The group of soldiers stayed until the embers of the fires died. Not to prevent forest fires. The mages could have smothered the fires with their magic anytime they wanted. They stayed to make sure every remnant of the caravan was burned. Bodies, belongings, dead horses, the grass and trees… everything.
The site of the massacre was a dark gash of ash and carbon in the surrounding mountainside.
They reversed their journey down the mountain under Lyla’s direction toward an alternate route. Once the group had made it to the village, they would need to return back along the original road to block off travel through it from the other side to avoid any exposure to the flowers in case they hadn’t all been destroyed as intended. For now, a new route needed to be forged over the mountains into the High Passes.
Instead of sitting in a bumpy wagon slowing the whole procession along as she directed the group, Lyla was sitting upon a horse in front of Lan. Their horse walked with careful steps in the night beside the commander’s horse. They were at the head of the column winding through the forest. A circle of blue-black light shone down on them below the bubble of mage fire Lan had conjured. It bobbled along following them and lighting the way, impossibly bright for such a dark color.
Additional bubbles of mage fire lit the length of the group casting the somber soldiers in the blue-black light of Chaos magic. They were concentrated around the other mages in the company. To ensure everyone had light to see by, the mages had been spread out among the column of soldiers.
Commander Wroth glanced over at the young couple beside him and rolled his eyes discretely. Lan just happened to be the first mage in the column and therefore the logical person for Lyla to sit with. You know, in case she needed some kind of magical support. And if anyone believed that, there was some lush desert land Wroth was going to sell them to pad his retirement fund. The boy hadn’t neglected his duties once, yet somehow, Rengard Lan hadn’t been more than a few dozen yards from the girl since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her.
This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. But it sure as hell wasn’t good. Not because Lan was royalty. This was a problem because he was a mage. An Imperial Chaos Mage. Regardless of the fact that Lan had refused to pursue the profession and only had the bare minimum required training necessary to maintain his place in the Line of Inheritance and not have his powers bound, the Chaos Magic flowing through his veins meant that any relationship he might want to have could be very…complicated.
Wroth watched his prince for signs of such complications discretely, and nodded grimly to himself.
Lan had been alternating between the somber reflection of the tragedy they’d just left behind, and grinning like a fool as Lyla’s warm scent tickled his nostrils. He’d been careful, so very careful to avoid holding on to the woman in front of him too tightly. The prince had been so lucky to end up in this position that he didn’t want to jeopardize the opportunity to be close to her and risk the commander ordering him to have Lyla ride with someone else.
It was just a coincidence that he’d put himself at the front of the column. Spending untold hours with the woman he’d saved with his kiss pressed against his body was just an accident of how the column had formed up. Lan hadn’t used his position or authority and subtle intimidation to keep every other man away from Lyla. This wasn’t something he’d arranged at all.
His commander cleared his throat and Lan glanced that way. The glare he received from Old Man Wroth, made it clear that the grizzled soldier didn’t believe for one second the line of horseshit that the prince had been trying to feed himself. It was obvious that he’d noticed what was happening to Lan.
For a moment, Lan’s smile faltered as his commander raised an eyebrow inquiringly at him. Lyla, oblivious, continued guiding the horse with his hands on hers over the reins. The prince bit his lip and shrugging, gave a helpless hapless grin. Wroth sighed deeply with disappointment and bowed his head shaking it. It was an action that Rengard Lan was eminently familiar with from the commander’s time as a palace guard when he was once one of many guards responsible for an impetuous young Prince Lan and his siblings. Their silent conversation of facial expression was interrupted by Lyla’s soft words.
“We’ll have to take the deer trail.” Lyla mused aloud to her living comforter, unconsciously snuggling back against him as a chill wind blew up from the ocean far below.
Lan nuzzled Lyla’s ear from behind as he relished the feel of her soft curves in his arms. It had to be the spell, he had done the spell wrong and now he was obsessively drawn to her. This couldn’t be permanent. He’d be in so much trouble if this feeling of delighted possession didn’t go away. It would pass…had to pass… but….ah…Gods…he wanted this feeling to last.
“If that is what we need to do then that is what we need to do, love.” Madness! Rengard Lan had let himself fall into the Imperial Madness. It was temporary. Please let it be temporary. But if this woman fell for him while he was out of his mind for her because of magic, Lan would not abandon her when his sanity returned. His sanity would return. Wouldn’t it?
“Halt.” Commander Wroth called out to the company. “Well make camp here tonight and start up the game trail in the morning.” Lan hopped off his white horse from behind Lyla and caught her by the waist to lower her gently to the ground.
They worked quickly, Lyla insisting on assisting where she could, and soon the few tents left after the burning were assembled. Cookfires were set to crackling merrily and hot food and mulled beer was passed around. Lyla demurred when handed the cup of ale.
“I don’t drink.” She admitted sheepishly and glanced away with embarrassment.
“It’s mulled.” Wroth told her, “The alcohol’s been cooked out of it. It’s just for calories and warmth. But we’ve got some herbal tea if you prefer.” The girl’s face brightened at the mention of tea and the commander handed her a cup he’d been holding in his other hand just in case.
“Thank you.” She grinned from behind the rim of her mug already downing the welcoming warmth. The mood in camp gradually warmed as well. Talking grew a bit louder as the already late night grew later. Occasionally someone would make a joke, and a few would laugh. The soldiers had been respectful of the dead while they’d been around them, but now they were gone, the men were getting back into themselves. The ribald way soldiers joked among each other was returning.
Lyla ate, first one, then a second mug of stew made from dried rations of meat and vegetables. She dipped her only slightly stale day-old bread into the thick broth greedily. Lan had draped his cloak around both of them during the ride and now it continued to warm them as they ate in closer proximity than was strictly necessary. This was not a coincidence. Lan had definitely arranged it.
They were sitting together on a log beside one of the cookfires. Though he had a second cloak in his belongings, Lan had studiously ignored its existence and used warming Lyla with the cloak he wore in addition to her own cloak as an excuse to stay within her proximity for most of the night. All that time Lan held Lyla wrapped up snugly; until she fell asleep once more supported in his arms.
Lan honestly would have continued sitting on the log staying awake all night long to hold her if he’d been allowed to.
“You should let the poor girl have a proper rest, Lan.” Wroth’s gravelly voice chided softly from across the fire. The prince nodded acceptance of the gently worded order.
“Lyla.” He’d nudged her to a bleary-eyed wakefulness. “Let’s get you to bed.” Just enough for her to not fall over as he pulled her up with him to stand. She nodded wearily and let out a little gasp when he picked her up like he was about to carry a new bride over the threshold.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“Lan.” The prince paused at the warning tone in his commander’s voice. “Return here as soon as she is safely in a bedroll by herself.” Lan nodded. He’d deserved that. It was right that he be reprimanded for the way he’d been behaving.
Wroth hadn’t emphasized the words ‘by herself’ in any way, yet there was a subtle undercurrent to the order and the tilt of Wroth’s head that made Lan certain that those were the most important words in the sentence. Then the young man carried the barely conscious Lyla back to the cart and nestled her into her blankets and tucked his cloak around her with proud tenderness so she could rest before they continued their journey
A few of his men nudged each other’s sides with elbows and called attention to the fact that their prince seemed quite taken with the young woman whose life he’d saved. They were under strict orders not to reveal his true identity while out here on the wild edges of the Empire. But no one had said anything about not gossiping about what was going on with their prince. Or making fun of him for it.
The attention which Lan paid to Lyla, meant that the other men had found reason to talk to her as well during the evening. If Rengard Lan cared for this woman, there was a possibility that she could one day be their empress. A slim possibility since he was a second son. And yet…the possibility was there nonetheless.
Lyla was roused by birds singing at daybreak. There were few soldiers up yet besides those who had been set to guard duty. They swayed unsteadily as they tended the cookfires. She approached one of the fires and the man tending it, smiling tentatively. He smiled back with a toothy but tired grin.
“Hi.” It was a cheerful rested word and the apprentice healer immediately felt guilty as the man she had addressed yawned in the middle of his mumbled return greeting.
“Morrrorning…” He rubbed a tearing eye with the back of a fist and grinned back at her. Lyla couldn’t help it. She giggled. It was the young soldier who had been guarding her when she woke up the previous evening. “Finally managed to get away from your guardian, hey?” His question immediately sobered her.
“Yes. I guess.” There was an unusual feeling tingling at the back of her mind. Her guardian. A darkness settled over her thoughts and made a home in the pit of her stomach whenever she paused to think about how abnormally comfortable she was with that man touching her. And that realization, that she didn’t notice when he sidled up to her – or wrapped his arms around her, or nuzzled her ear – that realization she’d had while she was sleeping last night brought with it a heart-pounding terror.
Because she didn’t know why.
Why? What made this guy different from every other man she’d ever known? Lyla sure as hell would smack the shit out of the grinning young soldier across the fire from her if he tried to wrap his arms around her without permission. So why in the name of the Absent Gods was she letting jerk-face that kissed her without permission continue to touch her body in, well, not intimate wayssss….no…
No!
He was trying to be intimate. That pompously sexy kissy-face soldier who’d been like…like a tumorous shadow since she woke up to the raging fire of attraction and desire from his kiss…. That guy, he was definitely trying to be intimate and she wasn’t toing to fall for it.
Lyla hated men. Okay. Not all men. But she wasn’t attracted to them. She wasn’t interested in dating. At least, not yet. Maybe in the future. Absent Gods! She was supposed to get her life sorted before things like boys started distracting her. And men were just gross pigs in the village she came from.
Any guy who wasn’t a family member was trying to get her to run off into the forest to ‘get to know each other better’. And Lyla knew better than to take them up on the offer. A girl couldn’t spend any time alone with a man in her village without someone noticing and assuming that things had happened. Heck, Lyla already had a reputation for being willing to do…things…and she’d never even accepted any invitation from anyone to do anything despite the fact that the persistent rumors meant that nearly every man, married or not, in her village had propositioned her at least once. Lyla had to be extra careful with her reputation.
So, this kisser-of-sleeping-woman that she’d been salivating over needed to back the hell off of her before they got to her village or things were going to be even worse for her. The more she turned men in her village down, the angrier they got since each one assumed that he was the only one she’d turned down and therefore must have something personally against just him. The whole lot of them could go suck an egg.
“Did I say something to offend you?” The timid kind soldier who she was not in the least bit angry with questioned nervously. Lyla realized that her expression had turned to a furious glower and smoothed her face with a conscious effort.
“No.” She reassured him with a hasty smile. “No. I’m just thinking about…I’m not looking forward to returning home.” She surprised herself with her correction. Lyla had just wanted to make sure she didn’t say anything about her ‘protector’ that might offend his comrades. He had, after all, saved her life and they were about to risk theirs to protect her village and others of the High Passes. But now she realized that she really wasn’t looking forward to returning to the stiflingly patriarchal community.
“Ah. I can relate to that.” His worried concern melted, and his timid smile returned. “For a moment I was afraid that maybe Pr…erm…Lan had done something that I’d have to get my butt kicked trying to rectify.” A sheepish laugh escaped his mouth as he ran a hand nervously through his hair.
“Noooo.” Lyla reassured him. “Not…yet…?” The young soldier perked up at the slow hesitant way the young woman spoke and bristled indignantly on her behalf.
“If he ever does something that you told him not to do, you let one of us know. The Commander…that’s Wroth…will put him right in his place. That sort of thing isn’t tolerated from people in Lan’s station. If he even makes you nervous, you speak up and it will be dealt with.” She had to smile as he went on, a timid nervous soldier filled with righteousness for a damsel in distress. “Probably not by me as I’d most likely die in the trying if I ever challenged Lan. He’s quite good with his sword never mind all the mage-y stuff, you know.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” It was a bit absurd picturing this slight young man in a fight against the tall, strapping, and very robustly muscled Lan. She could hear the laughter in her voice and immediately hoped she hadn’t insulted the boy she was talking to. “Not that I wouldn’t be honored for you to defend my honor, but….”
“Hey, I know I’m no match for one of the Im…for someone of Lan’s caliber.” That was the second time the soldier had changed what he’d intended to say about Lan, and Lyla’s eyes narrowed only slightly with suspicion. Interesting! There was something about the handsome mage that she wasn’t supposed to know. “Oh! I just realized I never introduced myself to you. I’m Caleb. Caleb Von Notten the third. Duke of Terrace Mons currently serving my mandatory term with the Imperial Army to maintain my Right of Inheritance.”
“Really?” Excitement shot through Lyla and she immediately forgot all her suspicions. Not excited because she was sitting with nobility, but because she had heard of Terrace Mons and was terribly excited to someday see it for herself. “Is it true that the farms of Terrace Mons really do produce the finest medicinal herbs? The village healer says nothing the world over compares in quality.” Caleb grinned.
“Oh, Madam. You have not lived until you have seen the great terraces of cultivated plants on the Mons. I daresay nothing the world over can compare to any plant our Druids sing to.” And so the conversation progressed as the young Duke extolled the virtues of his home, its exports, its beauty, and its people.
Climbing through the steep game trail was difficult and slow. Many times, the wagons needed to be levered over large boulders and deeply creased but tiny streams. When Lan had seen the terrain that the group would have to traverse to reach the village, he had immediately known that Lyla would again not be able to sit in a wagon. She was the only one who knew the way into the labyrinth of mountain passes that connected hers, and all the other little hidden villages of this land in the clouds.
Taking Lyla by the hand he pulled her to the front of the file where his horse was picketed. Was it wrong to feel such joy that he could be near to her for any reason? A better man would have had the woman he desired ride with another man so as to avoid the temptation to take advantage of her trust in any way. But Rengard Lan was not a great man, most of the time he wasn’t even sure if he was a good man. He was just a man who tried his hardest to do right by the majority of his people.
It would have been a physical pain to let another man near her. With undeserved satisfaction, Lan mounted his stallion with the ease of many years of practice. Knowing that Lyla watched his every movement with her solemn golden eyes, brought a smile to Lan’s lips as he reached his hand down to her. The large sturdy Imperial White took Lyla’s added weight without complaint.
As she settled tentatively in the saddle Lan reached around her to grasp the reins. Then Lan pulled her almost slight (compared to his) body back against his chest. Relieved that Lyla didn’t protest, Lan let his lips rest against her ear and kept her head snuggled in the crook between his neck and shoulder.
With years of familiarity, Lyla pointed out the way to forge the path. Sometimes it seemed as if there were easier ways to go, but patiently following her instructions showed that while her way might seem more difficult, ultimately, she was right. There were hazards in these mountain passes that could only be known from years of travel.