A War of Silver and Gold Page 10

  “You thought what?” She growled and dug the blade of the dagger on the soil. “That I am a lone female in need of the oh-so-powerful male to save me?”

  He pulled his hands up in surrender. “We must stop fighting if we are to stay together through this.”

  “I don’t care.” She grabbed the dagger off the soil and stood. “I have no respect for your kind nor will I ever have. You killed our people.” She stood by her horse, folding her blanket and strapping it on the saddle. “It’s not my problem Agantha wanted to rut with a lycan. Ramos! I don't care about what kinks she had, but..." She growled again. "I respect the blood that runs through my veins and the blood of my people.” She shook her head, but her voice remained as sharp as before. “I am the Heir to the Throne of the Citadel, if you haven’t noticed already; dragging a traitor with me through the Walls would only spoil my reputation.”

  She let a pained growl out of her lips and gritted her teeth. Waking up in his arms hadn’t hurt her female instincts, but it had damaged her ego. She was wholly dependent on it, and her position as a General and Heir was fairly grasping on the amount of egotism she sported.

  “I am sorry.” He said again, but she didn’t answer him. She stood her ground, wrapping the straps of leather around the horse and securing the saddle. She ignored him and failed to notice his steps as he came to stand behind her.

  He placed his palms on her shoulders.

  She shuddered.

  He tugged gently and she complied by turning around to look at him.

  His breath felt hot on her forehead. “Damn you,” he growled and leant closer. She should have pulled away from him, she should have, but she needed to show she wasn’t afraid. She was dauntless, she was a monster and she didn’t give a damn about it.

  “Damn you...” His voice turned huskier as he gripped either of her arms. Shivers travelled at the pit of her stomach. “Damn you...”

  He leant closer, nuzzling her neck and exhaled soundly. She should have shivered, should have reacted somehow.

  She was a warrior, she had scars worse than anyone, she was barely beautiful with her hollow cheeks and sharp cheekbones, her thin lips and devilishly mismatched eyes.

  She wore armours better than she wore her femininity.

  He had nothing to do with her.

  She was frozen on her feet. He unnerved her at times. If Ael could see how her blood turned to fire every time he glanced towards her-

  If only he could-

  She prayed he would never understand, or find out. She prayed, she truly did, with every piece of religiousness she had left.

  She should have pulled back, slapped him, or better plug the dagger in his guts. She didn’t, though, and it surprised her, astounded her, terrified her.

  “Please, st... step aside.” No matter how cold and unfeeling she tried to seem, she couldn’t help her betraying tongue from stuttering.

  He groaned as he let her elbows go, and his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him as he leant down and trailed kisses from her throat to the skin below her ear. He groaned.

  “What are you doing, Ael?” He exhaled with a sigh and remained there, unmoving, frozen to his stance. “I am not your mate.”

  His moan was one of pain that almost tackled to the ground her self-restraint.

  Her heart fluttered. She was darkness remade. She would not be afraid, she would not yield.

  “You are being too harsh on me.” He pulled away, his eyes inspecting her face.

  “I tried to kill you a couple of days ago.”

  “I know, I remember.”

  She turned away from him; she checked the straps of the saddle and patted the horse. “If you don’t have something else to say then we better leave.”

  “No breakfast today?”

  She hopped on the horse. “The town is close; Nadaon has been alerted that we're on our way. We will breakfast there.”

  + + +

  The land was harsh. The desolate cold biting onto cloth clad skin. Breaths misting in clouds around their heads. The horses’ hooves clattered against the ashes. The breathing of the beasts came rasp and short. The iron swords and daggers slapped against each other with the horses’ steps.

  In the west, the stark, dark and isolated walls of the Sonorow rose like crows, stripped from any piece of pride and wealth.

  Cassia cursed.

  She hoped one day during her reign over these lands that the Towns would prosper. But not as long as the King demanded taxes that were beyond coherent reach. Cassia had struggled against the King’s clutches. She had done anything in her power to protect her city from being in debt to the King’s Vaults. She did anything to allow her citizens another day of freedom, away from the King’s claws.

  The guards on the walls signalled for the doors to glide open, one of them ran down to summon the Lord.

  Cassia guided her horse past the dark stones of the town’s walls.

  The ruby on the cross-guard of her sword illuminated against the faint light, glittering with malice and glory. The civilians continued undisturbed doing their daily chores, and Cassia couldn’t have been more thankful. She was not like the King, she didn’t acquire some abnormal gratification when people bowed before her and kissed her boots.

  She jumped off her horse and grabbed its reins tighter. Ael followed her into the airy stables.

  She hadn’t bothered to talk much with him over the two-hour ride. It was a blessing that they had come that soon to the town. She didn’t know what danger she faced lurking in the town. Her palms itched with the annoyance of not knowing.

  “Lady Cassia,”

  Cassia’s eyes snapped towards the elf standing by the stables' gate, his black hair tucked underneath a silver crown, his green eyes weary, empty and his back was slightly hunched. He was unease and must have been in pain.

  “Lord Nadaon,”

  The Lord’s eyes flickered to Ael, suspicion and something akin to fear flashed over Nadaon’s face.

  “Lord Nadaon this is Ael, he is...” Friend. She paused and shook her head. “He is here to help.”

  Nadaon nodded and coughed in his hand. “I am afraid illness is taking over my town faster than I thought.” He coughed again. “It’s taking over me too, my Lady.”

  Cassia went to his side. It was depressing, somehow seeing that strong elf turning into a mass of hunched spines, sweat and blood. His eyes were dull and dark. The poor elf was bearing over his shoulders the sins of his father before him, a legacy of death and bones. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and pulled her other hand over her heart.

  “Lady, you shouldn’t-”

  She shook her head dismissing his speech. “I swear to you Nadaon for as long as I live you will live beside me. You are not going to die from this.”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but he closed it afterwards knowing that objecting to her oath was a battle already lost. He bowed his head. “Thank you. You are welcome –you and your friend- to join me in breakfast. It’s early and the castle is barely awake.”

  “Let’s go inside then. I am afraid that you only have to show me the way to the fountain or assign someone. You must return to your bed and get better.”

  “I am alright.” He waved his hand and turned around.

  + + +

  Ael murmured something incoherent as they walked down the stairs of the fountain’s entrance. He was unnerved, Cassia could feel it in the way he breathed, she was scared too down there. Her steps, though, were sure against the green rocks that were splayed over the stairs.

  The hairs on her arms chilled and gooseflesh rose on her flesh.

  A voice echoed... the voice of the creature lurking in the dark shadows of the catacombs. She kept her eyes on the stairs.

  She grabbed her dagger with her right hand and cradled her sword with her left. She knew how to kill that creature; it was what she was trained to do.

  She had her own doubts though, deep inside her heart.

  Something was
wrong.

  The Adanei had no motive to strike them at that season. Winter always had them crawling to their castles and white palaces.

  “It’s creepy in here, isn’t it?” Ael’s voice came hushed through the narrow passage.

  “I’ve been in worse places.”

  He chuckled. “I am certain of that, but still it gives you chills.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, the passage turned smaller and narrower, one person could pass through it at a time. It felt as if it would suffocate them and never let them go. It was terrifying, but as she had said Ael; she had been in worse places.

  She pressed her eyes shut. She tightened the grip on her sword, the leather pricking on her skin.

  He likes you... A voice whispered in her mind.

  You like him too.

  He is irresistible, isn’t he?

  You can be his and the world will unravel to you.

  He needs you just as much as you need him.

  He adores you.

  He worships you.

  He needs you.

  He wants you.

  Look at him.

  She pressed her elbow to her forehead and winced.

  Look at him.

  She shook her head.

  Her heart pounded faster inside her chest. It was terrifying. The Lam was playing with her; toying with her severely thin relationship with Ael. She knew though, that the lams never lied, it wasn’t in their nature to lie about things. They kept their own secrets, but they never lied, they were the creatures of truth.

  Look at him!

  The voice was coming closer, approaching them.

  She could feel it wrapping around her mind, around her soul.

  It was petrifying. Chills rose to her flesh.

  LOOK AT HIM!

  She snapped around, her head bumping onto Ael’s. The little devious creature had tricked her into turning around.

  She cursed under her breath. She shook her head manically and pulled away from the lycan, her steps were heavy and disoriented.

  She couldn’t be there, she couldn’t.

  The walls, the narrow passage, the thick air that stank of mildew, Ael’s questioning eyes, the voice of the Lam in her head, her own beating heart. She struggled to breathe, ghostly restraints spread over her flesh like molten iron, burning her.

  Ael extended his hands, grasped around her arms and shook her.

  Her eyes widened, her consciousness returning back to her. The restraints gone.

  She looked at Ael, her eyes widened at the relief that washed over her. She let go of her prejudices and embraced him. Her mind blank, save for the words of the Lam.

  He likes you. He needs you. He worships you.

  They never lied. She didn’t want to kill the Lam, not when it told her the most beautiful thing she had ever known. Someone needed her, wanted her, worshipped her even with all the stern and sour remarks she had thrown his way, even after she tortured him and dragged him hanging from her horse throughout the city.

  It was something new to her. To know that someone cared for her. She shook her head and pulled away from him.

  She didn’t want to kill the creature

  “We have to go back in the castle; something dark is lurking down here.” He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing at her quivering lips. “Are you alright?”

  The heat that radiated from him made her realise that something was going, indeed, wrong inside her mind. She suddenly became very aware of what she had done. She had hugged him and he had seen her face full of fear and terror.

  She straightened her spine and kept her chin high. “No, we have to continue.”

  “Cassia, I swear if you are not alright and you are lying to me, I will get you out of here by any means I know.”

  His voice was full of a concern that she had never heard being addressed to her. It was scary, but altogether soothing.

  “I am fine. We have to talk with the Lam at least, if not kill it.”

  “You are here to kill me?” Cassia covered her ears as a loud voice cupped over the passage, the walls pulsated around them. Ael got before her, somehow protecting her from whatever was coming. The Lam had overheard them.

  The voice came closer. “I have a message for you.”

  Cassia blinked.

  They stood close to each other. He worships you. She knew it must have been all lies, but somehow deep inside her, she could faintly see the goodness inside the elf.

  “What message do you bring?”

  The Lam hissed, spreading it cold fingers out to Cassia. “From Lord Beathan Eathon, the Lord of Feremony.”

  Cassia winced, tugging her arms away from the Lam’s grasp.

  Feremony!

  Anger took over her.

  She had been tortured for three months in Feremony by their distasteful Lord. The sword on her side seemed to pulse at the mention of its birthplace. She shivered. She had taken the memories of torture from that place and closed them, locked them away in the back of her mind.

  She couldn’t help it. A surge of horror surpassed her. She pressed her eyes shut and groaned. The images were fresh and her mind was too weak. She remembered the sinister laugh of Feremony’s Lord, former Lord, Conor Eathon. She shuddered and flinched as the Lam’s hands turned warmer on her arms as if it was asking for forgiveness for the torture she had been inflicted with decades ago, before the War.

  She still remembered the darkness and the wetness of her cell in those mountains. She had hardened further after that, never trusting anyone, never believing anyone. Her heart was not made of flesh but steel, the same steel as her sword, unharmed by time and untouched by mortal toil. She was full of hate back then, full of hate for the Adanei.

  It had been a gift –somehow- for the King. She had fought in the War like a demon, beheading and slaying like a bloodlust monster. His executioner, the pride of his crown, what his son had not been. She was devoted to her King, heart and soul, whatever he asked her; she did as long as it concerned the extinction of the Adanei. She was a monster from a royal bloodline. She had born those titles with pride and confidence.

  “I have nothing to do with Feremony.” She spat with a loud voice and a determined mind. Ael’s arms gripped her tighter as he pulled her closer to him.

  “It is Conor’s son who rules in peace now and seeks for your help in unifying the Elves.”

  Her anger overwhelmed her. How dare they? How dare they call her to aid them in an ailing cause? They had killed her innocence and destroyed her, corrupted her, burned her soul with dragon fires.

  “Leave my city, monster. Leave us alone because if you don’t, I will trespass the Wall and I will kill the Lord of Feremony with my sword and bring his head to my godly King.”

  There was a small silence in the room, but the creature spoke again, its voice chilling. “The waters here are poisoned by your King’s men, not from the Adanei, ask for the physician in the castle, he has the cure and doesn’t give it away.” Another pause took over the passage. “The Adanei have changed, Lady Cassia.”

  “Leave, your message is delivered. Get out!”

  “Lady, take my Lord’s plea in your heart. We have to unify against your mad King. He –my Lord- gives you free passage through the wall and a guide to bring you to Feremony. He would wait for you, should you want to pass.”

  She gritted her teeth in disgust. “Be gone!”

  A blasting light sliced through the passage that blinded both of them.

  Cassia screamed as Ael covered her with his body against the light.

  The world seemed to stop and slow down; she could only feel the Lam’s words so evident in her mind, she was certain she would be dreaming of them for many nights to come.

  Everything stilled.

  The light was gone, the waters began to run again and a soothing silence took over the place. She panted, holding her blades in both of her hands, her palms tightening around the blades’ handles.

  Cassia bit the inside of her cheek and hardened her
facade. She straightened her spine, slowly untangling herself from Ael’s arms.

  “We have to tell Nadaon.” His voice stopped her thoughts from continuing their sick dance about her head.

  “We have to get the physician and take the cure. It must be stopped.”

  “It wasn’t the Adanei. lams don’t lie.”

  “I know.”

  13

  Cassia’s feet planted firmly on the slippery stairs leading away from the fountain's dark dens. Ael's breath came faster than before from behind her shoulder. Her sword went into its sheath with a whoosh. She kept the smaller dagger on her palm, the silver handle shone against the light of the dim sun.

  Their feet clattered against the stone floor.

  She lunged forward, throwing the heavy, wooden panels of the doors before her open with a thud. The physician's chambers were plain and simple, a bed with black sheets and red draperies hanging around it on one side and a white door across the room.

  She inhaled sharply, her heart beat faster in agitation. She walked through the room in a straight line, counting the beats of her heart to maintain silence in her mind.

  Her arms stretched with force at the white door and the wood cracked open. Her feet unyielding against the floor, never faltering or missing a step. She tilted her head to the side and clenched her teeth, a faint growl escaped her sealed lips.

  The physician looked up from the papers before him. A sinister smile spreading over his mouth.

  "Lady Cassia,” he exclaimed. "What an honour to have you in my humble abode!"

  She dragged her resistant feet along the ground, the hissing of her boots against the stone and the clapping of the sword against her leg were the only things filling the air around them.

  The physician mustn't have anticipated it, his head was bowed low and his eyes intently glanced at the floor.

  She took her opportunity to strike.

  She grabbed his long, dark hair in her fist, hissing at his face. She raised her hand and swiftly pressed her dagger against his neck.

  "Where is it?" She growled. “Cut the horseshit, Theoston.”

  His laughter was so ominous. She shuddered. She pulled at his hair in an innuendo to tell him to stop, but he didn't. He turned his head to look at her, but pity was all that crossed his features.