Phantom of the Heart (17 page)

Sterling saw the smile that came over Rom's handsome face. “There is no better reason.” He moved over to the fire, where he turned the meat and poked at the coals. “She is fine. I promise you.”

Hearing that, Sterling bowed her head. An unexpected tear trailed down her cheek and soundlessly fell to the ground. The more Rom said that the more scared she became. She was scared because she could not feel Orla anymore. She had always thought that with such a great love between them their hearts would always have a link. But she felt nothing.

Rom moved closer to the fire and removed the one half-cooked carcass. Sterling met his eyes when he looked to her. “I like my meat slightly cooked. I will leave yours on a while longer.”

Rom went back to his bedroll and began to tear into the bloody piece of meat. Sterling's eyes narrowed, as she studied the way Rom ravaged the small carcass, tearing long strips of he meat from the bone which he swallowed quickly. A blood trail ran from his mouth to his chin. A shudder went through her when Rom wiped it up with his finger and brought it to his mouth. She returned her gaze to the fire, replaying the conversation she had with Cybralle.

“Be vigilant and mentally question every strange thing you see.”
That was what Cybralle had told her. At Sterling’s blank stare, Cybralle had looked at Romulus.
“There are things on this earth which have been named, but still remain unknown to most of mankind.”
She had pulled Sterling into a tight embrace and whispered in her ear.
“Remember the story I told you about the Ulvs when you were little? Keep that at the forefront of your mind as you make this journey.”

Taking her mother's advice to heart, Sterling kept her eyes open. There was a lot she had noticed, questioned and not been able to rationalize. As inconspicuous as he was, Romulus had given her a wealth of reasons to sleep with one eye open. Every night, for the past three days, Romulus had been the one doing the hunting for food. As was the case tonight, she had not noticed any knife or arrow wounds on their dinners. The carcasses usually looked as if they had been thoroughly mauled. She began to wonder if he actually scavenged the carcasses off some other predators. There was also the howling that started a few minutes after he disappeared into the darkness. Upon his return, he smelled strange, wild and untamed, with his veins swollen and visible even from where she sat across from him.

The fire popped, and Sterling looked up quickly. She was a little spooked to find Rom's eyes on her. He averted his gaze and returned to picking the carcass clean. Sterling moved to the fire and pricked her dinner with her dagger. When there was no blood showing, she turned it to the other side.

“You are an exceptional hunter, Rom. These are the fattest rabbits I have ever seen.”

Rom grinned at her, but continued to eat. He was so intent on his dinner, savoring each bite, that Sterling decided to not interrupt him any further.

Chapter 17

“Have there been any sightings?”

“Yes, milord, but I have forewarned everyone to avoid approaching her at all, or if they must to do so with caution.”

Gentro put his hand on the man's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for keeping her safe, Clemes.”

“Will there be anything else, milord?”

Gentro looked around the room that had, until three weeks ago, been his daughter's cell. His daughter? Just the thought of that made his heart yearn for her.

“Do you know how often she shifts?” He turned his gaze on Clemes and saw the answer on the man's face even before he voiced it.

“She has not been human for a very long time. I have asked around and everyone I met could only describe her wolf form. I apologize for being the bearer of such distressing news.”

“No need to apologize, Clemes. You are a great help to me already. One more thing though.”

“Yes, milord.”

“Ridat. Does he know about her?” Gentro genuinely feared this particular answer. His cousin was a vengeful beast and would think nothing of using Orla to get to him.

“I do not think so, milord. However I doubt we will be able to keep it a secret for long. Ridat's spies have infiltrated our ranks.”

Gentro knew the man spoke the truth, his logic irrefutable, but to think that that vile creature thought he could best him, made him furious. He felt a tingling in his mouth, a sign that his Ulv was stirring, taunted by his anger. He turned to leave the cell. Outside, he took huge gulps of the crisp air to calm himself. He heard Clemes move behind him.

“Milord?”

“I am fine, Clemes. Just keep an eye on her and keep me informed. I would also like to know as soon as Rom returns.” He had turned and started down the pathway which would lead him to his palace when the soldier spoke again.

“Romulus has been seen camping in the valley for the past two nights. I personally hunted with him the one night.”

The nobleman swung around, his pale eyes sharp. “Then why does he not come here directly?”

“He mentioned that he needed more time to break the news to the princess about the Ulvs, before compromising our safety.”

Dear heavens, Gentro thought, the princess actually followed a stranger into a strange land where two wolf clans feuded. She must really love his daughter very much. He was suddenly eager to meet this woman who had captivated his daughter so much that she decided to give up humanity so she could hide her loss behind the slowly disappearing memories when in beast form.

“Would you like me to accompany you, milord?” Clemes' voice broke through his reverie, and Gentro blinked at the man before he remembered the question.

“No need, but thank you.”

Gentro slowly made his way down the path. At the place where it split, he came to a stop. His head turned just in time to see the large dark shadow bearing down on him.

***

Ridat loved being in wolf form. With the change, all inhibitions and reason bled away leaving a euphoric sense of freedom. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air. He caught a faint whiff on the breeze and a soft whine escaped his lips. The females would soon be in heat. He had found himself a mate and over the years, had added greatly to the expansion of his pack. Sadly, none of his offspring had inherited his Ulv gene. They were all shape shifters and could move between wolf and human form, but that was it. It was rather saddening that they would never be able to assume the majestic bipedal Ulv form. Brainless dogs! That was all they were. As a result, many of his sons were not here today. They had been killed off during battles. Strange, but he did not really feel anything when they died. He was more relieved than anything to be rid of the insult and ridicule they had brought him.

He shook his fur and slowly made his way down from the ledge to where a group of wolves were playing. Although he knew it was part of the wolf nature and a favorite group activity, seeing it irritated him immensely. One particular wolf trotted over and bowed, an impish invitation to play.

Without any warning Ridat's claw shot out, catching the unsuspecting wolf under the chin and flinging him a few meters away. He was not like them. He was different, superior. He commanded respect at all times. Maybe it was time to refresh their memories. With his head held high, his ears forward, and his tail raised, he made his way over to the injured pup. The pup rolled over to expose its belly, paws folded across its chest and hind quarters lifted off the ground.

For a few seconds, Ridat stared down at the male and then he lowered his head. A grunt escaped his lips as his body stretched, his snout bulging out as his eyes grew larger. When the shift was complete, Ridat stood over six feet high on muscled hind legs, his arms hanging like tree trunks at his side. He threw back his bulbous head and let out a mighty roar. When he lowered his head to look at the pup, he could smell the sharp, sulfuric scent of urine.

He planted his paw on the smaller wolf's belly, physically pinning it down, while his eyes skewered the pup. With a quick movement his claw flicked out, ripping the smaller wolf’s head off. Lost in the sudden craving for more blood, Ridat continued to rip the wolf's carcass to shreds. Only when his blood had cooled down to simmer did he let up. By then, there was only a bloody mass of tissue strewn around him.

He turned his gaze to the other wolves only to find them all crouched in a submissive posture, their ears flat against their heads. Those who were still in human form were shaking so bad he could hear their teeth clattering.
A lesson so long overdue
, he thought. He roared again and lowered himself until he was on all fours. Now it was time to take them all for a run. The pack has been idle for too long and he had missed his Ulv so much.

***

The night was quiet, too quiet. Sterling slowly opened her eyes and scanned the area around their campsite. Rom was lying on his back, his head turned away from her. He appeared to be fast asleep. Sterling's eyes moved back to the darkness around the fire.

Something was there. She could feel it. Feel it watching her. She carefully tightened her grip on her sword, its presence a definite comfort. Her eyes roamed the perimeter outside the firelight again and this time she swore she saw movement.

“Rom,” she whispered softly.

“I saw it too.”

“What is it?”

“I am not sure.” This time she heard a little concern in Rom's voice. “Just be ready. We might have to leave here in a hurry.”

***

Mesmeria jerked awake with a scream on her lips and her hands clawing at the air.

“NO! NO! NOOOO!!!” She fought harder when she felt two arms curl around her.

“Easy, my love. It is just me.”

At the sound of Cybralle's voice, she threw her arms around her wife's neck and climbed into her lap. The tears came in deep wracking sobs that made her feel as if her insides were torn apart.

“Shush now. It was just a dream.” Cybralle whispered close to her ear. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

The sobs deepened. “Ster…Sterling…” she gasped between sobs.

“Oh love…” Cybralle's arms tightened around her and, even in her state, she swore she could feel a shudder go through Cybralle's body.

Since Sterling left, Mesmeria had been restless. The thought of her daughter accompanied by a stranger into an area where giant, man-eating wolves roamed freely was not the most assuring thought for a mother. Cybralle had offered countless times to march a battalion of soldiers across the border and bring their daughter back. Even as her heart screamed yes, Mesmeria had refused to place the lives of innocent men and women in danger. Her duty as queen was first to her subjects and then her family. No matter how painful, it was the truth. She could not risk her army on a personal quest, not knowing if the one they searched for was alive. As the days passed, her nights became unbearable. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Sterling's torn and broken body lying abandoned somewhere with buzzards crawling all over her.

As she relived the dream, she tightened her hold as she sobbed into Cybralle's neck. Mesmeria did not know how long she had been crying in Cybralle's arms, but the tears slowly subsided after a while. Her arms, though, were still locked around her wife's neck.

“How are you feeling?” Cybralle asked gently as she brushed her hand over her hair.

Mesmeria could only nod. Her throat was a little tender from all the crying. Cybralle pressed a kiss to her ear and lifted her off her lap, helping her back under the covers. Mesmeria frowned when Cybralle swung her legs off the bed and stood to grab her clothes and begin dressing.

“Where…where are you going?” she asked. Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.

“To get our daughter,” Cybralle answered with stern determination.

“I will not risk any more men than is necessary.”

“Then I shall go by myself. But I will not stay here and watch you die a little every day.” Cybralle walked to the door with purposeful strides.

“Cybralle—?

“My mind is made up, woman. I leave within the hour.” Cybralle left the room.

Still a little stunned, it took Mesmeria a while to process what Cybralle had said.
She was going to go after Sterling alone!
Mesmeria exploded out of the bed and dressed quickly. She had to stop Cybralle. This was suicide.

She found her in the armory, being helped into her silver armor by one of the men. One look at her wife's stony face told her that no amount of begging or reasoning would make her change her mind. Instead Mesmeria nodded and made her way to the palace kitchen to make up a food parcel. Her hands were shaking, as she went through the pantry. If she did not think about why she was making up the parcel, her apprehension was less. In less than a week, she could lose the two women who meant the world to her.

Mesmeria stumbled back against the wall of the pantry as a sob tore through her. She could not remember a time when she was ever so scared. Cybralle was always there to vanquish any and all threats. But Cybralle was willing to go on her suicide mission to save their daughter. As a mother herself, Mesmeria had no right to stand in the way of Cybralle's quest. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and pushed away from the wall. She would be strong for them both, especially for Cybralle. This was a great risk she was taking, but this was not for country and honor. This was for love. Cybralle deserved her support, and she would get it. Mesmeria reached for a hunk of cheese, some apples, and two loaves of bread. She found a leg of smoked pork and a wineskin, then wrapped it all in a cloth and rushed out of the kitchen.

As she rounded the corner of the training yard, Mesmeria came to an abrupt halt. The yard was packed with men—close to five hundred by quick estimation. She could see even more shadows coming down the cobbled streets toward them.

“Cybralle, what is this?” She pushed the food parcel into her wife's arms. Not caring about her informal dress, she turned to the men. They all bowed deeply. “As your sovereign, I strictly forbid any of you to accompany the royal consort on this trip. This is not your fight, and I will not have any of you risk your lives for this. Go back to your families, and let my family deal with this.” Her voice was hard and authoritative. “Now be gone with you lot.”

Instead of moving, the men all sunk onto one knee and stayed that way. Rattled by their blatant defiance, she turned to Cybralle.

“Your queen has spoken,” Cybralle barked. Still, the men remained motionless. For a moment, Mesmeria wondered if she would have to call in her Royal Guard. One of the men climbed to his feet.

“Permission to speak freely, Your Majesty.” The man looked nowhere near the age to be in the army, but his eyes held the look of one who had seen many battles. Out of curiosity, she decided to grant his request.

“Granted!”

“My name is Inhard Weller. A few years ago, I was severely wounded in battle against the Hurians and left for dead. The princess refused to leave me behind and carried me on her back over five miles to safety. With your permission, I would like to take this opportunity to show my gratitude, Your Majesty.”

Before Mesmeria could respond to the soldier's request, another rose to his feet. “Wilon Gress, Your Majesty. Two months ago the Princess took an arrow in the side to save me. Ten minutes later, she was back on her horse and fighting alongside me again. If I have to risk my life, it would be for her.”

Mesmeria could only stare at the soldier, completely at a loss for words.
Oh Sterling…

“Alky Minder, Your Majesty. A month ago we were stranded in the Hurian desert and fast running out of rations. All the men here can attest that the princess refused to be served unless all the men had been served first. Some days she even went without so we could eat.”

A sudden ‘aye' from all the men, startling Mesmeria.

The soldier continued. “Each and every one of us has a personal reason as to why we would lay down our lives for the princess, Your Majesty. We beg you to grant us your blessing to bring the princess back.”

Mesmeria did not know when the tears had started. It was only when one slid down her cheek that she realized she was crying. She quickly wiped them away. Was this the daughter they had raised? She glanced at Cybralle only to find her wife blinking hard to keep the tears at bay. When their eyes met, they both smiled. Pulling herself together, Mesmeria returned her attention to the waiting men. “I grant you my blessing and send my prayers with you.” She tried to make eye contact with as many as she could. “Thank you.”