the men stepped into their small camp she swallowed and fought to ignore the rising tide of panic threatening to drown her entirely. There were half a dozen of them, all armed and stepping with the confident, easy swagger of men who were comfortably acquainted with a great many kinds of violence. Dark eyes roved over her. She saw a flare of desire here, a glint of lewd interest there. Mostly, they looked curious, and...
Her eyes slowly opened, brilliant green wide eyes the color of emeralds or the green, green grass that grew in the gardens during the all too brief months of spring and summer. They were slitted. Like a cats, people would always say. Even after all this time, she couldn’t help roll her eyes when someone said that. It was so… cliché. Obvious. Obvious or not, it was still pretty accurate. Like a cats, Silmaria’s eyes were slitted, sure. They also saw incredibly well in the dark. The room was...
The mild weather snuck away in the night, setting the stage for their departure, to be a much more bitterly cold and uncomfortable affair. After sundown the temperature dropped until snow fell in a scintillating curtain of white, crystal-soft flakes. They danced along the wind, dazzling and fleeting in the moonlight as they did somersaults and dizzying spiral dives before collecting in a graceless mass grave all along the docks, their frantic, joyful celebration of cold and movement and life...
Silmaria was on her hands and knees in the drawing room on the west side of the Manor, scrubbing at the wooden floor with a soapy rag. She was not particularly in the best of moods, some idiot had tracked dirt into the room, which was made all the worse by the fact that no one ought to really have been in here in the first place. Of course, given how downhill the upkeep of IronWing Manor was these days, it wasn’t even noticed or addressed until several days later, when she got to be the lucky...
Master Edwin IronWing’s study smelled of oak and wood polish, and leather and old vellum. It was a spacious, open room. A huge window took up the north-facing wall, staring out over the planting fields to the north. In the distance the DrakeSpine Mountains set a breathtaking backdrop, with the crags stretching higher and higher, huge and ancient and enduring. Sitting at the foot of the window was a large lacquered desk of solid oak. The surface was cleaned and lovingly polished until it...
Rael still wasn’t sure he was making the right choice. He was torn between feeling he was abandoning his duty and honor, and the certainty that remaining here at the war camp meant it was only a matter of time before another assassination attempt came. He was no coward, to run from death. Yet at the same time, neither was he a fool. The unusual methods taken against him left him certain that he was dealing with no ordinary assassins, and that his chances of surviving another attempt were grim...
‘If ye can spare a moment, Milord, I’m ready to report.’ Rael looked up from a map covering the huge pinewood table in his tent. A variety of similar maps and charts were arrayed on the table and rolled into tubes propped against the desk. There were writing supplies and a sheaf of fresh paper at the Knight Captain’s elbow. StoneFingers was standing at the flap of Rael’s tent. The Dwarf looked like many of his brothers, short and stout, built like an anvil and twice as hard, with a short,...
A light knock sounded on his door the next morning. Setting aside the remnants of his breakfast, Rael wiped his mouth before rising and answering the knock, half expecting it to be Silmaria. Selm stood on the other side of the door instead. His Halfling advisor bowed low. “Apologies for disturbing your breakfast, Milord.” “It’s all right, Selm. No harm done. How can I help you?” “Milord, I believe we’ve found something that needs your attention.” Rael arched a curious brow. “What could need...
Never had the sun shone so bright and warming north of The Teeth before spring had even come. The breeze was chilling and sharp as it rolled off the mountains and swirled along the rise and fall of the open hilly country, but next to a lifetime of winters in the North, the breeze here was but a refreshingly cool caress. The wind touched everything. It combed through the flat plains to the south, teasing patterns from the high, dense grasses. Ripples and waves, and the constant, minute...
Wordless, Silmaria burst into motion, springing forward to dash down to her burning home. Or tried to, at least. Before she’d gone two strides, Lord Rael’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist in a grip like steel. He yanked her back toward him and growled softly into her ear, “Don’t be a fool. We don’t know what’s down there. Follow me and stay quiet! Keep low.” Though it galled her to be slow at all right then, Silmaria gave a reluctant nod and followed her Lord’s lead. Rael took...
When Silmaria came back to herself she was lying on a soft, large, comfortable bed. A bed that size should have been draped in silks and finery, but instead was covered in simple, practical sheets of cotton and a heavy, warm wool comforter. The glow of a fire and a number of candles cast shifting shadows and orange light against the ceiling and walls. Silmaria fought not to panic, she had no idea where she was. The Gnari girl sat up to get a better view of the room. It was a simple and...
The shop was claustrophobic. Despite the blustery cold outside, the room was oppressively hot. Four sooty wall sconces cast off a weak glow. The rest of the light came from two stone hearths in opposite corners of the room banked high with logs, radiating uncomfortable warmth. Several braziers were set around the room, adding to the heat. They threw off a heavy shroud of incense and scented smoke, cloyingly sweet. Behind the sweetness of the incense lingered a pervasive mustiness, the smell of...
“So what do you think?” Laura fumbled with a morsel on her plate, trying to skewer it with a fork.Her dexterity, or lack of it, amused Harry, “I think I need my head looked at.”That might have been closer to the truth last week than now. As the morsel submitted, Harry watched her place the fork into her mouth. Those beautiful full lips were somewhere else only a few days ago. His intuition, that inner voice, remained quiet for now yet Harry had plans for Laura.Looking upon her, he took some...
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