Page 50 of The Darkest Knight

“Or the time,” Liam continued, “when those mad villagers caged us and hung us in a tree to die. I believe we spent four or five days getting to know each other pretty well.”

“Your hair was never messed up,” Padriag replied, “How the hell do you get dragged through the forest by a galloping centaur and not mess up your damn hair?”

His comment ignored, Liam continued, this time smiling at the memory. “Remember the time Gavin and I fought until we practically passed out, and Tristan became so angry he grabbed you and used you like a stick to beat us with?” The Brit let out a laugh. “You screamed like a girl.”

“I did not,” Padriag retorted, “but that shit did hurt, and it wasn’t funny. I don’t know why he did that.”

Liam shrugged, “he’s very strong and you were the closest thing he could reach.” The Brit stopped talking and pulled his horse to a stop. A glazed expression came over him and his body went slack, the telltale sign that he had a vision.

They’d not caught up to the guard yet. Alert, Padriag scanned the surroundings. All seemed clear. Other than the sound of the wind through the frozen branches, it was eerily quiet.

“Hurry, we must go.” Liam urged his horse to a run and Padriag followed suit. Hopefully the guard had not been attacked.

Padriag would have to wait to ask Liam what he’d seen because right now he was having a hard time keeping up with him.

Whiteness surrounded them. A mixture of snow and ice suddenly blew, making visibility impossible. The horses could not be urged to continue forward. Without vision, the beasts became cautious and frightened. The hair on his nape rose. Padriag began to cast a spell of protection over his small party. Liam turned to give him a thankful half-smile that did not reach his eyes.

“What did you see?” Padriag asked, pulling his sword from the scabbard. “Because I feel something tingling the edge of my ward.”

“How strong is your ward?” Liam asked in place of an answer.

“It depends.” Padriag replied, catching movement out of the corner of his eye. It looked like one of Meliot’s sentinels. A black wolf. Where there was one, usually more followed. The pack animals never traveled alone.

Liam’s horse whinnied and reared when two wolves appeared, blocking the path. The huge beasts did not snarl, but merely seemed to study them, their intelligent eyes scanning their bags.

“Wouldn’t happen to have any jerky would you?” Padriag asked Liam. “Maybe they’re just hungry.”

“I doubt it,” Liam replied pulling his sword free. “They are scouts, someone follows.” The Brit charged forward towards the wolves, who simple moved out of his way allowing him to pass.

Now that was strange.

Padriag followed suit, but with the lost visibility, they continued their slow trek. The wolves followed at a safe distance.

“We should have caught up with the guard by now,” Padriag said glancing back at the wolves.

“Not if they missed this storm, or whatever it is,” Liam replied looking about warily. “Look.”

They entered a clearing and the snow stopped. It was as if it had never fallen to begin with. They could see clearly again.

It would have been a very good thing if it weren’t for being surrounded by black wolves and the woman standing in the middle of the landing waiting for them to dismount.

Which they did, not by choice of course. But with the assistance of her magic, which proved to be very much stronger than Padriag’s. He fell to the ground as the woman neared.

Great, it was Meliot’s sister, or was it his niece. What was her name? Irene? No, that wasn’t it. Elaine? No.

“Ouch!” he screamed when she flung a fireball at him that smarted pretty bad.

“My name is Devina,” the beautiful woman told him, her face scrunched in anger. “How dare you forget?”

Padriag stood, back-to-back with Liam, each holding their swords prepared to fight. “Sorry, I have a hard time remembering names sometimes.”

She didn’t see the humor in his comment. “You won’t forget my name again.”