About A Dragon. G.A. Aiken
refused to serve her. She’d been getting similar treatment all over the market. They all seemed to fear her, but he wasn’t sure why. Magick surrounded her, but it was untapped—almost stagnant. Something a typical human peasant would never know or see. Nor was she marked as a witch like his sister and so many other females with power. Nothing marred that beautiful face. So why they all seemed to hate her, he had no idea.
“Wait.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “Yes?”
“You’re not safe here.”
“Well, that’s a new approach.”
“I’m not joking. Do you not see it?” He glanced around at the vendors watching them. “They despise you. They fear you.”
He knew fear like that. He saw it every time he flew over a town or spotted a battalion too close to his territory. To be quite honest…he loved that fear.
Her smile faded and she pulled the worn cloak she’d recently put on tighter around her. She deserved better than those ugly clothes. She deserved the finest silks and wool to drape that body.
“You think I don’t already know that? You think you’re telling me something new and shocking?”
“Then why do you stay?”
He saw it. In her eyes. A deep weariness, coupled with fear. “Because I have no choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
“Perhaps knights such as yourself do. But I am not that lucky.”
The one she called husband walked out of the local tavern and glared at the pair of them. “Come on,” he barked at her.
“Aye,” she called back. She looked at Briec and smiled. “I’ve enjoyed our conversation, knight. It’s been nice talking to someone who can—”
“Create full and complete sentences?”
That grin returned and, for a moment, his heart actually stopped beating. “No. It was nice to finally meet someone whose arrogance is only rivaled by the arrogance of the gods. Now, if you’ll excuse me”—she leaned in and whispered good-naturedly—“my servant awaits.”
She winked at him and walked away. And he knew right then it didn’t matter who she bound herself to, he’d have her…at least until he was done with her.
She placed the food in front of her husband, and turned to walk away. But he grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her to his lap. She didn’t fight him. She knew she didn’t have to.
His lips touched her neck and she forced the repulsion back. She decided to think about other things to distract her and immediately, strange violet eyes came to mind. She didn’t know they’d built men that size in these insignificant little Northern towns. For sixteen years she’d lived here and it seemed like any man taller than her left the village to become a soldier or a castle guard. The remainder were not very tall nor very handsome.
Ah, but that knight…by the gods, he was absolutely magnificent. Covered from head to toe in that expensive black cape, all she could see were those beautiful violet eyes and that face. Gods, that face!
Outrageously arrogant, too. But it amused her. Mostly because she didn’t have to live with that every day. If she did, she might kill him in his sleep—once she was done with him, of course.
Still, she should have never spoken to him. Strangers didn’t come through this little village often and it had gotten worse in the last three years. Even with one of the main travel roads cutting close by, less than a day’s foot travel away, the traders and travelers who once came often, came no more.
Those in the village recently started to blame her for the lack of outsider gold. Of course, lately they’d been blaming her for everything. A cow died…her fault. A child caught the brain fever…her fault. One of the village women twisted an ankle…
Apparently everything was her fault. My, she never knew she had such awesome powers.
Aye, their lack of kindness made speaking to the strange knight from parts unknown easy, but a dangerous chance to take. He would feel no need to protect her or respect the bonds of her marriage bed. Yet, she simply couldn’t help herself. He’d been so outrageously ridiculous he made her smile. And, the gods knew, she didn’t smile often.
She doubted she’d see him again, but he would be a nice memory to hold on to.
Finally, her husband pushed her away with an angry snarl.
“Evil bitch, what have you done to me?”
She strained herself trying not to sigh in annoyance. This conversation had become tiresome ten years ago, now it neared intolerable.
“I know not of what you speak, husband.”
He stood, knocking the chair over in the process. “Lying bitch! You’ve hexed me or something! I get near you and…” He gritted his teeth and glanced down at his groin.
“I don’t understand, husband.” She barely reined in her sarcasm. Barely. “From what I understand many of the ladies have been lucky enough to find out what a steed you are in bed. I assumed you’d merely tired of me.”
Then he was there, his hand raised. She didn’t flinch, which is what he wanted. But she knew he’d never follow through. He’d only hit her once and quickly learned never to do it again. Of course, since then, he’d looked at her like a demon incarnate.
Just like now.
Unwilling to take the risk, he turned over the dining table and stormed out into the night. Tomorrow, he’d return with muttered apologies and it would all start once more in a month or two.
For sixteen years this had been her life and it would continue to be her life until told otherwise.
With a sigh, she righted the table, cleaned up the mess, ate a little of her own dinner—without the herbs she’d put in her husband’s meal—cleaned the grime of the day off her body, put on her white nightdress—after securing the dagger tied to her thigh—and finally crawled into bed.
As she drifted to sleep she thought of violet eyes and arrogant men in chainmail.
Chapter 2
They dragged her from bed before the two suns even rose over the Caffyn Mountains. She fought as best she could, but the noose they’d wrapped around her throat cut off her ability to breathe, weakening her. And they bound her hands tightly with coarse rope because they feared she’d cast a spell on them. She had none to cast, but what really annoyed her was her inability to get the dagger still tied to her thigh.
Of course, only she would get an entire town to try and kill her. Nice one, idiot.
Strong men threw the end of the rope over a sturdy branch and slowly pulled her off her feet. They didn’t want her to die too quickly. They wanted to watch her hang for awhile, and it looked like they’d prepared a pyre for a good, old-fashioned witch burning.
Lovely.
The man she called husband screamed at her. He screamed how she was a witch. How she was evil. How they all knew the truth about her and now she would pay. If she weren’t fighting for her life, she’d roll her eyes in annoyance.
But what truly galled her…what set her teeth absolutely on edge—other than choking to death—was that the goddess who sent her here all those years ago was the same one leaving her to die.
She thought the evil bitch would at least protect her until she finally accomplished what she needed her to do. What she’d been training to do since she was sixteen.
But Talaith, Daughter of Haldane, had learned long ago that no one was to be trusted. No one would ever protect her. No one would ever do anything but use her. Eventually she’d learned to trust no one but herself.
Of course a few