Fiona carefully neared Diato’s campsite. Silently she drew her sword and stepped toward Diato’s sleeping form. He didn’t stir. He didn’t even have someone sitting watch while he slept. But it did not surprise her. He was too confident to fear anything. Using the toe of her boot, she nudged his arm. His eyes immediately opened and a smile slid across his perfect lips.
“Fiona.” He didn’t move, just lay there gazing up at her without seeming surprised to see her. “You’ve come to meet me. I thought that you might. I’m not very happy with you, Fiona. You’ve hurt me.”
“I do not care if you are happy with me or not. You deserve a little hurt for causing others so much.” Fiona pressed her lips together. She wasn’t here to discuss their dead relationship. He just brought out the worst in her and she hated him for it.
“Then why are you here?” He tucked his arm behind his head. She gritted her teeth. “Do you wish to make up with me? I would consider forgiving you.” That was how he used to lay looking at her when he was finished with her for the night. And his words were mocking. But she refused to be sucked into an argument.
“I would still be gentle with you if you have,” he added, one more stab at her.
“Ronan believes Thestian is not who he says he is. He believes him to be Sleagan,” Fiona blurted, hating how he could still hurt her.
Diato stared blankly at her and then slowly frowned. “What kind of silliness is this?”
“He believes Thestian is using you, Diato. Filling you full of information that will make you react with emotion rather than thought.” Fiona prayed he was considering what she said.
“I am not a man to be used,” Diato said guardedly.
No. You use others, Fiona thought, feeling the bitterness of resentment rise within her.
“His reasoning makes sense. I find it odd that he would send his best guards to retrieve a sword that is in no danger when the King of Meris obviously is.” Fiona watched Diato’s eyes narrow.
“Robusk named Thestian at the monastery.” He tucked his other arm behind his head but Fiona could see that his body had tensed. “Robusk is no idiot.”
“No, but he is missing,” Fiona said and then sucked in her breath as a sharp pain pierced her right shoulder. She immediately grasped at the arrow that struck her. Black powder and blood rubbed off on her fingertips. She turned, body suddenly feeling so weak that she had to rest her weight on her sword.
“You.” Fiona’s eyes dropped and widened as they rested on the familiar face behind her. “Why?” But then darkness swirled around her and she collapsed.
“It took you long enough,” Diato growled, rising to his feet.
“I had to make sure I was close enough and she didn’t slow her pace the whole way here. It made it hard for me to keep up.”
Diato scowled. “What business is this about Thestian being SleaganSleagan?” His eyes dropped to Fiona’s arm. It had barely grazed her arm, and brought just enough poison to knock her out.
“Some idiocy that the blacksmith is rambling.”
Diato nodded and leaned down to lift Fiona while some of the guards scrambled to ready the noose. “My sweet little changeling,” Diato whispered and pressed his lips to Fiona’s. “You made this too easy.”
“You are going to kill her aren’t you?”
Diato’s eyes were hard when he looked up. “That’s not your concern. Now get out of here before I decide to kill you as well.” He smiled again when Thestian’s spy hurried back the way he came. Thestian had told him of the one he sent to watch the blacksmith. He’d told him he would be of some help if Diato needed it.
Fiona moaned from his arms and he looked down. “Sleep. You won’t die from the poison. I made sure only enough was used that I could take your weapons away from you.” Fiona moaned again. “Shh. Just sleep.”
“I have to warn Ronan,” she managed to murmur and Diato’s smile disappeared. Even now when she should be afraid for her life, she was thinking of the blacksmith.
“You’ll never see him alive again.” Diato growled down at her, his arms tightening around her. “You are mine, Fiona. You should start getting used to that idea.”
Wake up. Ronan’s eyes instantly opened. He’d been dreaming of Robusk, now a thin, frail wizard with just enough strength to remain alive. His white hair looked gray from the filth that he was made to remain in, his large hands had been bony from starvation.
Seeing the once great King like that had filled Ronan with sadness because he knew that it was more than a dream. He’d asked Robusk where he was but the old wizard had shaken his head. He would not tell him.
Ronan sat up but the dawn was silent. Too silent. Something was wrong. He rose from the cot and stepped outside, adjusting the sheath on his hip. No one had emerged from the other two huts yet and Monty lay curled, snoring deeply a few yards away.
“Blaaaaacksmith,” A voice haunted the air from a distance, then once again, a bit louder. “Blaaaaacksmith.” Ronan frowned, squinting across the moors. But no one could be seen. Ronan stuck his tongue into the air.
“It’s Diato.” Monty’s deep voice caused Ronan to start, nearly biting into his tongue. “He’s still miles away.” Ronan turned to find the dragon standing, fully alert. He hadn’t even heard the creature’s breathing change.
“He’s trying to goad me into a fight.” Ronan crossed his arms and turned his eyes back to the horizon.
“Blaaaaacksmith.” Diato’s voice moaned through the morning.
“It seems he has the same idea as you had.” Monty stretched his legs, causing his great silver scales to glitter in the rising sun. “He waits for his enemy to come to him.”
Ronan took a moment to admire the dragon. He truly was a magnificent beast. “Have you warned your kind about what is to happen?” Ronan asked when Monty yawned loudly. He eyed the dragon’s teeth, considering the damage they could do with one snap of his jaw.
“Blaaaaacksmith.” Diato was not going to give up.
“They know.” Monty nodded and glanced back at the huts. “Will you wake them now?” Yes. Ronan started. Ahearn. It had been Ahearn who had called for him to wake.
“It seems I must.” Ronan grinned back at the horse.
“May I do the honors?” Monty surprised him by asking. Ronan inclined his head for the dragon to do as he wished. Monty smiled and faced the horizon, resizing himself to his natural height. He drew back his head, taking a deep breath. Ronan instinctively put his hands over his ears.
The sound caused the earth to rumble so violently that Ronan went to his knee to keep from falling flat on his face. He closed his eyes and clamped his teeth together to keep them from clacking against one another.
When the dragon silenced, Ronan gave a little whoop and jumped to his feet, grinning. “I’ll bet that will quiet him down!”
Monty grinned viscously and nodded his large head. As those in the huts scrambled outside, Monty shrunk down to Ronan’s height again.
“What’s happening?” Ula shouted with alarm.
Ronan grinned back at her. “Monty sent Diato a little message.” Ula clutched at her chest and blew out a breath, glancing at Keegan and Bryan when they both frowned. Ronan’s eyes dropped to Arien to find his eyes still wide with evident fear. It had scared them all. He hoped that Diato was having the same reaction.
“I thought the dark forces were upon us,” Arien whispered. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“If he does, I will cut off his head,” Keegan said in a low voice.
“Where’s Fiona?” Ronan asked, still grinning, enjoying their reaction to Monty’s roar.
“We thought she with you.” Ula’s lips thinned with a frown.
Ronan shook his head. “She didn’t come to my hut last night. I assume she was still a bit angry with me for yesterday.” Ronan winced. “I acted irrationally and spoke sharply to her.”
Ula stared at him blankly. “She did not come to my hut either.”
“Nor ours,” Keegan supplied.
“Well where…” Ronan’s head snapped around and he stared at the horizon. No, she didn’t. She couldn’t have.
Yes, Ahearn answered.
“Well, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Ronan faced the horse.
Too weak, Ahearn answered.
Ronan frowned. “Keegan, see to your horse. I believe he may be ill.” Ronan looked at Monty as Keegan turned and moved toward the horses, concern filling his eyes. “She went to Diato last night, to spare me a fight with him.”
“It would seem she did not succeed.” Monty tilted his head. “Would you like me to fly the distance and see what’s going on down there?”
Ronan nodded. “As quickly as you can.” Monty resized immediately, and then took off running. He glided into the air, his large wings flapping powerfully. Ronan stood watching until the dragon disappeared.
“Why didn’t she just listen to me?” Ronan growled.
“Maybe she meant to protect you,” Arien suggested.
Ronan’s hands fisted at his sides as hatred boiled within him. If Diato harmed Fiona in any way he would kill him.
“The horses are fine and ready to ride if you want to go after her,” Keegan called.
“We should plan the approach carefully,” Bryan added, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “He is expecting us to come after her. He already has a plan of his own.”
Ronan turned his eyes to the horizon, waiting for Monty to reappear.
This was his fault. If he hadn’t stupidly commanded Fiona not to fight, she wouldn’t have gone ahead. If something had happened to her it was his fault. Ronan frowned as Monty reappeared.
“She is alive,” The dragon told Ronan as he landed. “They have her captured in a mesh bag of some sort. It was obviously their plan to keep her in something she could see out of but could not escape by slithering from.”
Ronan let out his breath but his body trembled with rage.
“She also had a wound on her shoulder that looked like it was marked by Johran poison.” Monty shook his head. “I shall never understand the calloused cruelty of mankind.”
“You have not seen callousness yet.” Ronan’s voice vibrated with the anger he felt. “Get the horses ready.”
“Johran?” Ula repeated. “Not Yarro.”
“No,” Ronan answered fiercely.
“Even if your wizard had not joined his tribe, he has too much honor to betray anyone. His word is as strong as the King’s Sword you carry,” Monty added. “If he suspected what was happening here to one of his tribesman the moors would become a Johran battle ground.”
Ronan could hear the respect that the dragon had for Yarro in Monty’s voice. He’d suspected because they hunted one another’s kind that they would not share any other kind of relationship than sworn enemies but Ronan had heard a similar respect in Yarro’s voice as well when speaking of the Dragols.
“Mikel the Hort was playing with the spears at the Johran village,” Keegan said thoughtfully. “I had to tell him twice to leave the weapons alone.”
“No.” Bryan shook his head. “Not, Mikel.”
Arien looked heartbroken. “He kept asking all kinds of questions about the black tips. I thought he was just trying to figure out how to steal some in case we needed to fight.”
“Blaaaaacksmith.” When Diato’s voice traveled the distance, Monty turned and roared back at him again. Ronan’s ears rang with its force.
“Stop doing that!” Arien surprised Ronan by shouting as he rubbed at his ears.
“That means it was the changeling all along who betrayed us.” Keegan’s mouth set in a grim line. “I’d suspected him at first but he was always so afraid of me. I thought certainly he wouldn’t be capable of betrayal when he would almost urinate on himself if I even looked at him.”
“He didn’t strike me as an evil man,” Bryan said, obviously still convinced. “And we all had a look at that black powder poison at one time or another.”
“Blaaaaacksmith,” Diato interrupted again several of them groaned with irritation. Arien held up his hand and shook his head when Monty grinned back at the boy.
“Don’t,” Arien pleaded.
Ronan turned and lifted his voice. “I am coming for you, Diato!” His voice boomed along the moors and stillness followed.
“Not bad,” Monty offered with a grunt.
“I really don’t think Mikel the Hort is to blame for this,” Bryan continued but Ronan waved a hand impatiently in the air.
“We’ve no time for this. We have bigger problems to face right now. We can solve this later,” Ronan interrupted. Fiona was out there. He had to get to her. He had to make sure she was safe.
“What’s the plan?” Keegan asked, seeming to sense Ronan’s fear that they would not make it in time to save her if they lingered much longer.
“Ride in, rescue Fiona, and kill them all,” Ronan answered simply.
“My kind of plan,” Keegan said causing Ronan to look back at him. “It’s been many years since I’ve killed anyone. It shall be nice to do it now with the permission of a wizard and on the side of Merisgale.”
The hairs on the back of Ronan’s neck rose. The look in Keegan’s eyes was not like any he’d ever seen before. He’d tried to imagine Keegan Yore as the man he’d described once but couldn’t. Now he saw it clearly. He wasn’t the horseman today. He was Doane Vaughn.
“Give me your sword.” Ronan held out his hand and Keegan drew his sword as he approached, then placed it in the blacksmith’s grasp. Ronan closed his eyes. And when he opened them, he was staring down at a replica of the King’s Sword. Well, not quite a replica. The blade was made of regular steel, painted white.
“I want one of those.” Arien’s eyes glittered.
“I need you for something else.” Ronan motioned for Keegan to walk with him away from the others.
He lowered his voice so only Keegan and perhaps Monty could hear him. “If something goes wrong, they will capture you. Make them believe this is the King’s Sword. They will take it and present it to Thestian. Without the King’s Sword he can notcan’t bring the dark forces to take control of Merisgale.”
Keegan nodded, sheathing the sword. “What about the real sword. If something goes wrong, it means you are dead.”
“I have that taken care of.” Ronan turned and raised his voice as he began walking back toward the rest. “You just worry about killing as many of those guards as you can and holding them back long enough for Arien to get to Fiona and free her.”
“You want me to rescue her?” Arien stood a bit taller. “You trust me to do that?”
“I do. Bryan I will need you to help Keegan take care of the guards. You two are the muscle of this group.” Bryan nodded that he understood. “What kind of weapon do you prefer to use?”
“These.” Bryan reared up and punched his front hooves in the air. The muscles of his dark flank were impressive. Ronan was certain he could do some serious damage without the use of a sword.
“Effective,” Monty complimented, apparently as impressed as Ronan.
“It’s all I’ve ever needed. I would be clumsy with a sword,” Bryan said when his hooves hit the ground heavily.
“Ula,” Ronan faced the sorceress. He winced when she looked at him. He didn’t want her to come to harm. He wished he didn’t need her at all but he wasn’t sure enough of his own magic and how to use it effectively.
“Anything,” she encouraged, seeming to know the feelings inside of him. “I am no weakling.” She reached for his hands and Ronan nodded. No, she was probably the most powerful of them all. Her magic was strong and she knew how to wield it as well as Keegan did his sword.
“Can you create an illusion much like the one Yarro has surrounding his village?” Ronan asked and her hands slid away from his as she cocked her head to the side in thought.
Ula smiled slowly. “You don’t want them to see us coming. Yes, I can do that. Perhaps not as tightly woven as the spell Yarro uses but from the direction Diato will be facing, he will see nothing but the moor.”
“And once we are there, bring on the clouds. It might scare the guards enough that they will not give Keegan and Bryan much resistance.” Ula nodded.
“What of Diato?” Keegan asked leading the horses forward to each of the riders.
“He’s mine.” Ronan swung atop Sorcha’s back, clenching his jaw to keep from shouting his hatred for the captain. “Montecu, you know what to do if we fail?” Ronan looked at the dragon.
“I do,” Monty answered. “And call me Monty.” Ronan kicked his horse forward and the others fell in behind him, riding fast and hard across the moor.