
05-12-2010, 08:39 PM
Here is the first chapter I have written. If anyone has any critiques, please give them. Also, if you want more, I have a bit more done. Here goes....
Chapter One
I. The Storyteller
She had heard the stories from the time she was a child. A band of demons known as Shadows of the Black Dagger once roamed the entire land, killing at will and drinking the blood of their enemies. They very nearly looked human until they transformed into monstrous creatures with membranous, bat-like wings. They were a legendary force that soon faded into frightening tales told at bedtime and around bonfires.
The clan had been destroyed over five hundred years ago as far as anyone could tell. No one was certain if the Shadows of the Black Dagger were truly gone or merely hiding. As it was told to her, there had been a great battle between the Black Daggers and another unknown army. After that, the Black Daggers had simply vanished from sight. There had been no sign of them for five centuries, and the valley they had plundered and fed from was living peacefully and prosperously.
Terra had only lived in the valley for five of her twenty-one years, and only lived in Rowanna Village for two. However, the story of the Black Dagger demons was a popular tale for the villagers, and Terra knew it nearly by heart. Sometimes, a handful of the village children would come to her small cottage near the forest and sit with her beside the creek to hear her spin the tale. They loved to hear her rendition, which wasn’t the nightmarish tale their parents had told them, but an exciting adventure. Her eyes would grow wide, her face expressive, and her voice would soar, or grow mournful. She was especially passionate when recounting the final battle, always imagining the handsome captain of the mysterious army as he dealt the deathblow to the demon lord.
She was sweeping her small porch when she noticed that Ian, one of the village boys that often visited her, was strolling up the path to her dooryard. He often came alone, but today he looked unsettled. She leaned the broom against her closed front door and walked to the porch railing, smoothing her long red skirt and black blouse. She raised her hand in greeting and smiled.
“Hello Ian,” she called, “What brings you by today? Have you come to listen to the story again?” He smiled back at her in a grim way, his eyes remaining untouched by his mirth.
“Good day, Lady Terra,” he said, “I hope you’re well.” She walked down the stone steps and met him in the yard. He stood with his shoulders slumped and his eyes drawn down.
“How many times have I told you?” she said gently, “Stop with this ‘Lady Terra’ nonsense. For you, it’s just Terra. Okay?” She saw a small smile bloom on his face.
“Sorry, Terra,” he said, “I’m just thinking about something.” She nodded.
“Anything serious?” she asked as she sat on the steps and motioned for him to join her.
“It’s serious to me,” he said as he sat next to her. He hung his head and curled his arms around his knees. “You’d probably think it was stupid kids’ stuff.” She smiled at him.
“You must be joking,” Terra said, “I live for kids’ stuff. I practically am a kid. I’m only twenty-one, you know. You can tell me anything. Promise I won’t laugh or make fun.” He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Do you swear?” he asked suspiciously. She solemnly placed her left hand in the air and crossed her heart with the right.
“I swear by the sun, stars, and moon that I will take any and all problems that you may have with the utmost seriousness,” she said. As an afterthought, she added, “I’ll try to help you, also.” He smiled at her for a moment, then his face crumpled and large tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Oh, Terra,” he cried, “You have to help me. I don’t know what to do or who else to ask.” She placed a hand on his quaking shoulder, concerned.
“What ever could have you so upset, Ian?” she asked. He sniffed, starting to cough.
“It’s Reyna,” he said, “Do you know of her?” Terra nodded.
“I know Reyna,” she said, “Sometimes she comes with the others to listen to me tell stories.” Reyna was the loveliest young girl in the village, and her father was one of the wealthiest men. She was also incredibly kind. Terra was at a loss to understand what that sweet young girl could have done to make Ian so upset. “What happened with Reyna?” she asked.
“Nothing!” Ian wailed, “That’s the problem. I’ve never said this to anyone else, but I love Reyna. I have since we were small.” Terra smiled at that. Ian was now thirteen. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh!” he cried as he caught sight of her smile.
“And I wasn’t” Terra replied, “It warms my heart that you have such wonderful feelings toward another. Tell me, then, do you truly love Reyna?” His expression changed from a hurt boy to a determined young man.
“I do,” he said, “I would take on the entire Black Dagger army if she asked me to.” Terra clapped her hands, startling him.
“Excellent, then,” she said, “So, what exactly is the problem?” Ian sighed.
“I can’t tell her,” he said mournfully. “How can I? All the other boys like her, too. Especially Nowan.” Nowan, a handsome fourteen year old, was another village boy. He was much bigger than the others, strong and athletic.
“Oh, I see,” Terra said knowingly, “Does Reyna like Nowan as well?” Ian shrugged.
“She likes everyone,” he sighed, “But no one especially.” Terra nodded.
“Well, you should tell her how you feel,” she said, “Maybe Reyna feels the same way.” He sighed again.
“How could I tell her such a thing?” he asked, “How do I find the words?”
“You told me, didn’t you?” Terra said, “Just tell Reyna the same thing.” He nearly wailed in his denial.
“I can’t!” he cried, “What if she laughs at me, or thinks that I’m nothing but a fool? I couldn’t go on living if Reyna laughed at me.”
“Don’t say such things,” Terra chided softly, “I know Reyna. She isn’t a cruel person. I truly don’t believe that she would laugh at your feelings.” Ian nodded.
“That’s true,” he said, "But what if she doesn’t love me back?" Terra sighed.
“Well, that’s the hard part,” she said, “You can’t make someone love you. But, you and Reyna are friends, right?”
“Well, yes,” he replied hesitantly.
“Well, as long as you don’t argue with her, then you’ll always be friends,” Terra said. “Don’t worry. If she doesn’t return your feelings, then perhaps you two weren’t meant to be together as lovers, only as friends.”
“You’re so wise, Terra,” Ian said, “Did you ever have a problem like mine? You know, with love?” Terra’s smile faded.
“I did love a boy once,” she said quietly, “Before I came to the valley. I was sixteen.” Ian turned to her, interested.
“What happened to him?” he asked, “Didn’t he love you?” Terra smiled fondly, remembering.
“We loved each other deeply,” she said, “It was the most amazing feeling. To love someone and feel their love in return.”
“Where is he now?” Ian asked. Terra sighed.
“I don’t know,” she replied, “That’s why I came to the valley. He stopped loving me.”
“Why?” Ian said, “There couldn’t be reason enough for any one to stop loving you, Terra. If it were me, I know I could never let you go.” Terra smiled again.
“You’re kind, Ian,” she said, “But, Liro learned something about what I am, and he didn’t like it. In fact, he hated it.”
“I don’t understand,” Ian said, confused, “What are you?” Terra shook her head, clearing it of the poisonous memories that now flooded it.
“Never you mind,” she said, “It’s getting late. You’d better get back to the village. Reyna is probably in the square.” Ian looked around.
“You’re right,” he said. He suddenly hugged her. “Thank you, Terra. I could never have figured it out on my own. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay, Ian,” she said, “Be careful.” He started down the path.
“I will,” he called, waving, “Oh, and Terra?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about Liro.”
“Me too, Ian,” she said, “I’ll see you.” He waved again and took off at a trot down the path, looking much happier than when he’d arrived. Terra sighed and walked around her house to her small backyard. She slowly made her way across it to the creek bank and sat down next to the flowing water. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift, her hand straying to her forearm.
Liro, she thought, Where are you now? Do you ever think of me? Suddenly, Liro’s handsome face, features twisted in anger floated through her mind. She heard his voice as well, usually pleasant and loving, rising in anger. “Disgusting cow,” he had said, “Remove yourself from my sight. How could I have ever loved such a creature?”
Terra’s eyes snapped open. She felt hot tears press behind her eyes. After she had left Liro, she had gone back to her home and flung herself on the hearth, weeping. She didn’t remember how long she stayed there, only that the men from the village had come for her. When they were done with her, they had left her bruised, bleeding body in the forest, assuming the animals would finish the job. She had managed to survive and, after wandering the forest for nearly a month, had come upon the valley. She lived in a small, unnamed logging village for two and a half years, healing from her injuries. She had rented a room from a kind old lady known as Fiera. Lady Fiera had helped her get work as a maid in the small inn.
Terra could have stayed there for the rest of her days had a hunting party from her village in the North Mountains had not come to the inn. She had been carrying an armful of fresh sheets to one of the rooms and had come face to face with the captain of the village guard, Jerrod. The most powerful and deadly warrior in the village, and Jerrod was also Liro’s older brother. She had gasped and escaped into the nearby linen closet. She had frantically begun folding sheets and had heard Jerrod walk down the hall towards her.
He had paused and looked in at her. Her heart had begun to beat madly in her chest. “You there,” Jerrod had called.
“Sir?” she had replied.
“Did anyone pass you in the hall?” he demanded.
“No sir,” she said, “I met no one.” He had stared at her for a long time, willing her to face him. She continued folding the sheets, her back to him. Other warriors soon joined him and Jerrod left with them after a heated discussion about poachers.
Terra had wasted no time. She had left the inn, telling the owner she was ill. She packed her things, left all of her wages for Lady Fiera, and left before nightfall. After traveling for some days, she had reached Rowanna and had lived here in peace ever since. She was alone, however, afraid to become close to anyone lest they learn of her past. She would remain alone and live out her days peacefully.
It had grown dark, the fall day fading into a chilly evening. The quarter moon hung in the sky, its reflection in the creek a ghostly crescent. Terra shivered and pulled her blue cloak tighter around her. Some hot tea would be good tonight, she thought. She walked back to the house to fetch her kettle, using the back door. When she came back outside, she noticed a shadowy figure kneeling beside the creek. She stopped short, feeling panic slowly creep around her, suffocating her.
“Whose there?” she called. She had meant for the words to sound forceful, but they came out weak and frightened. The figure was still for a moment, then stood and turned to face her.
“Oh!” Terra gasped as the shadowy figure stepped into the moonlight. It was a tall, pale man dressed in a long, black coat made from some thick material. He wore black leather boots and pants and a white linen shirt. His face was the color of milk with fine, almost feminine features. His full lips glistened and his black hair stood up in long, unruly spikes, accentuating the paleness of his skin. His eyes, a startling emerald, stared across the yard at her. He took a step towards her, arms hanging by his sides.
“Stop!” she cried, “Don’t come any nearer. I’m armed.” He stopped moving and an amused look crossed his face
.
“As am I, Lady,” he said in a deep, lyrical voice, “And I carry something much more formidable than a tea kettle.” He took another step towards her and she found her courage.
“You haven’t seen me wield a tea kettle,” she said menacingly. The stranger stopped again, sighing
.
“Lady,” he said patiently, “I did not come here to do you harm. I merely stopped here for a drink from the creek. I have been traveling for some time now.” Terra, remembering the hardships she had endured on her own travels, stepped toward him.
“My name is Terra,” she said, “I live in this house.”
“Lady Terra,” he said, bowing his head. She smoothed her black hair behind her ears, suddenly self-conscious about her appearance.
“Please,” she said, “Just call me Terra.” She pulled her cloak more tightly around her and smiled at him. “I apologize for being so rude.”
“Not at all,” he said, “A young woman living alone should be careful. There are bands of bandits all over the countryside.”
“I was just about to make some hot tea and eat some dinner,” she said, “I’m sure there’s enough for two. Won’t you join me? I’m sure you are weary and need rest.”
“Thank you for your generosity,” he said, “My name is Derrik.”
“Well, Derrik,” she said, “You’re welcome to stay here tonight. I have some spare blankets and pillows. You can sleep in front of the fire.”
“Thank you, Lady,” he said. She began to walk toward the creek.
“Please, just call me Terra,” she said, “I’ll just fill the kettle and gather the wood for the fire. Go on inside and make yourself at home.” She knelt by the creek and began filling the kettle, not wanting to look at him. He’s so handsome, she thought, feeling a blush heat her face. When she turned, she noticed that he had disappeared into the house. She also noticed smoke pouring from the chimney.
She hurried into the house and found him kneeling on the hearth, stacking wood into the stone alcove next to the fireplace. A fire was blazing already, chasing the chill away from the room
.
“I would have done that,” she said, “You didn’t have to.” He turned and stood, wiping his hands on his thighs.
“You’ve already extended such courtesy to me,” he said as he walked toward her and took the kettle from her hands, “It’s only fair that I earn my keep.” His lips curved in a smile, and Terra shivered from the heat that flooded her body as he stepped closer to her. “You’re trembling,” he said softly, “Why don’t you prepare the tea while I heat the water?” She nodded and walked into the kitchen, glad she was alone again. She caught sight of herself in the small mirror on the cupboard door. Her blue eyes were wide, her pale cheeks flushed. She looked away from her reflection and went to the counter and began pulling out her canisters of herbs. She took two pieces of mesh cloth and filled them with herbs that would relax her and her visitor. She tied the pouches with string and placed them into two ceramic mugs. She also pulled two jars of thick vegetable soup from her cupboard and poured them into her large stew pot. She added some chunks of beef that she had gotten from town and carried the pot and mugs into the hearth.
“Let me get that,” Derrik said, rising and taking the stew pot from her. “This needs to go on the fire?”
“Yes,” she said, “Thank you.” He deftly removed the steaming tea kettle and replaced it with the stew pot. She sat the mugs down and he poured the boiling water over the herb bundles. He placed the kettle on the hearth and sat down on the floor next to the fire. She pulled a large cushion from a chair and eased herself into the floor, enjoying the warmth. The tea was putting off fragrant steam as it steeped.
“It may take some time for the soup to cook fully,” she said, “You’re welcome to take off your heavy coat.
“Thank you, Lady,” he said as he slipped the coat from his shoulders. “Damn,” he hissed in pain. The left arm of his white shirt was torn and bloody. Terra’s face filled with concern.
“Oh, you’re injured,” she said, “Please, let me help you.” She reached for his arm, but he pulled it away from her.
“Don’t fret over my injuries, Lady,” he said, “It’s nothing serious.” She frowned at him.
“You’ve lost quite a lot of blood,” she said as she stood and walked toward him, “At least let me examine it.” She touched his arm and he jerked it roughly away.
“Let it alone, Lady,” he said, anger creeping into his voice. She placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and met his angry green eyes with her soft blue ones.
“I am now asking for you to repay the kindness I have shown you,” she said, “And, I am asking that you allow me to treat your wound.” She reached for his arm again and he grudgingly allowed her to examine it. “I’m going to have to roll your sleeve up to clean this cut,” she said, “It looks infected.”
“It isn’t infected,” he said testily, pulling his arm closer to him, “It’s fine. Leave it alone.” She took his arm and carefully began rolling his sleeve up.
“Please, Derrik,” she said as he tensed, “Trust me.” She rolled his sleeve up further and saw the wound. “There’s a lot of blood on your arm,” she said, “I’m going to have to wipe some off.” She wet a scrap of cloth with some water from the kettle and began gently cleaning the blood away. More of his pale skin became visible under the slime of blood. “What’s this black stain on your arm?” she asked as she wiped more blood away, “It won’t come off.”
“It’s not a stain,” he said softly, “It’s a tattoo.” She glanced at him and smiled.
“Well, I’ll just stop trying to wipe it off, then,” she said. She was finally able to remove all the blood and turned to place the cloth on the hearth. When she turned back, she saw the tattoo exposed. It was a large black dagger. Terra gasped.
“You’re a Black Dagger!” she cried, backing away across the floor, “You’re one of the demons!” She stood and bolted for the door. He was on her in an instant, closing the door and pinning her against it. She cried out and closed her eyes.
“Are you frightened?” he asked softly.
“Please,” Terra said, “Please, don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.” She was breathing heavily, eyes shut, head turned. He laughed and leaned closer to her. He pressed his body against her own and he brushed his lips against her neck. She cried out.
“So,” he whispered in her ear, “You don’t want to die. Answer my question, then. How do you know of the Shadows of the Black Dagger?” She sobbed aloud, tears coursing down her cheek.
“I’m the village storyteller,” she replied, voice trembling, “The story of the demon band is a popular tale.” He laughed again, menacingly.
“Then you know that I could rip your throat out with my teeth if I so wished,” he said, “Open your eyes, Lady.” She slowly opened her eyes, still facing away from him. “Look at me,” he said softly. She obeyed, turning her head so that she was face to face with him. “Are you still frightened?” he asked in a deadly whisper. She nodded. “Speak to me!” he shouted. She winced at his sudden change of voice.
“Yes,” she said. His lips curved into a smile.
“Yes,” he repeated, “I knew from the moment I met you that you were smart.” He gently brushed her hair away from her face.
“Please don’t,” she said, pulling back, “Don’t touch me. You monster!” She pushed him away and ran for the back door. He grabbed her with wicked speed and pulled her to him.
“Monster I may be,” he said as he jerked the sleeve of her blouse up, “But I see that you aren’t the pleasant little storyteller you’ve made yourself out to be.” He had revealed a large black pentacle burned into her forearm. “The mark of a witch,” he murmured, “I guess you got caught somewhere. Now, I’m going to let you go, but only if you promise not to run.” He released her arm and she backed toward the fire.
“How did you know?” she asked, cradling her arm against her chest. He laughed and picked up her mug of tea.
“Here,” he said, “Sit down and drink your tea. I won’t hurt you. I give you my word.” She glanced at him distrustfully and took the tea.
“How did you know?” she repeated as she settled back on the cushion. “How did you know that I was a witch?” He sat next to her, wrapping his long fingers around his own mug.
“I knew the moment I saw you,” he said, “You have such amazing strength and power. I could smell it on you.” She snorted.
“Well, that certainly places me at a disadvantage,” she said, “You know of my power, but I would have never guessed you were a demon.” He drank from his mug.
“I’m not,” he said, “This tea is incredible.” Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
“You’re not a demon?” she asked, “Then, why do you bear the mark of the Black Dagger.” He sighed.
“That, Lady, is a long story,” he replied. She moved closer to him.
“Terra,” she corrected automatically, then, “Tell it to me.” He looked at her face, intense and waiting, and smiled.
“All right,” he said and began to speak.
II. The Demon’s Tale
“I am not a demon,” Derrik began, “I was sired when my father, Jirrah, the leader of the Black Dagger demons, raped a human woman. When she turned up pregnant, my father captured her and forced her to bear his offspring. I was marked with the Black Dagger when I was born, as are all who are born into the clan.
“I grew up being trained as a warrior with my older brother, Rylan, a true demon. We were taught to kill and feed from humans. You see, a demon survives by drinking the blood of the living. They can survive on animal blood, but human blood is more potent. And, it tastes better. Being a half-demon, I also enjoy regular food, but I do need blood from time to time. I can also take blood from humans without killing them, unlike full demons.
“During our training, the others would transform into their demon form. Their skin would transform, becoming thick and gray to act as armor against human weapons. Huge bat-like wings would grow from their backs and their teeth would become razor-edged fangs. They had claws as well and were phenomenally strong, even in their human form.
“Needless to say, I looked a little different than them during the transformation,” he said and stopped talking for a moment. “True demons can also transform at will,” he continued, “I can only transform if I feel intense emotion, such as fear or rage.” Terra raised a hand, halting him once more.
“How do you look when you transform?” she asked, “How are you different?” A ghost of a smile crossed his face like a weary traveler.
“Well,” he said, “My skin doesn’t change. I actually look almost human. I do grow fangs, but they’re smaller and my nails get longer and sharper. I also grow wings, but they aren’t the same.” He stopped again.
“What are your wings like?” Terra prodded.
“They’re more…feathery,” he replied. She smiled warmly at him.
“Like an angel,” she said in a quiet voice. The smile vanished from his face, replaced with a look of bitterness.
“More like a carrion crow,” he said sourly, “They’re black. I got hassled quite a lot for my appearance. The others called me ‘Bird Boy’ and ‘Crowbait’, great insults to a demon. Once my father caught wind of that, he pulled me out of group training. He said he didn’t want me embarrassing him in front of his troops with my weak transformation.” He stopped again, staring into the fire. Terra moved closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Derrik,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“My brother was the worst or them all,” he continued, seeming to ignore her, “When we were both young, we were nearly inseparable. I guess having a half-breed for a brother was difficult for him, but I’m sure our father had something to do with it. As we both grew older, he started to hate me. So, the demons wouldn’t accept me, the humans couldn’t accept me, and my family despised my existence. I had only myself with my wretched past. Since I had killed my mother, I was utterly alone with no one to show me the slightest bit of kindness or compassion.” He stopped and looked at her.
“Did you really kill your mother?” Terra asked softly.
“She died during the birth,” he said, “So, yes, I killed her.” He stood suddenly and went to the back window. Terra remained by the fire, watching him stare at the creek under the moonlight.
“You didn’t kill her,” she said softly. He snorted.
“If I hadn’t lived then she would have,” he said, ending the discussion. “Eventually, I left the other demons,” he said, continuing his tale, “We were attacking a human village. The only reason they had brought me along was because a half-breed has to eat, too. They hated me, but not enough to let me starve apparently. They destroyed the village, killing every human in sight and draining them dry. I fed on the livestock, but no one really noticed what I was doing.
“I turned around and saw my father. He was holding a small girl. A woman, the girl’s mother was standing before him. I watched as he slaughtered the mother in front of the girl, then he killed the child as well. I was savage, unable to control myself. I saw nothing and couldn’t even remember who I was. I attacked my father and killed him. I also killed a great number of my kinsman in the process. Rylan and the others fled the village and went into hiding.”
“So, the unknown army that attacked and defeated the demons,” Terra said, “It was you.” He smiled.
“Is that how the story goes, then?” he asked, “How amusing. So, after my brother and the others had scattered, I set off on my own. I’ve been traveling alone ever since, killing other Black Daggers as I come across them and looking for my brother. I’m on my way to my mother’s house in Ferarr.”
“Why are you going to your mother’s house?” Terra asked.
“To rest for awhile,” he replied, “I’ve been traveling for a long time, and I’d like to live somewhere for just a short time in order to regroup.”
“Wait a minute,” Terra said, “The Black Daggers disappeared five centuries ago. How is that possible?”
“I was twenty-three when I left the others,” he said, “I have walked the land for the last five hundred years. Demons are immortal, and apparently, so am I.” Terra’s eyes grew large
.
“You’ve walked alone for five hundred years,” she murmured, “How could you cope with being alone for so long?” He walked away from the window and sat back down next to her.
“It’s easy when you have something to keep you going,” he said softly, “I cannot rest until I have slain Rylan and the rest of the Black Daggers. As long as that cold-blooded bastard draws breath, the Black Daggers are still a threat.” He turned his head and looked at her. “I suppose I’ll be leaving,” he said. Terra jumped slightly.
“Why?” she asked, “You haven’t even eaten. I thought you were staying.” He turned back to the fire, his face a stone mask.
“Are you still frightened?” he asked softly.
“No,” she replied, “Not of you. I know how you feel, being alone. Sometimes it’s just nice to have someone else there.” He glanced sharply at her.
“Yes,” he said, “It is nice.” They were both quiet for quite some time, watching the fire.
“You’re arm!” Terra suddenly cried, “I never treated it!”
“Calm down, Lady,” he said, “It has already healed. My demon blood enhances the healing process.” She grinned.
“Call me Terra,” she said, “Is it really healed?” He removed his soiled, bloody shirt and laid it with his coat. There was no trace of a cut or scar on his arm. “You must have been attacked very recently.”
“Actually, there was a bandit outside your house,” he said, “I frightened him off, but not before he sliced me with his knife.”
“Really?” she asked, “Thank you. You probably saved my life.”
“I only wish I had another shirt,” he said, ignoring her comment, “This one isn’t only disgusting, I have a tendency to attract attention when I’m covered in blood.” Terra stood.
“Wait here,” she said and walked into the bedroom. She began rummaging through her trunk of clothing, unable to believe what was happening. There was a half-demon sitting in her floor, and she was inviting him to dinner. Finally, she found what she had been searching for. She held up Liro’s shirt. It was made of red linen and laced in the front with black leather cord. She had managed to use magic to hide the shirt before the men had taken her, and then called it back later. She had kept it all this time, hidden in the bottom of her trunk, as a memento of her only love. She draped it over her arm and walked back out of the bedroom.
“Here,” she said and tossed him the shirt, “It should fit you.” He held the shirt up in front of him, examining it closely with narrowed eyes.
“This doesn’t belong to someone?” he asked, “I don’t want to steal someone’s shirt. Especially such a nice one.” She stirred the soup in the kettle, avoiding his eyes.
“It belongs to someone I knew once,” she said evenly, “I don’t think he’s ever going to come back for it. It’s yours now.” He was quiet for a moment.
“I somehow think that there is more to this situation than you’re telling me,” he said, “But I need a new shirt, so I’ll just say thank you and accept your generosity. Thank you, Lady.” She turned to face him.
“Terra,” she said, “Please, call me Terra. Also, if you wish, you can bathe in the creek. This cottage has no running water, I’m afraid. It’s probably chilly this time of year, but the soup should warm you. I also make soap, if you like.” He smiled.
“I haven’t bathed in ages,” he said, “I think I may just take you up on that offer. However, only if you make me another cup of tea.” He smiled at her and held out his empty mug. “This was the finest cup of tea I have ever had.”
“Deal,” she said, “If you fill the kettle up.”
“Deal,” he said and took the kettle. As he walked out the back door, she went to the kitchen and got a bar of soap. She watched him through the window as he walked across the grass, the pale skin of his back seeming to glow in the moonlight. Terra felt heat rush through her body as she imagined touching him, holding him, running her fingers down that back.
“What are you thinking?” she said to herself, “He’s dangerous. And, here you are, prancing around and giving him clothes and soap. What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with who?” Derrik said from the door. Terra jumped.
“No one,” she said quickly. He narrowed his eyes at her. “I was just talking to myself,” she added, “So, here’s the soap.” She handed him the soap and a towel.
“Here’s the kettle,” he said, eyeing her in an amused way. She took it from him, smiling nervously. “Thank you again, little witch,” he said softly, “I have never known anyone before who showed me such kindness.”
“Well, go on, then,” she said, “So you can eat a decent meal. Also, call me Terra.” He bowed his head to her and disappeared out the door once again. She sighed, shaking her head. She walked to the hearth and placed the kettle over the fire next to the soup pot. As she walked to the kitchen, she pulled her sleeve up and looked at the mark the men had branded upon her skin.
Witch, she thought, tracing the circle around the star, How could anyone want me? She sighed and walked into the kitchen. She cut several thick slices of fresh bread, and then prepared the tea bags. She carried the plate of bread in and sat it beside the fire along with some butter. She collected the mugs and dropped the tea bags into them. As an afterthought, she retrieved a blanket from the closet in the entry. She was going back to retrieve spoons and bowls when she spotted Derrik through the window.
The black water was pooled around his waist as he stood in the moonlight. His profile was sharply defined by the silver light, and his hair stood in glistening spikes. Beads of water clung to it, glistening. As she watched, Derrik slowly pulled his hands through his hair, leaning his head back so that his face pointed toward the sky.
Terra suddenly realized that she was spying on him again and turned quickly from the window. She placed a hand against her chest and felt her heart beating quickly against her ribs. Stop it, Terra, she thought as she retrieved spoons and bowls for the two of them, He isn’t even going to be here tomorrow.
She sighed. “At least I have someone to talk to,” she said to herself as she carried the bowls and spoons out of the kitchen. She pulled the kettle from the fire and filled the mugs with the steaming water. She replaced the kettles and walked back into her bedroom. She retrieved the green flannel pants and white cotton shirt that she wore to sleep in and removed her clothes. As she turned to get her shirt, she caught sight of her body in the mirror.
She studied herself, taking every inch of her body in with her eyes. She had full breasts, a flat stomach, and hips that curved slightly. Her eyes drifted over her reflection, pausing at the pentacle on her arm. The five-pointed star surrounded by a circle that was branded into the flesh of witches. She remembered how she had screamed when the guards had pressed the hot iron into her skin. She pulled her shirt over her head and turned from the mirror, fighting the tears that suddenly threatened to spill from her eyes.
When she was dressed, she walked into the great room and began dishing up the soup. Just as she had curled up on her cushion, Derrik came through the back door, wiping his bare chest with the towel and carrying his boots. Terra looked up at him from the floor and smiled.
“You seem to feel better,” she said. He walked to the kitchen and draped the towel over a wooden peg to dry
.
“Indeed, Lady,” he said as he walked toward the fire, “I haven’t felt this good in quite some time. You were right, though, the water was freezing.”
“I found a blanket for you,” she said, gesturing to the folded cloth on the hearth.
“Thank you,” he said as he at next to her and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, shivering. Terra moved closer to him, sliding her arms around him.
“You’re frozen,” she said as she rubbed her hands briskly over his blanket-wrapped arms, “Drink some of your tea. It will help.” As he reached for the mug, she settled back onto her cushion, watching him bring the cup to his mouth and wrap his lips around the edge. She shivered despite the heat from the fire. After taking a long swallow, he turned to her.
“You’re trembling again,” he said, “Move closer to me and we can share the blanket.” Terra’s breath caught in her throat.
“No,” she said timorously, “I’m perfectly fine, really. Besides, that blanket is yours.” He waved a hand at her.
“Nonsense,” he said resolutely, “You’re shaking and there’s more than enough room for both of us.” He lifted the edge of the blanket invitingly. She sighed and scooted closer, handing him a bowl of soup and moving the bread between them. She draped the blanket over her shoulders and settled next to him, her shoulder pressing against his.
“Thanks,” she said as she stirred her soup, “I feel better now.” She lifted the spoon to her mouth and took a small sip.
“Excellent,” Derrik said as he buttered a slice of bread and handed it to her. “So,” he began, swallowing a spoonful of soup, “Have you always lived alone here, Lady?” She washed down the bread with a swallow of tea.
“Call me Terra, please,” she corrected involuntarily, “And, yes, I have. I came to this valley five years ago, when I was sixteen. I’ve lived in Rowanna since I was nineteen.”
“Where did you live before?” he asked as he used a slice of bread to mop up the rest of his soup. She handed her bowl to him.
“You finish this,” she said, “I’m full. Before coming to this valley, I lived in a village in the North Mountains, where I was born.”
“You are from Talrain,” he said, “I should have guessed by the paleness of your skin. You’re almost as white as I am.” She nodded, turning her face away from him and staring into the fire. “Who was it?” he asked casually.
“What do you mean?” she asked, even though she knew.
“Who discovered that you were a witch?” he said gently.
“The same person that the shirt belonged to,” she replied.
“A man,” he said. She nodded, keeping her face aimed at the fire
.
“I healed a wound he had gotten while riding,” she said, “I used magic to do it. I had thought he would understand, that he wouldn’t care that I was a witch. I was wrong.”
“What was his name?” Derrik asked. She could feel his eyes on her, but didn’t turn to meet his gaze
.
“Liro,” she said, “His name was Liro.” Suddenly, the tears that had been threatening to fall since the afternoon began flowing from her eyes, tracing burning streams down her cheeks. “He told me he loved me,” she said in a choked voice, “He told me he wanted me to be his wife. Once he found out, he called me a disgusting creature and told me he never wanted to see me again.” She buried her face in her hands, weeping quietly.
“Lady,” Derrik whispered, “May I hold you?”
“What?” she asked as she turned to face him. Without saying anything, Derrik pulled her against his chest and encircled her with his arms. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he drew her closer, one hand moving to rest against the back of her neck
“Easy, little witch,” he said in a soothing voice, his lips brushing her hair, “I won’t hurt you.” She folded against him, her arms sliding slowly around his waist.
“He didn’t love me,” she said through her tears, “He never did. How could he have loved me? What I am, it isn’t natural.”
“I’m sure you’re very easy to fall in love with,” Derrik said, “My guess is that the trick is not loving you.” She shook her head against his chest.
“No,” she said, “Then, Liro told his brother, the captain of the guards, Jerrod. He came for me with five armed men. They beat me and left me in the woods. Jerrod told me that if he ever saw me again, he would cut my throat himself. I’ve been alone since then.” The hand on her back began moving in slow circles as she began to cry harder.
“Why don’t you leave?” Derrik asked once she had calmed, “Why hide your powers and who you are?” She snorted against his chest.
“Where would I go?” she said contemptuously, “Witches aren’t exactly the most popular individuals.”
“Neither are demons,” he said softly, “And you could go to Ferarr. With me.” She tilted her head up at him.
“I can’t leave this place,” she said, “I’ve made a home here, a life. Besides, I’m sure you don’t want a witch to keep you company.” He smiled down at her.
“Anymore than you’d wish for the company of a demon,” he said softly. She turned her head and they were both silent “It doesn’t bother me,” he said suddenly.
“What?” she asked, beginning to feel drowsy.
“Your power,” he answered, “It doesn’t bother me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as she closed her eyes. She felt herself sliding toward sleep, thinking that she should get up and go to her bed.
“Sleep well, Lady,” he said, softly stroking her hair.
“Terra,” she mumbled, “Call me Terra.”
After that, she fell into a dreamless sleep and knew no more.
III. Moving Day
Terra awoke with a start when she heard a knock at the door. She cried out softly when she felt an arm draped over her waist. She turned and saw Derrik lying next to her, eyes open.
“I have to get that,” she said as she stood. He grabbed her wrist.
“Wait,” he said as he stood and drew a long sword from his coat. He silently moved next to the door, standing out of sight. Once he was in position, she answered the door. The head counsel man of the village stood on the porch, flanked by two guards.
“Lord Braxton,” Terra said, smiling and bowing her head, “What brings you here this morning?” Lord Braxton did not return the smile.
“Lady Terra,” he said in an authoritative voice, “It had been brought to my attention by Lady Helena that you have been branded as a witch. Is this true?” Terra gasped, her left hand involuntarily clutching the mark on her right arm through her shirt.
“It is true,” she said, lowering her head, “I am a witch. Tell me, Lord, how did she know?”
“Not that it matters,” Lord Braxton said, “But Lady Helena informed me that, when she came to your home to purchase a cake of soap, she saw you through the window examining the mark.”
“I see,” Terra said quietly.
“I’m sorry, Lady Terra,” Lord Braxton said, “But for the safety of the village, I must ask you to leave here. We don’t wish to cause you harm, but you must leave the village before sundown, or you will be removed by force.”
“I understand,” she replied, “Thank you, Lord Braxton, for your mercy. I will go.”
“Good day, Lady Terra,” he said and walked away, his guards following behind him. Terra closed the door softly and leaned against it.
“Bastards,” Derrik said softly, watching them through the window, “How dare they make such demands? Filthy Scum.” Terra started, having forgotten he was there.
“No,” she said, “They are kind compared with the Talrain guard. They merely asked me to leave. So, I will.” She pushed herself away from the wall and walked to her bedroom, beginning to pull her clothing from the trunk. Derrik leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
“Where will you go?” he asked, eyes following her as she moved to the closet and pulled a large pack from inside.
“I don’t know,” she replied, “Another village, I suppose.”
“Will you go alone?” he asked. She stopped walking and turned to him.
“Of course,” she said, giving a short, bitter laugh, “I always go alone.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “Not this time. You’ll come with me.”
“No,” she said, “I’ll be fine on my own.”
“No!” he said angrily, “It’s not safe and you will not go alone. My brother is still out there, along with more of the Black Daggers. If they caught wind of a woman traveling alone, they’d kill you in an instant.” She rounded on him, eyes blazing.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t like to be told what to do,” she said heatedly, “I’m not a child. Besides, how do I know your brother isn’t like you?” His upper lip curled in a snarl.
“Because,” he growled, “Rylan murdered his mother.” Terra’s eyes grew wide and fearful, but she continued to argue.
“This valley is huge,” she said, “He may never even find me.”
“Damn you, listen to me!” he growled, frustrated, “If not the demons, worry about the bandits and thieves. Lady, I just want you to be able to travel safely. You’ll be safer with me than alone.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“How do I know that?” she cried, “What if you decide to attack me? I couldn’t fight you.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing.
“You still don’t trust me, do you?” he asked. He walked to her and gripped her forearms forcefully. “I would never hurt you, Lady,” he said as she raised her face to his, “I want to help you.” Her hand immediately went to the mark on her arm. “I don’t care about that,” he said softly as he pushed her sleeve up and gently ran his thumb back and forth over the raised, scarred skin, “It really doesn’t matter to me.”
“All right!” she cried, shaking his hand off, “I’ll go with you. Just let me pack.”
“Yes, Lady,” he said as he walked to the door.
“Derrik,” she said, “Won’t you please just call me Terra?” He smiled knowingly at her and left the room. She sighed and began to change her clothes, folding her sleep-clothes and placing them in the bag. She changed into a red corset that laced with black leather straps. She slid a flowing black skirt over her hips and carefully pinned her hair up. She packed two blouses and skirts and a pair of trousers. She also added her sewing things and some basic medical supplies. She glanced at her empty trunk and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the trunk had vanished. She carried her pack into the kitchen, pulling jars of soups and preserves from the cabinets. She watched Derrik pull Liro’s shirt over his head and slide his coat on. He picked up the sword and slid it into its sheath. He strapped it against his back and drew it quickly, testing the position. She packed some healing herbs and made the rest disappear, planning to bring them back whenever she needed them. She added a large saucepan to her pack and left the kitchen. She added three blankets, stuffing them into the pack and closing it.
“I’m ready,” she said as she pulled a black, hooded traveling cape from the closet and clasped it around her neck.
“Let’s go, then,” he said as he opened the door. She shouldered the pack and walked from the house, down the
stone steps, and onto the path. “We have to go through the village,” he said, “It will be quicker than trying to go around.”
“Lead the way,” she said, “I don’t know where Ferarr is.” They began walking next to each other toward the village common.
“It’s west of here,” he said, “Once we reach the edge of Rowanna, we must travel south through the forest for a while in order to avoid the mountains, then we can head west.”
By this time they had reached the village, walking through the common. No one spoke to them, although they were on the receiving end of a great many nasty looks and whispered comments. Terra continued to walk beside Derrik, trying to ignore the hateful stares that seemed to make her skin burn. Suddenly, she spotted Ian standing with Reyna, tightly clasping her hand in his own.
“Terra,” he called, hurrying over to her, “Who’s he?” He was eyeing Derrick distrustfully. Terra placed her hands on the boy’s shoulders.
“He’s my friend, Ian,” she said, “His name is Derrik.” Ian’s face relaxed.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked her. She nodded.
“I’m leaving, Ian,” she said, “And, I’m not coming back.” The boy’s eyes widened.
“You can’t leave, Terra,” he said as her threw his arms around her, “I don’t want you to go.” She hugged the boy back, ruffling his hair.
“I have to go,” she said, “One day, you’ll understand. Until then, I promise that I will always remember you.” She leaned down to him and kissed his forehead.
“I’ll remember you, as well,” Ian said softly, “Be safe, Terra.”
“You as well, little one,” she said. Ian looked at Derrik.
“I am charging you with her protection,” Ian said to him, “If you truly are her friend, then keep her safe.” Derrik’s eyes widened, then his face became serious.
“You have my word,” he said, bowing his head to Ian. The boy nodded, looking relieved.
“Goodbye, Terra,” he said as he walked back toward Reyna.
“Goodbye, Ian,” she replied, “Derrik, let’s go now.” He nodded and began walking.
“Who was that?” he asked when they were nearly to the edge of the common.
“A friend,” Terra said as she looked back. She saw Ian standing next to Reyna, watching them walk away, a pensive look on his face. The children both raised a hand in farewell, both looking helpless, small, and lost. She turned away and continued walking.
“Do you think he realized that you placed him under a spell?” Derrik asked quietly. Terra smiled.
“The protection spell I tied to the kiss is one of my own making,” she said, “It won’t be noticed. It should keep him safe for a little more than two years.”
“It must be a powerful spell,” he said as they entered the forest, “To last for such a long time.”
“It is,” she replied modestly, “I worked hard to hone it.” They walked in silence through the forest for a long while, the only sounds were the calling the birds and their footsteps.
“Well, Lady,” Derrik said after they had been walking for nearly an hour, “Since we’re going to be traveling companions, we should get to know one another. What’s your favorite color?” Terra was surprised into laughter.
“Green,” she said, glancing at his eyes, “I like green. What about you?” He glanced at her for a moment, and then looked back to the path.
“I’m fond of blue,” he said, “Your turn. Ask me anything.”
“All right,” she said, “What is your favorite kind of fruit?”
“Peaches,” he replied with no hesitation, “What do you like?”
“Cherries,” she said, “I guess it’s your turn to ask me something now.”
“Yes,” he said, “It is my turn. What is your favorite time of year?”
“That’s easy,” she said, “Autumn. I love the way the leaves change, the way the winds blow almost constantly. Autumn is by far my favorite time of year. How about you?”
“The same,” he replied, “Autumn is, by far, the most beautiful time of year, no matter where you are. I think it’s your turn now.” She thought for a moment, and then smiled.
“Okay,” she said, “What is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?”
“Well, you are, Lady,” he replied. Terra laughed sharply.
“You must have a strange idea of beauty,” she said. He smiled.
“It’s not so strange,” he said softly, “What about you? What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She grinned wickedly at him.
“You,” she replied haughtily, “I think it’s your turn now.”
IV. The Witch’s Kiss
Once it began to grow dark, Derrik suggested that they stop to camp. He walked off the trail and Terra followed, looking around at the dense forest. They soon came to a small clearing surrounded by tall fir trees.
“Here,” he said, “We’ll set up camp here. If you place some of these stones in a circle, I’ll gather some wood for a fire.” Terra shrugged her shoulders out of the pack straps and sat it next to a fallen log along with her cape.
“Sounds good,” she said, “Just don’t go too far away.” He smiled at her.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, “I’ll stay close.” As he walked into the woods, she knelt and began gathering stones. She arranged them in the middle of the clearing, pausing to stretch her aching back. They had walked for miles during the afternoon and evening, the path eventually disappearing into the forest floor.
“Are you hurting?” Derrik asked as he dropped an armload of dry wood next to the incomplete circle of stones.
“No,” Terra replied quickly as she finished the circle, “I’m fine.” She began stacking some of the wood within the circle, sitting back when she finished.
“I have matches,” Derrik said as he began rummaging through his pockets.
“Save them,” she said, “We may need them later.” She brought her index fingers together in front of her and murmured to herself for a moment. Suddenly, flames burst from beneath the wood.
“Impressive,” he said as he eyed the blazing fire, “Remind me not to make you mad.” She sighed.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, “Witches don’t usually use their powers to harm others. According to the laws of the craft, whatever we send out comes back to us threefold. So, I try not to hurt anyone with my magic.”
“Calm down, little witch,” he said, “I was only joking. I am very familiar with the witches’ rule of three.” She looked at him, his face glowing warmly in the firelight.
“How do you know so much about witches?” she asked as she shifted, trying to ease the dull throb of pain in her lower back.
“First things first,” he said as he unrolled a blanket, “Lie down.”
“What?” she said, “No, I’m really fine.” He just stared at her until she rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. “All right,” she said as she stretched out on her back and looked up at him, “Are you happy now?”
“No,” he said, “Turn over onto your stomach and take off your corset.” She stared up at him, shocked.
“You’re joking again, right?” she said. He grinned.
“I’m afraid not, Lady,” he said, “Take it off. I promise I won’t look.” He turned prudently away.
“I’m not undressing for you!” she snapped.
“That’s not what I’m asking,” he said patiently, “Just take it off and lie on your stomach.” Checking to see that he was still turned away, she quickly unlaced the corset, tossed it aside, and stretched out on her stomach, bunching the blanket to hide her bare breasts.
“Okay,” she said, “It’s off.” He turned and knelt down to her, placing his knees on either side of her thighs. “What are you doing?” she said, her voice carrying an edge of panic.
“Just relax, little witch,” Derrik said as he began to knead the muscles in her back, “I won’t hurt you.” She sighed as his hands, cool against her warm skin, moved over her back, easing the tension in her knotted muscles. “Where did you get this large scar across your shoulder?” he asked.
“The Talrain guard,” she said softly.
“I see,” he said quietly. She was quiet for a long time, enjoying the feel of his hands on her.
“Derrik, that feels amazing,” she said as she groaned from contentment.
“Well, demons do have some powers,” he said, “Such as the ability to read thoughts and emotions of others. I can also give immense pleasure or pain with a single touch.”
“Really,” she said, “Well, it’s not immense, but it is pleasure.”
“I can show you what I mean,” he said softly, “It wouldn’t be difficult.” She laughed.
“All right,” she said, “Let’s see what you can do.” The pressure of his hands changed, becoming light and feathery. Suddenly she felt a wave of sensation rush through her body, making her ache with desire. She had never felt anything so wonderful before, and she moaned. He leaned closer to her, his mouth next to her ear, his fingers moving the slow, feathery touch down her sides.
“I can do whatever you want me to,” he whispered against her ear as his touch drew another moan from her. She shivered as his warm breath seemed to caress her neck with a thousand skilled hands.
“Please, stop,” she murmured, “I want you to stop.” He immediately withdrew his hands and the astonishing feeling left her. She pushed herself up from the ground, sitting on her knees, arms crossed over her breasts. “I’ve never felt like that before,” she said softly, “I’ve never been touched like that before, either.” He moved closer to her and placed his hands lightly on her upper arms.
“I can do it again,” he whispered against her neck, “If you wanted it.” She trembled as he brushed his lips against her neck.
“Derrik,” she sighed as she leaned against him. He moved his hands to her smooth stomach.
“I want you,” he said softly, “I have wanted you since the first time I saw you across your yard.” He moved his hands slowly up her stomach cupping her breasts as she lowered her arms to her sides. Suddenly, Jerrod’s face flashed through her mind and she heard his voice thundering through her head.
Stay down! the phantom voice roared, Stop moving or you’re dead. Her breathing increased and she pushed away from Derrik, covering herself as she stared up at him, eyes wide with fear.
“No!” she nearly screamed, “Don’t touch me!” Derrik moved back, holding his hands out in front of him.
“Lady,” he said gently, “Please, calm down. Whatever I did, it was obviously out of line. Just calm down.” He reached for another blanket and draped it over her huddled shoulders. She drew further away from him when he moved closer to her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she drew the blanket more tightly around her, “I don’t know what happened.” Derrik poured some water from his canteen into a battered tin cup and handed it to her. She took it and drank deeply.
“I sensed that you were distressed,” Derrik said, “But the reason for your distress remains hidden from me. It happened last night as well, when you spoke of Talrain. What happened to you there, little witch?”
“I already told you what happened,” she replied as she stood, holding the blanket around her. She walked to her pack and pulled out her white cotton shirt. She pulled it over her head and then slid her green pants on under her skirt, taking care not to reveal the slightest bit of flesh.
“I know what you told me,” he said patiently, “What I want to know is what you didn’t tell me.” She pulled her skirt off and shoved it and her corset into her pack.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said tersely. He walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. She pulled away from his touch, turning to face him.
“You do know what I mean,” he said, “Why won’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell!” she cried, “Just leave it alone, Derrik.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Fine,” he said, “Consider it dropped. We’ll just forget everything that happened and go to sleep.” He turned from her and began fussing with the blankets. She reached out and touched his arm.
“Derrik,” she said. He stopped and turned to her, frowning.
“What is it, Lady?” he asked, raising his eyes to meet her own.
“Thank you,” she said. She leaned down and pressed her lips gently against his forehead. He smiled up at her, emerald eyes shining.
“I guess I’m under your protection now, too,” he said as he stood, “Just like the little warrior from the village.”
“I guess so,” she said softly. He reached out and grasped her hand in his.
“Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked, looking down at her hand, “We’re going to have to start early tomorrow.”
“Sleep would be a good idea,” she said, “I’ll help with the blankets.”
V. Terra’s Dream
The forest surrounded her, branches clawing at her face. She was running through the trees, fighting to draw breath. She stopped running and leaned against a tree, panting.
“Derrik!” she cried, “Derrik, where are you?” She heard a crash from behind her and knew it had found her. Whatever it was, it was coming for her. And, it wouldn’t stop.
“Derrik!” she called as she ran, “Please, Derrik, help me!” She ran faster, trying to escape the sounds coming from behind her. Her lungs burned with effort as she ran faster, trying to escape. Finally, she noticed a hollow tree. She dove inside, curling herself up as small as she could. Something jammed into her back, and she hissed in pain as she repositioned herself.
She heard it come through the trees, some great, hulking thing. She could only make out its shadow as it passed, huge and black. It paused near the tree and she heard the guttural sound of it breathing as it sniffed the air, searching for her scent. She held her breath, more frightened now than she had ever been.
The creature stood next to the tree for an eternity before it finally moved on, crashing through the trees. She stayed in the tree for another eternity, but the creature didn’t return. Finally safe, she crawled out of the tree and fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
“Derrik, where are you?” she said softly, “I’m all alone again.”
“I’m here, Lady,” said a voice from the shadows. She looked up and saw him standing in a pool of night. The darkness was so thick that she couldn’t even see his face.
“Derrik?” she said hesitantly, “Oh, Derrik!” She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “I was all alone,” she said softly against his chest, “I couldn’t find you.” He began to laugh cruelly, his hands clamping down painfully on her shoulders.
“I knew I would find you,” Derrik said, “You little bitch.” She looked into his face and screamed. Jerrod stared down at her, a cruel smile twisting his lips.
“No!” she cried, struggling against him. He laughed again and threw her down, pinning her under him.
“If you don’t fight, you won’t get hurt,” he said as he placed a hand on her throat and squeezed. He ripped her skirt up and roughly spread her legs apart. She felt sharp stones cut into her back and thighs as she struggled in the dirt.
“No!” she screamed, No!”
“Wake up, Lady,” Jerrod said from above her.
“No!” she cried again. He began to shake her. She opened her eyes.
“Lady,” Derrik said as he shook her again, “Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
“No!” she cried, sitting up, “Jerrod!” She looked around, her eyes unfocused and wide with fear. Where was she and who was this man touching her?
“Lady!” Derrik said, “We’re the only ones here. You were dreaming.” Suddenly her eyes cleared and she looked at him.
“Derrik?” she said, touching his face, “Is it you? Is it really you?” He laid his hand over hers, pressing it more firmly against his face.
“It’s me, Lady,” he said softly, “I’m here.” She opened her mouth to speak and a large sob escaped her. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, wailing.
“Please!” she cried, “Don’t leave me. Don’t let me go. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“I won’t leave you,” he said, holding her tightly, “I won’t leave you alone.” They held each other for a long time, until they both drifted into sleep’s waiting arms again.
Terra had no dreams for the rest of the night.
VI. Gypsies
When she woke, her eyes stung as pinpoints of sunlight seeped through her eyelids. When she didn’t feel Derrik next to her, she bolted upright, alarmed. Her head whipped around the clearing until she saw him, feeding wood into the small fire. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he stifled a yawn. She stood and walked to him, crouching next to the fire to relieve the morning’s chill.
“Good morning, Lady,” he said as he sat back and crossed his legs, “How did you sleep?”
“Terra,” she corrected, yawning widely, “I’m a little stiff from sleeping on the ground, but fine other than that.”
“No more dreams, then?” he asked. She gave him a puzzled look.
“Dreams?” she said, confused, “What dreams? Did I have a dream that woke you?” He looked at her, shocked.
“You don’t remember it?” he asked. She shook her head.
“Not at all,” she said, “Was I talking in my sleep?” Derrik looked down at the fire, silent for a moment.
“Lady,” he began, “You were screaming. You had a nightmare, and a very bad one by the sound.”
“A nightmare?” she said, “I don’t remember it.”
“You were screaming about Jerrod,” he said softly. Terra’s blood suddenly turned to ice in her veins and her breath hung in her throat. The nightmare came flooding back to her with grisly clarity.
“I-“she said softly, “I remember now.” Derrik turned his face back to her.
“Lady,” he said, “What did this man do to you?” Her head snapped around to him, her gaze meeting his
.
“He beat me,” she said, “And then, he-.” She stopped, unable to draw breath.
“What?” Derrik asked, “What did he do after he beat you?” Terra shook her head sharply.
“He left me for dead in the woods,” she finished. She bit her bottom lip and looked away from him again. She heard him sigh deeply.
“I know that you’re lying,” Derrik said softly, “I can see that much. But, I can’t see the truth behind it. You’ve shielded that well.” Terra didn’t reply. “Lady,” he said, “You don’t have to keep this from me. Whatever it is, I won’t hate you for it.”
“I know!” she exclaimed, “I mean, I don’t care whether you hate me or not.” She stood and stretched, pulling her arms above her head and exposing a slice of pale midriff. Derrik’s eyes shifted slightly, and she lowered her arms quickly, crossing them in front of her stomach. “What are you looking at?” she asked as she turned from him and began digging in her pack.
“Nothing!” Derrik exclaimed and began poking at the fire, “I mean, don’t change the subject. We were talking about something serious.” She sighed and walked toward him holding a tied cloth.
“Indeed,” she said, “I’m starving. We didn’t eat at all yesterday.” She bent and began untying the bundle. “I brought a whole loaf of bread and some preserves that I canned myself,” she said, laying out the food, “I can also make us some tea.” She filled her saucepan with water from a small canteen. Derrik sighed.
“We should really get moving and stop later,” he said, eyeing the bread, “What kind of preserves are those?” She smiled at him as she tied a tea bag together.
“Peach,” she replied, “I made them about two months ago, at the end of summer.” He sighed again, and took the saucepan.
“Well,” he said, “I guess I’ll boil the water. I mean, since you’re hungry.”
“Good,” she said as she tied another tea bag and dropped them both into mugs. She spread the preserves on four thick slices of bread and resealed them. Once the water began boiling, Derrik poured it over the tea bags, watching as they floated atop the water, staining it pale brown. He handed Terra a mug and then sat across from her, taking a slice of bread.
“It’s delicious,” he said around a large mouthful. She smiled absently and sipped her tea. He watched her for a moment as she drank her tea and picked at her bread, her eyes vacant. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, sipping his own tea. She turned to him, eyes wide with surprise.
“What?” she said, “I’m not thinking about anything.”
“Why so quiet?” he asked as he finished his tea. She smiled wearily and wrapped her fingers around the mug as if seeking warmth there.
“Okay,” she said, “You caught me. I was actually thinking about your brother.”
“My brother?” Derrik said, “Why would you be thinking about Rylan?” Terra shrugged, and stood, collecting the breakfast things.
“I just wonder about him,” she said as she knelt beside her pack, “I wonder what he’s like.” She turned and jumped slightly. Derrik had moved to stand behind her, holding the empty saucepan.
“Rylan is a monster,” Derrik said in a quiet voice, “He’s charming, aristocratic, and cruel beyond imagining.” Terra shivered at the sound of his voice. She pulled her corset and skirt from the bag and turned.
“It just doesn’t seem like he could be that bad,” she said, “Especially since he’s your brother.” Derrik sighed and sat down, leaning his back against a tall oak.
“Make no mistake,” he said as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, “He’s not someone to trifle with. Did I tell you that he’s good looking?”
“No,” she said softly, “I’m going to change clothes, but I’ll still hear you.” He nodded, eyes still closed. She walked behind the oak and began undressing.
“He’s beautiful,” Derrik said, “He’s always been very beautiful and very deadly. He feeds almost exclusively on human women, luring them somewhere alone with him, saying all the right things. They trust him, and they want him. Then, he kills them. He rips out their throats and drains them dry. He’s savage. He made my father proud.” Terra walked from behind the tree, folding her clothes, listening to the bitterness in his voice.
“Valuing cruelty as an asset is a disgusting thing,” she said, kneeling beside him, “No one should find merit in such filth. Not your father. Not your brother.” She reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his. He opened his eyes, still looking up. “Not you,” she continued, “You shouldn’t care whether or not you made your father proud. He was a heartless beast.” He closed his eyes again and squeezed her hand.
“If he was a beast, then so am I, Lady,” he said, “I am blood of his blood. Like father, like son.” She sat next to him with her back against the tree and laid her head on his shoulder.
“You’re not the same as they are,” she said, “You don’t kill innocent people for sport. You even said that you could take blood from people without harming them.” He snorted.
“Sometimes I hurt them,” he said, “Sometimes I kill them.” She looked up at him and he turned to face her. He bared his teeth at her, moving his face closer to hers. “You shouldn’t forget what I am,” he said in a soft, menacing voice, “I am my father’s son. I haven’t had human blood in a long time.” He moved with lethal speed and was in front of her, hands clamped on her shoulders, pressing her against the tree. She met his gaze, lips trembling inches from his own. “You should be nervous,” he said.
“If you want my blood, take it,” she said as she tilted her head to the side, exposing her throat, “You’ve had plenty of opportunity to kill me and you haven’t. You’re not evil, Derrik. I’m not frightened of you.”
“You should be,” he said as he moved closer to her. She could feel his breath, hot against her neck. His lips brushed against her skin as he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Do it,” she whispered as she closed her eyes. She folded against him, the pulse in her neck beating softly. He brought his thumb to her throat, drawing the nail across the skin. Terra inhaled sharply as he nicked her, blood trickling from the cut. He ran his tongue over the spot, tasting her. Suddenly, he pulled away from her, looking down.
“We should go soon,” he said as he leaned back, “We’ve wasted too much time this morning. It’s nearly midday.”
“Why did you stop?” she asked, reaching for his hand. He pulled away from her and stood, holding his hand out to help her up. “You didn’t have to stop,” she said as he pulled her to her feet, “I told you to do it.” He turned from her, placing her folded clothes in the pack and pulling the straps tight.
“I had to stop,” he murmured, “I can’t take your blood.” Terra moved behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Why?” she asked, “Don’t you want to?’ He turned to her, taking her hands into his own.
“Of course I want to,” he said, “That’s the problem. I want you, and I can’t control myself when I’m with you. My body can’t tell the difference between wanting you and wanting to feed from you. I don’t know if I could stop.” His hands moved to cup her face as he drew closer to her. Terra held her breath as she stood with him, any movement threatening to bring their lips together. “I meant what I said, little witch,” he murmured as his lips lightly brushed her own, “I want you. I have since before I first saw you. I could smell you, your beauty and your power. I ached for the bearer of that scent. I ached for you.” Terra remained against him, rigid. Derrik’s eyes, burning with desire, locked with her own.
“We should go,” she whispered, turning her face away from him, “Before it gets much later.” She gently broke his hold on her and hoisted the pack onto her shoulders.
“Indeed, we should,” he said quietly as he turned to deal with the remains of the fire. Terra pulled the clasp from her hair and shook her head, finger-combing the unruly dark tresses. She pulled it away from her face and tried to juggle the clasp from one hand to another. “You should leave it down,” Derrik said, walking around her toward the path. “Why is that?” she asked, following him. She released her hair and slid the silver clasp absently into the pocket of her cloak.
“You just should,” he said as he led them out of the forest and back onto the path. He stopped for a moment and knelt, touching the dirt path. “Someone’s traveling ahead of us,” he said, “Quite a large group. They have at least three wagons.”
“Should we take a different path?” Terra asked. Derrik shook his head.
“No,” he said, “But be on your guard. It could be a hunting party, but it’s probably gypsies.” He stood and continued walking up the path.
“Are gypsies dangerous?” Terra asked, looking into the dense trees.
“They can be,” he said, “If we should encounter a band of gypsies, don’t refuse them anything. Accept their hospitality, their food, anything they offer. If you do that and be polite, then you’ll live to see another day.” She shivered and moved closer to him.
They walked for most of the day, the dirt path growing narrower. Soon, the path was gone, leaving a wide aisle of grass through the trees. Derrik stopped, looking ahead at the dense forest. Soon, they would be completely surrounded by trees without even the illusion of a path.
“We should stop for the night,” he said, surveying the orange sky, “If we go in there tonight, we’re apt to get lost.” He turned and began walking off the side of the path.
“What about the gypsies?” Terra asked, standing at the edge of the trees, “Shouldn’t we stay on the path tonight?” He stopped and turned to her.
“We may encounter worse than gypsies if we remain in plain sight,” he said, “Besides, they’ve probably already moved on.”
“All right,” she said, following him through the trees. The night came quickly, reducing the forest to a sea of black and blue shadows. Derrik reached out and took her hand, holding it tightly in his own. “What’s wrong?” Terra whispered.
“I just don’t want to lose you,” he whispered back. Suddenly, he ducked behind a large boulder, pulling her with him. “Quiet,” he whispered, “I saw a campfire through the trees ahead. It’s probably the gypsies’ camp.” She faced him, eyes wide.
“You said they had probably moved on by now,” she whispered.
“I guess he was wrong,” said a deep male voice from behind them. They both turned to see three armed men standing behind them. The one who had spoken was walking toward them, sword drawn. “What is your business in this forest?” he asked as he stopped in front of Derrik, the other men moving behind to flank him.
“We’re traveling through the forest to bypass the mountains,” Derrik said, raising his arms, “We’re headed for Ferarr.”
“What about you?” one of the others said as he stepped up to Terra, “Why would such a pretty little thing be making such a long journey?” He brushed her hair away from her forehead and smiled at her.
“She’s with me,” Derrik snarled, “Keep your hands off her.” He reached for the man, grabbing his arm. The man standing in front of him pressed his sword against Derrik’s throat.
“All right, she’s with you,” he said as Derrik turned slowly to face him, “Let Archer go and we won’t have a problem.” Derrik released Archer and slowly raised his arms again.
“No problem at all,” he said menacingly. The other man lowered his sword and stepped back.
“Name’s Javen,” he said, extending his hand to Derrik, “You know Archer. The other one’s Tyron.”
“Derrik,” he said as he shook Javen’s extended hand, “This is lady Terra.” The three gypsies each nodded to her and she smiled.
“Well,” Javen said, “Since we’ve become such fast friends, you will stay in our camp tonight. If we hurry, we’ll be just in time to eat.” Derrik slid his arm around her shoulders and gave the men a strained smile.
“Thank you,” he said, “My wife and I would love to stay with you. Just lead the way.” The three men walked ahead of them, Derrik following with his arm still around her.
“Your wife?” she whispered. He grinned at her.
“It’s the only way we can be positive that we’ll stay together,” he said softly, “Besides, I don’t like the way Archer was looking at you.” She sighed.
“I knew I should have traveled alone,” she whispered, “I wasn’t counting on that much protection.” He smiled and pulled her closer. Not that I mind it much, she thought as she walked with him toward the camp.
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So, that's chapter one. I put in some of the italics, but not all. So, don't give me mechanical advice, please (tee hee). Hope you enjoy!
Last edited by BellaDonnaX; 05-12-2010 at 09:05 PM..
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