Fractured Dreams Page 4

  “What’s it about? Am I going to be pissed when I hear the news?”

  “I’m not supposed to ruin the surprise, but I don’t want to stand out here any longer than I must, and the senseless bantering will only make my man-sack shrink more in this cold.”

  “Wise man…” She jabbed the fork into another slab of meat for the kits.

  “The big news is your brother Vlew has accepted the hand of the scrawny Houseslip sister to be his bride. Everyone is in a twitter over the news. Isn’t much of a secret. Can I tell Mother you will do as she asked?”

  Alegria nodded.

  “Good, I will see you tonight. I take my leave of this frigid weather you love so much.” Before she replied, her older brother slipped into the frozen fog that settled in the valley outside the kennels.

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed Saunders quietly working to listen. When she first found him, he could barely speak the language, but every day she could see the light of understanding sparkle in his eye. He understood more than he let on. He was wise and quick-witted and kept this knowledge to himself.

  “Get back to work before I turn your skin into a lampshade,” she growled. It was a hollow threat. Human flesh made for weak leather. It was more of a test of his language ability. His eyes dropped to the task at hand, and he went back to picking up the caine droppings.

  Maybe it was the tone in her voice, but Alegria was fairly certain he knew what she said. Maybe I should kill him now before he attacks me to escape, she thought.

  Her spear always close at hand, it would be nothing to run him through with the point. His time serving her had helped his body grow. She could see the muscle mass returning to his body. She obviously fed him too much.

  Before she decided what to do with her slave, a resounding horn blast made its way from the lower tunnels. The sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  Deep inside the mountain tunnels, a series of alarm mechanisms had been built into the walls. They were massive horns that would blow when activated. Once started, they would run until the cisterns that powered them ran dry.

  Their importance to the city was never downplayed. They were tested every other year during the warm season, and the home-hold held a celebration when it happened. They stood as one of the many marvels of the city’s construction. Built long ago, they were a warning against the creatures that lived within the under-earth. Guarded by soldiers around the clock, the chance of them being triggered by accident was low, if not impossible.

  In the middle of the snow season, it was unheard of for a test. Never in Alegria’s twenty seasons had they blasted unannounced. Now the cry of the horns signaled the unthinkable. Something bad happened in the tunnels, something that would cause the guards to send a signal for every adult to be prepared for an attack.

  The impossible must be happening. Her home was under attack. It only took two steps for her to reach her weapon.

  Saunders stopped working and stood to look at her. He sported a raised eyebrow and stupid look of ignorance plastered on his blank face.

  She witnessed no evidence he could defend himself or her. Her gut said he should be left in the kennel, chained with the caine kits. If the attack reached the kennels, he would be defenseless. Any intruders would probably bypass the kits, but a human male might be too nice a prize to leave behind. Or he might be killed where he stood.

  In a few steps, she clipped the leash to the silver band around his neck. She would risk taking him with her. Better than letting her prize fall at the hands of others.

  The male didn’t fight the leash. She had beat him near unconscious the first time he refused. After that, he never complained. She knew the day would come. She would need to beat him again over his captivity or kill him when he tried to kill her. As long as his survival depended on her good grace, his hand should be stayed. Once that deterrent was removed, all bets would be off.

  Inside the main gate of the home-hold, was a platform meant to impress visitors to her cave. From the elevation of the first landing, it was possible to look down at the main passageway through the center of the hold. The most influential families of the people lived on this corridor. It led to the chief’s holdings and the tunnels to the lower reaches of the under-earth. Taller than a five-floor home, the great avenue stretched till nearly out of sight.

  The home-hold stood in chaos. Most people had been away from home without weapons. Men and women ran with purpose, but in every direction possible. Those that armed themselves ran toward the gates that should have sealed off the tunnels under the home-hold, under the chief’s hold.

  Alegria never made the floor of the great avenue. From the entrance platform, the scene stretched out before her. Creatures from the depths of the earth had somehow made it into the city. The sight of severed limbs and splattered blood stopped her in her tracks.

  A vanguard of four-legged scaled monsters killed everything in their path. They moved with grace, their claws digging deep into the stone. The walls of the holds offered no obstacle to their movement. Twice the size of a man, they moved with uncanny agility and speed. Open windows above the ground invited the monsters inside for a killing spree.

  Behind the beasts, a cohort of bald mud-covered fiends followed, black arrows raining death on the unsuspecting. From Alegria’s perspective, the battle for her home was lost. Somehow, the attack had reached deep into the city, nearly to the gates outside, before the alarm could be raised and the gates closed. Now the soft underbelly of her home was exposed, and beasts were ripping into it with abandoned ferocity. Any of her people caught in the open were dead. Most hiding inside a hold would quickly follow.

  She let out a primal scream as her friends and family died below her. In an instant, her body stiffened as she moved to attack the nearest monstrous animal that tore into her friends. It was cut short when an impressive blow struck her skull from behind, knocking her unconscious. She never saw what hit her, as she slapped into the handrail and slid to the floor.

  Chapter 6, Della Villa:

  Della didn’t sleep the whole time their cave had been invaded. She hadn’t slept much since her abduction. The days spent in the bag all mashed together, and the rainy overcast skies did little to help her keep track of the passage of time.

  Since her Black Knight released her, she spent most of her time clinging to his back. The lack of shoes made walking on the frigid ground impossible for any distance. She’d been taken from her city with only another’s bloody nightgown for covering. Now it had been augmented with the sack her captives had carried her in.

  She would tuck her bare feet under his arms, but by the time they stopped to rest, she lost feeling in her toes. The man that carried her sat patiently with her feet inside his light coat against his warmer flesh until the feeling returned. She knew he had to be freezing too, dressed as he was for the city, but he never said a word.

  Her only wish was they had caught the two men that took her alive. She would have loved to exact her revenge on them rather than let the beasts eat them. She would’ve savored the task, stretched it out, and not killed them quickly like she did her brother Brett.

  The revenge on her brother was all behind her now. Forward was waiting the retribution on those that took her captive. If she had heard correctly, her city sat in ruins, plague and insurrection tearing her home apart.

  With no certainty who ran her city, she had little choice but to sneak in and search out the facts before she made any decisions on her next actions. If she was the sole remaining Villa, she doubted control of the city was in her future. She doubted the city would accept a child ruler.

  If Zorra and Ollie didn’t survive, more would pay. Her sister and brother-in-law always treated her fairly. Even the news of Brett’s murder didn’t shake their support.

  Now she might need to avenge their deaths, as well. The pair talked little while he carried her through the snow. First chance she got, she needed something to cover her feet and a weapon. She never wa
nted to be cold and defenseless again.

  The feeling of helplessness pulled on her soul, taking her into dark places she’d not visited since she felt helpless watching Brett rape the maid… She never wanted to feel like that again.

  The snow levels dropped the farther down the mountains they went. Her Black Knight huffed and puffed under her weight but did not once complain. Even when he slipped and nearly lost his footing on the slick ground, he would only occasionally stop and rest. Something drove him from the mountains as clearly as Della was pulled toward the coast.

  Della knew revenge drove her now. Deep in her soul, a pit of rage grew with each passing moment.

  The snow nearly faded on the ground. It left only a light dusting this night. A constant drizzle replaced it. They came upon a cabin in the woods. It was little more than a lean-to that hadn’t been lived in for months. It offered some shelter and a few rags.

  Her Black Knight took a few rags and the longest, thickest sewing needle she had ever seen and set to fashioning a crude covering for her feet from another blanket they found.

  She sat and watched him work. “Are we going to the city?” Della blurted out.

  He shook his head and answered in a soft voice. “Not at first. We need to find out what happened east of the city.”

  “I doubt my answers will be found at a refugee camp.”

  “Perhaps, but some of mine might be.”

  Della wanted to scream, cry, and hit something all at the same time. For all she knew, she might be the last Villa alive, and she needed to know. Her whole life, she had felt like an outsider from the family. The youngest girl with too many older brothers. Never allowed to experience life. The first chance she took to leave the safety of the pinnacle, it bit her in the ass, and she was captured. She slammed her fist into her thigh in frustration.

  “Hurting yourself will do no good.”

  Della decided on a different tactic. “You know I don’t even know your name.”

  He never looked up. “Names are transitory items. What I call myself has little to do with what my parents called me. It has even less to do with what you call me.” Finished with the first shoe, he brought the thread up and cut it close with his amazingly white teeth.

  “How will the gods find you if you don’t have a name?”

  He chuckled. “If the gods need a name, they are not very powerful, now are they? I think, if they exist at all, they will have no problem finding me.”

  His answer didn’t sit well with her. As a daughter of the mayor, a Villa, she was used to having her way… most of the time. “And what if I call you Bob… or Jane, or chair, even… What then?”

  His eyes moved from the sewing in his lap to her eyes, and for the first time, she witnessed him smile. “Call me what you wish. It will not change who I am, or how I think about myself. I will always be me.”

  His words held a deeper meaning, she was certain of it. She just needed a moment to think about it. It came to her in a flood. Della had always been a daughter of Villa. Her whole personality, her being, had been wrapped up with her family and the reputation that came with it. It frightened her because, without her family, she might cease to exist. Of course, that was silly. She would not die… well, until she died. With or without a family name, she would still be herself.

  In the future, it would matter little what or who she was. She would need to be herself, with or without a family strength of knowing who she was as an individual… But who was she? That was a question she’d never given thought and held no ready answer.

  “In the morning, we will travel to the camp to see if we can learn anything.” The man whose true name she might never know finished with the last shoe. She knew his hands had killed many. She witnessed them work before, but with her, he proved gentle while he slipped the covering on her foot.

  She took to calling him her Black Knight, but this man was no one’s servant, she understood that now. She might have paid him, but he did things for more than money. His motivations might always be a mystery to her, perhaps even to himself, but for now, he stayed on her side. She needed to keep it that way. “After that, can we try to find out what happened to my family?”

  “We will do our best, but for now we will keep you safe.”

  The answer was not as she wanted, but it was the best she would receive. Her fate was now tied to her Black Knight. The god of the fates, Harper, saw to it. Now was the time to see where the gods led them both and discover the person she might become.

  The night passed uneventfully, even if Della slept little. She assumed one day she might become accustomed to the sounds of the wild, but that day hadn’t come yet. Thank goodness her young body proved able to cope with the lack of sleep. While she lay awake, the soft deep breaths of her Black Knight gave her a feeling of safety. If he could sleep in these unfamiliar woods, he must feel confident they would see their way out.

  The first time a branch snapped close to the tiny hunt and he jumped to his feet with the slender needle held as a weapon removed the assumption he slept soundly. He was ready to fight before Della even reacted. In a flash, he slipped out into the inky dark. He must be part creature of the night to move unseen and as quietly as he did.

  Then he came back.

  He dropped a rodent’s body inside the door. “This was all I found. Now we have breakfast… go back to sleep.”

  Della couldn’t fathom how a man armed with a needle could catch a much faster animal in the dark without the aid of the moons to guide him. It was one more mystery for her to solve.

  True to his word, he skinned and gutted the animal when the sun rose, or at least the black of night had shifted to the gray of morning. The mist hung heavy in the woods, but there was no snow on the ground. The rain might have even paused for a time.

  Della’s new foot coverings were not as thick as the soft leather boots she once had, but they were a far cry better than her bare feet on the frozen ground.

  Surprisingly, the smell of the rodent cooking made her mouth water. She gave little thought to the origin of the meat when the man offered her half. She knew he probably needed more of the meal, but she was greedy. It had been several days since she tasted a real meal of any kind, and the dried meat the man carried wore off days ago. There was little meat on the bones, but she sucked them clean.

  The Black Knight crunched the smaller ones. Della never thought a sound would make her cringe, but she was so hungry she decided to ignore it.

  Their meal of questionable meat finished, the man bent over for her to climb on his back.

  Della pointed to her feet. “I have these, must you carry me?”

  The man didn’t stand, he stayed bent over. “That cloth will soak up the water. Your feet will be wet and cold as soon as you step outside. That is much worse than being cold. They could rot off before we escape these mountains. No, better for me to keep you on my back.”

  She had not seen him take his boots off since he saved her. “What of your feet? I know the leather will not keep out the water.” Della knew her missing boots were of the highest quality, and when they got wet, her feet would quickly follow. It must have been days since the man dried his feet.

  “We will worry about my body once we are free of these valleys and in warmer heights. Now climb aboard, bending like this hurts my back.”

  If bending hurt his back, she was certain carrying her lightweight for so long must be killing him, but she did as instructed.

  Quickly after leaving the shelter, they found a rain-fed stream. They followed it while it continued to merge and finally flowed into a river.

  Della could see the land change around them. The mountains that once surrounded the deep valleys turned into first steep hills and finally gentle rolling hills, and the river still flowed swiftly filled by the relentless rains.

  Her man stopped, and Della understood why. Not far in the distance stood the walls of a guild villa, it would have been an impressive structure had the fire not ravaged the buildings. Blacke
ned with soot, it was easy to tell a battle had happened, and the home fell to the attackers. The tower inside remained, but the roof had fallen in.

  Her beast of burden bent to let her slip off his back. “I need you to walk. The fight is long past, but scavengers might still lurk about. We might need to fight.”

  Della nodded. She had nothing to fight with, but better to let the man be free to protect them both.

  He turned and produced a small knife, no longer than the palm of her hand. It would be little use in a fight.

  “Hide this. Only use it if you need to. You will need to get very close for it to be effective,” he said.

  Della didn’t need the instructions. She’d killed before, with weapons smaller than this. As a young woman, it was her strength to have people think her helpless long enough to gain access for the deathblow to find its mark. She hoped she didn’t need to kill again, but she was ready if called upon.

  Within a few steps, the water soaked into her makeshift shoes. She felt it squish between her toes with every step. The air temperature proved much warmer out of the mountains and nearer to the coast, but the wet only made her feel colder.

  The damp air worked hard to deaden any sound that might linger in the buildings. However, the noise of harpies flapping drew unmistakable. There must be carrion nearby and, from the sound of the birds, a large quantity of it.

  The trees gave the pair cover as they skirted toward the gate that should lie facing the river. The water would have been the best mode of travel for any guild that built its headquarters way out from the city of Zar.

  Della spotted the gate torn from the wall hangers. Reflexively, she bit the back of her hand when the decoration nailed to the front gate came into full view.

  Someone had taken the time to nail a man’s—she thought more like a teen’s—dead body to the open wooden gate. A gruesome ornament if ever there was one.