Demons bane, p.2
Demon's Bane, page 2
“A toast! A toast to Lord Lindsay, who has won justice for us all!” the half-blood Griswald, his second-in-command, shouted.
Julian raised his cup. “To the end of the war.” He took a deep swallow of mead, and then beckoned to one of his soldiers. “Make sure the men stay on alert. The war is over, but we’ll keep our guard up until we return home.” The man nodded and headed for the nearest sentry post.
The ride back to camp had passed in a blur. Exhaustion still bit deep into Julian’s bones, but after food, drink, and Evelyn’s healing magic, he no longer craved a week’s worth of sleep. She sat curled against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her fur-lined cloak wrapped tight against the chilly night air. Julian kissed her hair. The scent of lilacs, her favorite flower, surrounded him.
Her chin lifted, and she looked at him questioningly. “You seem terribly gloomy for a man who just won a war.”
He stared down at his goblet, wondering how best to explain. Flames reflected off the engraved sides, dark shadows next to shimmering gold. He gathered his thoughts. “Did I ever tell you about my father’s visits when I was fostering with Harbrook?”
“A little.”
“He’d make me duel with Harbrook.” Julian could still picture the courtyard, the audience circling him and Harbrook, the sweat trickling down his spine under the hot afternoon sun as his father watched from the shadows. “Whenever I lost, my father beat me. He called me a coward and disgrace to the family.”
Evelyn rubbed his shoulder, her green eyes moist, but said nothing.
“Harbrook was more than a foster brother. He was my best friend. Everyone knows that demon hunters have the advantage, but that didn’t matter to my father. One day Harbrook came up with a plan. He’d ease back on his power. Just the faintest flicker. Twice, so I’d know it was my signal. On the third withdrawal I was to attack with all my strength.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes. Harbrook pulled back his magic just enough for me to beat him. Nobody ever knew. It was our secret.” While everyone else congratulated Julian on his win, not one word had passed his father’s lips. Instead, the earl had turned and left. Harbrook, his eyes full of sympathy, had clapped Julian on the back. Come on, he’d said. Let’s go celebrate.
“Harbrook loved you like a brother.”
“When we fought today, his magic faltered, the same as when we were kids.”
Her hand flew to her throat. “Do you think he did it on purpose?” she whispered.
“Yes.” He stared into the flames, seeing nothing but memories of his old friend. The boy who had lost to save his best friend from a beating had never stopped guarding his back. Julian had been wrong about Harbrook. His foster brother hadn’t betrayed him. Instead, he’d betrayed the council. Julian prayed they never found out.
“Well, the next time I see him I’ll be sure to thank him.”
Julian laughed. He gently pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Contentment flowed over him as he gazed at his beloved wife. “Now that the war is over, we can return to our estate and raise a family.”
“Yes, we can.” She smiled, and her eyes twinkled. “Don’t you think it’s time we joined the celebration?” She nuzzled the column of his throat. Heat rushed to the surface of his skin as her warm breath caressed his neck. His body tightened in response. She brushed a kiss on his stubbled chin.
“Evelyn,” he groaned, as his blood pounded through his body. He wrapped his arms around her. His love for her stole the breath from his lungs, overwhelming him with its intensity. She’d chosen him, even though he was only the second son of an earl, and had chosen the hardships of the battlefield in order to be near him. He would sacrifice body and soul to keep her safe.
He kissed her, loving the way her generous mouth opened beneath his. She slipped her arms around his neck. Her soft breasts pressed against him and he slid his hands up, stopping short of cupping their fullness.
He broke away, breathing hard. “Let’s return to our tent,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “They can celebrate without us.”
Her husky laugh filled him with warmth. Long lashes framed mischievous green eyes that never failed to captivate him. “I like that plan.”
Images of the many different ways they could celebrate filled his mind. Julian grinned, feeling the weight of the war slipping from his shoulders.
Suddenly Evelyn’s breath hitched. Her sun-kissed cheeks paled in the ruddy firelight and her pupils enlarged until her eyes were black. “Not now,” she whispered hoarsely. Her fingers stilled on his neck.
A low moan broke from her mouth and fear twisted Julian’s gut. Tears welled in her dark eyes. Evelyn had had visions before, but he’d never seen her react like this.
“Evelyn, tell me what you see.” He kept the urgency pulling at him out of his voice as he gently held her.
“No.” Her voice was ragged but firm.
His jaw clenched and a vein throbbed in his temple. What was she hiding? How could he protect her if she kept her vision secret? “Tell me.”
Evelyn caught her breath. She stared past him, her eyes wide and unfocused. She shook her head vigorously, as if rejecting what her vision showed her. Her hair loosened from its coil, the strands falling down her back in a honey-gold curtain.
Tension arced through Julian’s muscles as the urge to battle filled him. His hands flexed on her waist. The logs in the bonfire cracked and popped as they burned, loud compared to her silence. Her skin grew cold to his touch.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“Tell me what I can do.”
An uneven laugh broke from her lips, jarring his nerves. “Nothing. There’s nothing anyone can do.” She flung her head back and inhaled deeply, eyes squeezed tight as tears streaked down her cheeks. When she opened them, they were green once more.
Julian gathered her close. She wearily laid her head against his shoulder. “The camp will be attacked tonight.”
“You saw this in your vision?”
“Yes.”
He beckoned to one of his soldiers. “My lady has had a vision. There will be an attack tonight. Spread the word.” The man ran to alert the others.
“Who will attack? The council’s army?” Did the Mage High Council discover Harbrook’s betrayal? Would they risk restarting the war, knowing more mageborn lives would be lost?
“I don’t know. All I saw were you and your men with your swords drawn, staring towards the field in front of the camp.” Her arms slid around his waist and held him tight.
“What else did you see?” Visions of battle had never affected her to this extent. He sensed there was more that she hadn’t told him.
“I saw a portal the size of a castle gate. It was wreathed in red and black magics, and another color I couldn’t distinguish. The sight filled me with great pain and loss.”
“Why?” Red for blood. Black for evil. Both magics were banned. Plus one more. What could it be?
She hesitated, then said, “Someone close to me will die tonight.”
His heart thudded against his chest. No wonder her vision had disturbed her so much. “Will it be me?” he asked gently.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and scared. Her body trembled against him. “I don’t know.”
Julian grabbed his goblet of mead. “Drink. You need to restore yourself.”
She raised it to her lips and had barely taken a sip before she spat it out. Red liquid gleamed darkly on the ground.
Men all over the campsite were either retching or spitting.
“It’s blood.” Shock filled her voice. She wiped a dot of blood from her bottom lip with shaky fingers. “The attack has begun.”
Horns blared across the night as sentries sounded the alarm.
Julian pulled her to her feet. He grabbed a flask and opened the top. The warm scent of mead drifted up. He handed it to her. “Here. This one is untainted.”
She took a small sip, rinsed her mouth, leaned over to spit it out. Then she drank.
Julian shouted to Kikson, head of his personal guard. “Take my wife to safety and make sure no harm comes to her.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her. The heady warmth of her mouth mixed with the lingering sweetness of mead. She clung to him, the press of her lips desperate against his own.
Her arms wrapped tight around him. “Let me stay here with you. I can help.”
The clang of metal swords and shields rang in the background. There was no time to pursue the matter further. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
“Hurry, my lady,” Kikson urged.
Julian held her tight, then loosened his grasp. He glanced across the campsite where his soldiers stood ready for battle, then addressed Kikson. “Take care of her.”
“Don’t worry, milord.” He clasped Julian’s hand. “I will.”
Evelyn released Julian and stepped back. His guard closed ranks around her, heading for the secret entrance to a cave network they’d stumbled across years ago. She’d be safe there.
Julian’s gaze clung to her as she followed his soldiers. He hoped her vision about someone dying was wrong. They didn’t always come true. She glanced at him over her shoulder.
“I will come for you as soon as I can.” His promise rose above the din.
“Godspeed.” She raised gloved fingers to her lips and kissed the tips in a gesture of farewell.
3
Evelyn trailed Kikson and the other two guards as they slid into the dense woodland shadow. They headed for the limestone cliff that backed the forest. Julian had men stationed at the top, so no attack was possible from behind the camp.
A lump rose in her throat. Her husband might die tonight. Her vision had shown her a black portal on the moors, but nothing else. All she knew was that someone close to her would die. That is, assuming the vision came true. They didn’t always. Often, they were simply warnings. Regardless, it felt wrong leaving Julian so she could save herself. But he was right. The campsite wasn’t safe, and she had to protect their unborn baby.
Evelyn and her guards moved single file through the forest. She pulled her cloak tight to better navigate the shrubs and undergrowth. Kikson led. He held his right hand outstretched before him. A faint green glow hovered above the ground, lighting their way.
Soft swishing noises reached their ears followed by the distinct snap of branches.
“Wait here,” Kikson said. He moved silently in the direction of the sounds.
Loud shouts rang out from the camp, and the clang of metal joined the din. Her fingers clenched on her kirtle and she held her breath. Every fiber of her being trembled with the need to return to Julian. Dear Lord, please keep my husband safe.
It seemed an eternity before Kikson rejoined them. “It was only a boar.”
“What about the camp?” Woodrow asked. “They’re under attack.”
“We escort Lady Lindsay to the caverns first. Afterward you may return to the camp.”
Evelyn’s vision from earlier taunted her. Someone close to her would die tonight. “Maybe Woodrow and Clark could return and you could take me?”
“No. Our orders were to take you to safety. If we are attacked in the woods, we’ll all be needed.”
After an hour, the darkness eased as they reached the edge of the forest. The limestone cliff towered ominously above them, black against the deep night sky. Evelyn stepped onto a pebbly slope riddled with boulders.
“Not much farther, milady,” Woodrow said. He was the youngest of her guards, his features hardened into maturity by years of war.
“Thank you,” she spoke quietly to keep her voice from carrying in the still night air.
She followed Kikson down the slope until they reached a jumble of large boulders interspersed with trees and shrubs. Kikson moved to the right of a slab of rock that stood higher than his head. He pushed some low-growing shrubs aside, exposing a hole that reached no higher than her knees at the base of the cliff wall.
“In here, milady. Woodrow will go first.”
Woodrow dropped flat to the ground and pushed his sheathed sword before him. A few moments passed, and then the yellow glow of a lit torch illuminated the entrance.
“Milady, you’re next.”
Evelyn dropped to her knees. She overlapped the edges of her cloak to form a pad in front of her stomach, and then stretched out flat on the sandy soil. Propping her upper body on her elbows, she rounded her back to raise her belly above the cold earth. Thank heavens the baby was still small. She ducked her head and inched her way forward.
She hated tight spaces. Especially when the weight of an entire cliff pressed down above her. Although she kept her head bent, her hair brushed against the dense stone above. Her breaths came faster and faster. Grit dug under her nails. Don’t panic. Torchlight flickered faintly before her, and she focused all her energy on reaching that light, inch by painful inch.
A hand reached down and Evelyn choked back the sob of relief that rose in her chest. Woodrow hauled her to her feet.
She inhaled sharply and released her breath. The damp air was stale and cool. She dusted the sand and dirt from her clothes then wrapped her cloak tight. Her head still spun from the panic induced by crawling through the rock. She took long breaths to calm her racing heart.
A torch flickered in an iron holder. She yearned for the welcoming dark of a night sky, not the impenetrable black that spread high above her head. She stepped away from the entrance as Clark, and then Kikson, crawled through.
The cavern air was dank and tinged with a fetid animal stink. Bats? She listened intently but heard nothing except Woodrow rooting through his pack. For now, they were the only living creatures in this vast underground hole.
Clark lit two torches. Kikson took one, and Woodrow grabbed the torch from the wall.
“We need to move away from the entrance,” Kikson said. “There’s a spot we can set up camp further inside.”
He and Clark stepped around her onto a natural stone ledge surrounding a viscous-looking black pool. The torches cast flickering circles on the massive ochre-colored icicles that stabbed down from above. The shifting shadows resembled giant claws scraping the walls. Evelyn shivered. Her imagination was running away with her. These caverns meant safety. She needed to settle herself.
She slid carefully onto the narrow ledge and pressed her back against the wall. A pebble tumbled into the water. The soft plop reverberated in the suffocating quiet, and the stagnant water quickly absorbed the ripples. How deep was the pool? It was impossible to tell, but the rock had sunk quickly.
Kikson and Clark stopped, waiting patiently for her to move closer. Their orange-red torchlight flickered across the pool’s inky surface, reminding her of the portal in her vision.
Julian.
Her stomach lurched, and she slammed back against the damp wall, panting.
“Milady, do you need assistance?” Kikson asked. The flickering torchlight distorted his features, making his hooked nose resemble the beak of a bird of prey.
She pulled her hands away from the wall’s rough surface, feeling the indentations on her palms. “Thank you, but no. I needed but a moment.”
Kikson eyed her as she continued her slow progress along the ledge. “It’s only a little further. We’re almost there,” he said.
Another cave opened to the right of the pool. The limestone rose to a large platform a few feet from the water. Kikson reached back to haul Evelyn up. He looked past her to Clark. “Drop the pack.”
Clark placed the pack of supplies on the floor of the cave.
“Everything seems to be in order, but let’s be sure before you return to the camp.” Kikson gestured with the torch to the black reaches beyond the platform. Evelyn strove to pierce the darkness, but couldn’t. Her skin crawled. Anything could be lurking in those shadows. She moved closer to the light.
“This cavern branches into two separate cave systems. Woodrow, follow the one leading to the back exit. Clark, check the branch that follows the water and make sure no one else has been here.”
The men jumped down to the walkway that skirted the water to their left. Woodrow headed for the cavern that opened beyond. Clark moved to the right, following a tunnel that sloped downward.
Kikson lit two torches in holders on the wall. He knelt and pulled a thick wool blanket out of the pack and laid it on the ground.
“Milady, would you care to sit?”
“Yes, thank you.” Despite the many layers of cloth in between, the cold from the stone seeped into her bones.
Kikson paced the broad shelf, every now and then jumping down to the path below.
“Do you think the council’s soldiers attacked the camp?” she asked after he’d surveyed all the exits.
“That would be my guess.”
Lights bobbed in the far caverns. Woodrow and Clark soon reached them.
“All is well,” Clark said.
“I went to the back exit and patrolled briefly outside. Nothing was out of place.” Woodrow hesitated. “I heard no more shouts from the campsite. Everything was quiet.”
Did that mean the attack was over? Was everyone dead?
“Nothing is amiss here. You two may return to the camp.” Kikson’s face was somber. “Good luck.”
“Milady, we hope to return with good news for you.” Woodrow bowed before he and Clark ran along the water’s edge back towards the forest entrance.
Evelyn’s skin itched with the need to know what happened. She was the rebellion’s only mageborn healer. She had to know if it was safe for her to return. “I’m going to summon a vision. I need to see what is going on at the camp.”
Kikson’s brows furrowed above his beaked nose, but he nodded. “I’d like to know what is happening as well.”
Evelyn closed her eyes and focused on the mageborn magic flowing through her blood. “Show me the campsite.”
Nothing happened.
“Did you see anything, milady?”
“No, but I’ll try again. Maybe the water can help me focus my sight.”
Kikson helped her climb off the platform. She drew her remaining magic into a tight knot. Her hand hovered above the stagnant pool.
