Shadow Dagger Ch. 06

He spurred his horse on faster, trying desperately to catch up. But her horse was faster. She looked back and smiled, the wind whipping her blonde hair across her face. She looked so alive. His heart skipped a beat. He needed her with a desperation he never knew existed inside of him.

"You don't want me?" she teasingly yelled back at him. The wind carried her words to him and then whisked them past. He kicked his horse faster but the poor beast was already at its limit.

"You're a cheater!" he yelled into the wind. He doubted she heard his words but she got his message; she winked one silver-filled eye at him.

It wasn't fair that she had advanced more in the training. It irked him that he still didn't know how to manipulate organic life as she had done to her horse. As though sensing his thoughts, she looked back with her normal blue eyes and slowed her horse down.

He caught up with her and they settled into a brisk canter. "Master Marin would be irate with you right now if he saw what you did to that poor horse." His words were a rebuke but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"And who would go tell him what I did?" She quirked her eyebrow at him, knowing full well he would never do such a thing.

He smiled ruefully and ran his hand through his chestnut-colored hair. "Your constant improvement always amazes me, Sarah. Master Marin barely began teaching Organic Manipulation and here you already mastered it."

She shrugged. "It wasn't hard." She smirked at him, her eyes shining with mirth.

"You do love to tease me, don't you?" He gazed longingly into those perfect blue eyes.

She glanced away from his look. "If I can't tease you, what else should I do to occupy my time?" She glanced back at him, her eyes still shining with life and joy. They always were.

"I can think of something you could do," he replied, giving his voice the best masculine sound he could produce at his boyish 160 years.

She threw back her head and laughed. He thought he could die happy listening to that laugh. He heard music in that sound; better than any minstrel had ever been able to pluck from an instrument. "Jocelyn warned me about you. She told me you have a gifted tongue. She also told me to beware its power."

He put on his best affronted look. "Me? I daresay Jocelyn is playing mischief with you. Why, I am the picture of youthful innocence."

"Somehow I doubt that," she said quietly, her eyes shining as bright as ever. They walked their horses in peaceful silence for several minutes.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said.

"What's that?" Her eyes were half-closed to the gentle summer wind and her face was turned to the sun.

He opened his arms wide. "The Segundi Fields," he said simply. His gesture took in the gentle rolling hills that were covered in blue flowers and rows of apple trees blossoming with their succulent fruit.

"Hmmm," she muttered, never really opening her eyes. He took the opportunity to study the most beautiful thing in these fields...her. Sarah, she was named; the Daughter of the Sun. Looking at her now, he never knew a truer name. Her golden curls gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. Her golden skin sparkled like thousands of little diamonds.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

She turned her head toward him and opened her eyes. He stared at her intently, willing her to feel what he felt. The smile slowly faded from her face as she stared back at him. "This looks like a good place for our picnic," she said, indicating a nearby apple tree with her hand.

He nodded. "Yes," he agreed. The word almost stuck in his throat; she was staring at him with an intensity he had never seen or experienced before. He gulped nervously.

He dismounted from his horse and pulled off a blanket from behind the saddle. He unrolled the blanket and set in gently down underneath the apple tree. She took down the picnic basket from her horse and sat down beside him on the blanket.

He leaned back on an elbow, not to appear casual but to avoid her gaze. His heart was hammering in his chest. He had never been so close to her in such isolation. He could smell her scent from this close; she smelled like the sun.

She opened the picnic basket and pulled out a loaf of bread covered in cloth. She carefully unfolded the edges and tore a hunk off the bread. She twisted around and handed him the piece.

His fingers trailed along her hand as he took it from her. He felt sweat bead on his forehead. He felt an ache from between his legs at the touch from her skin.

She smiled at him knowingly. She tore off a smaller piece of bread and chewed it in thoughtful silence. He wolfed his piece down too fast; he almost choked on it. He thanked the God that her back was turned to him as his face reddened before he could swallow the bread.

He spent several minutes gathering his courage as he watched her chewed her bread contently as she took in the peaceful day. He sat up and was about to set his plan in motion when she spoke.

"I've heard troubling rumors," she said quietly.

Her tone was serious. He felt the electric atmosphere dissipate. He almost sighed but said instead, "What rumors?"

"That the True-born have begun acting strange; that they are becoming...violent. Jocelyn heard a rumor that several True-born wiped out an entire village over in Core."

He snorted. "And you believe her? Jocelyn loves nothing more than causing mischief, you know that. Besides, I wouldn't worry about the True-Born. Everyone knows they are an odd bunch. It's the magic, Sarah. They can't help it."

"I know, I know," she replied. She grabbed a handful of grass and threw it up into the wind. She watched the blades of grass dance on the air before continuing. "It's just...I have been hearing a lot of rumors like these lately. Have you noticed anything strange from Marcus?"

He tensed at the mention of Marcus and then let out a slow breath. She didn't know any better, he reminded himself. "Not really. Marcus has always been odd, even for a True-born. I'm told he doesn't sleep well. He says he is haunted by his dreams. But violent? No, Marcus is most definitely not violent."

She nodded her head. She looked up at him and put a smile on her face. "I guess you're right. But these whispers of war have put me in a funny mood. It makes me take stock of my life. I want to live now and stop worrying about the future."

"What do you mean?" he asked. He scooted closer to her.

"I don't care if your father will approve of me or not," she said, defiance painting her every word.

He blushed in embarrassment at her directness. "I...we...I mean...I know we talked about...uh...marriage, but I didn't know...that...that..." He cursed his awkwardness and ran his fingers through his hair, searching for the right words.

"That I love you?" she whispered. She wasn't smiling but her eyes shone with a different light.

He felt his heart flutter in his chest. "Truly?"

She placed her hand on his chest. "How could I not fall in love with you? I don't care if we ever get married. I...I want to live now." She blushed and looked away.

Her declaration of love calmed his nerves. He reached out and caressed the side of her face. "You want to make love to me." It wasn't a question.

She blushed deeper but nodded her head. "Yes," she replied huskily.

He leaned in to kiss her. But she held up her finger in front of his lips. "No, I don't want you to kiss me there." She turned her head and pointed with a shaking finger at her neck. "Kiss me here."

He did as she commanded. He breathed against her neck as he took in the smell of her skin. He felt her shiver. He brought his lips down and sucked gently on her neck. She shuddered even more and brought her hands to his head and held him tightly.

He flicked his tongue out and tasted her skin. He bit down gently and sucked the skin between his teeth. He felt her rapid breathing on his ear.

He felt his cock strain against his pants. He eagerly reached up and pulled down the straps of her dress. She reached out with shaking hands and began tugging on his pants. He kissed and sucked on her neck as he struggled to pull down her dress.

Their frantic movements prevented them both from undressing each other. They laughed nervously. "Ok, you first," she giggled.

He smiled and tugged the dress down her chest. She raised her arms for him and the sleeves slipped off. She blushed as her perky breasts were exposed to the warm summer air. He stopped and stared in wonder. Her skin was truly kissed by the sun. She was golden all over.

His palms were slick with sweat as he laid her down on the blanket. She reached up hesitantly to cover her breasts but then lowered her arms slowly. He kneeled by her knees and tugged the dress furthered down her golden body. Her stomach quivered nervously.

At long last, he completely removed the dress and beheld her naked body. He caressed her thighs in wonder. Her skin felt so smooth and soft. Her body quivered harder under his touch.

He kissed his way up her body. She moaned each time his lips came down. He passed her pussy, the scent almost overpowering him. He stopped at her breasts and played with her nipples by flicking his tongue out. She grabbed his head and brought it hungrily up to her lips.

He kissed her more passionately than he had ever done before. "I am so wet," she breathed in his ear. She flicked her tongue out and sucked on his earlobe.

He groaned. His whole body felt on fire. She bit his neck and ran her hands over his body. She reached into his pants and pulled his cock out. The sensation of her warm, soft hands on his cock was too much for his inexperienced body. He groaned as thick, ropy strands of his seed shot out and hit her naked chest.

Her eyes widened in surprise before she broke out in laughter. He flushed red as the last of his seed trailed off her hand. "Sorry," he muttered, hanging his head in shame.

She didn't let go of his cock. "It's ok. Jocelyn told me to expect something like this."

"Did you girls talk about me?" he asked in outrage.

She smiled and tugged his cock. "Maybe."

He shook his head. "I never knew you two had such dirty minds." He looked up and couldn't help but smile at her.

"I'm not the only one with a dirty mind," she teased. She tugged on his cock again. "This thing of yours is still hard."

He looked down in surprise. "I guess I really want this."

"Well? Are you going to keep me waiting?" The look of hunger in her eyes made him blush again.

Instead of answering, he pushed her down on the blanket. He took off his shirt and flung it aside. He stood up and pulled his pants off his ankles and boots. He kicked his boots off and quickly laid down between her legs.

"Go slow," she said.

He slowed down his eagerness at the look of fear on her face. "I would never hurt you," he told her, smoothing her hair. He kissed her lips gently. "Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. He grabbed his cock and slowly guided it to her hole. He had to take a deep breath himself as he pushed it past her pussy lips. He felt her expand around his cock as he pushed his cock all the way in.

"This is incredible," he breathed.

She bit her lip and nodded. She dug her nails into his back as he slowly began pushing. He had never felt a more amazing feeling in his life. He was so thankful that he had already spent his seed. Still, he felt his orgasm quickly approach.

He clenched his teeth and fought off the sensation. She dug her nails in harder and moaned by his ear. The sensation of feeling his orgasm and trying to fight it off at the same time was driving him crazy. The feeling was overwhelming. He ached to release himself.

Suddenly, she dug her nails in deeper as her body began to quiver. She buried her face in his shoulder as her body shook. He couldn't hold it any longer. He cried out as he released his seed deep inside of her.

He laid on top of her for several minutes as he tried to catch his breath. She ran her hands over his body and kissed him softly.

He looked down into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered.

A sudden gust of wind blew past and stirred her golden hair. Her skin dissolved slowly as the wind carried it off. "I'm sorry," she said, her face rapidly disappearing.

"I know," he replied. His heart broke open and pain poured through his body.

"Will you ever forgive me?" A tear ran down her cheek and was carried off by the wind. Her body dissolved under him. Her blue eyes stared at him sadly and were gone. Nothing was left of her but a pile of ashes. Nothing was left of his heart. The ashes held more than her remains.

His memories of her always turned to ashes.

"I'm sorry," a deep voice said from behind.

He sighed and rolled over. A man stood framed in front of the sun. He squinted and covered his eyes.

The man was tall. He had broad shoulders and wore a long apron. His hands were dusted with black soot and his sleeves were rolled up his massive arms. His black hair stirred in the wind. Dark eyes stared out of deep sockets. A scar ran down from his forehead, over his right eye, and down his tanned cheek.

"Berrick," he said bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Jon. I didn't want this." The man sounded on the verge of tears.

Jon d'Thelas san Ronar turned his head from the man. "Leave me be," he grunted. His nails dug into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

"I just want forgiveness," Berrick pleaded.

"That I cannot give." Jon squeezed his eyes against the pain in his chest.

"Why did you keep the sword?"

Jon jumped up and took off running down the hill. Berrick's voice carried down to him. He could never escape him. Berrick haunted his every dream. There was no respite.

"Why did you keep the sword? Why?"

Jon jerked up in bed. His body was covered in sweat. He panted and rubbed his eyes. Will I ever escape the past? I am tired, so very tired.

Jon heard a knocking on the door and realized that was what woke him. I'm slipping! Next thing I know I will wake up to a dagger in my chest.

Disgusted with himself, he got up and opened the door. A sleepy and haggard looking Ashford stood in the doorway. He pointed back down the hallway. "That crazy beggar is here. How the hell did he get in here?"

Jon's mind seemed to be stuck in mud. "Marcus?" He shook his head and tried to clear his mind. I am getting old.

He pushed his way past Ashford and made his way down the hall. The fire in the fireplace cast dark shadows on the wall. Marcus was nervously pacing by the fire. He turned around at Jon's approach. "Jon, the news is-"

Jon held up his hand to stop him. "Not here." He walked to the staircase in the wall. He heard Marcus' nervous shuffling behind him. Jon reached the top of the staircase and pressed the hidden lever. The wall sunk down into the ground. Jon held out his hand to Ashford and shook his head. Ashford frowned.

Marcus followed him up the stairs and into the abandoned house. Jon turned around and pressed the lever. The wall rose back up. He turned to Marcus. "Continue."

Marcus wiped sweat from his forehead. "The Grand Master of the Emporium was murdered last night. The word is that the Magi Victus have declared war. This is not good, not good." He continued mumbling and bit his lip.

"Events are moving too fast," Jon said, talking to himself.

Marcus laughed. Madness was in his voice. "Fast? No, no, no! History has finally caught up to us! The time of ending has arrived!"

Jon stared at him. Marcus smiled nervously and looked away. "Marcus...are you saying what I think you are saying?"

Marcus shuffled over to a broken window and looked out. "It was the girl, the beautiful girl, the blessed girl! Last night, you know? The one dragged by your minions?"

Jon felt curiously numb. "I had thought..." He shook his head. "I couldn't be sure...she is the one?"

Marcus giggled and turned to face Jon. He was weeping and laughing. For a man who was rarely unnerved, the sight made Jon uncomfortable. "At last! At long last! The wait is almost over!" He cackled as he paced back and forward.

So this is it? All these years waiting and it just...happens? "Marcus, I need you to be sure."

Marcus stopped pacing. The mad laughter faded from his face. A deep sadness replaced it. "My dreams don't lie, Jon. You know that. They have become...stronger these past weeks. I need more payment this time. I did good right? I got the news, yes I did!"

He shuffled up to Jon. His eyes were wet with tears. "I did good, Jon," he said, his voice pained and low-pitched like a child's.

Jon patted his shoulder. "Yes...you did good." He walked to a nearby wall of broken shelves. He squatted on his heels and dug around on the ground. He sighed as he found what he was looking for. He pushed his hand and heard something click. He pulled out a small box of metal from the debris.

Marcus gave a hoot of laughter. "My payment!" He danced around, happy as a dog given a treat.

Jon opened the box. It contained a few small cloth bags, each about the size of a small rock and tied off at the top. He selected one bag and put the metal box back in its hiding place. He got up and turned toward Marcus.

Marcus ran up to him and held out his hand. "Please?"

Jon nodded sadly and handed him the bag. Marcus laughed with joy and pulled an object out of his tattered shirt. It was a battered tea-cup. He looked around and frowned. "I don't have any water. I have to go. No water you see? A man needs water; hot, preferably. And some mint. Mint makes it bearable, yes?"

Jon nodded. "Go in peace, Marcus." I'm sorry. I have never done right by you.

Marcus looked up and smiled sadly. "Don't worry, Jon. It's almost over, remember? Then I can be at peace."

"I hope so," Jon said quietly as he watched Marcus shuffle off happily.

***

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges and the prisoner raised his head. The light of the torches behind the door momentarily blinded him. He squinted and shielded his eyes. "Sanje?" he asked incredulously.

Sanje slipped inside the room and carefully shut the door, leaving enough space to let in a little light. "Alio," he greeted him somberly.

Alio dropped his hands, the shackles around his wrists clanking on the ground. "I'm surprised to see you here," he said.

Sanje squatted down in front of him. He took in the sad state that Alio was in. He was chained to the wall, naked. They seek to strip him of his pride Sanje thought wryly. How little they know us.

Alio had several large bruises on his face and chest. Dried blood was caked around his nostrils and lips. He sat, slumped, against the wall inside a cell no bigger than a body length in any direction. Sanje could barely squeeze inside.

"I'm sorry for what I had to do," Sanje said quietly.

Alio thumped his head against the wall and smiled bitterly at him. "We went over this before I sacrificed myself, Sanje. I have faith in your plan. I sacrificed my life for the Magi Victus the day I made my Shadow Dagger. Every Magi Victus has."

Sanje nodded and hung his head. "I know. Still, it pains me to let the Magi have you. But I have a plan that could offer you a quick death instead of the protracted torture the Magi have in store for you."

Alio stared at him warily. "Why deviate from the plan? The others have already agreed to go along with it."

"Any good plan has to adapt to circumstances," Sanje said passionately. "A great opportunity has fallen into our laps. Raynolt's plans haven't gone according to plan and he needs our help."

Alio snorted. "I still can't understand why you trust that Magi. Do you really expect him keep his end of the bargain?"

"No, of course I don't. That's why he can never know our true plan. He knows I don't expect him to keep his bargain. But as long as he is focused on how I will double-cross him, he will be blind to our plan."