Rainstone Ch. 03

Anya stared at the handsome man that held her so tenderly, listening as he explained the complicated process of heredity in his family's home. She could feel Raine's eyes still upon her and knew he would be a cause of problems in the future, but for now, she concentrated upon Ryder.

"So every king must have this sword and then hide it in the last years of his life for his heir to find to prove his birthright?"

"Yes," Ryder said, dipping his head to taste of her lips once more. "You go to my head little Sonya, like the honeyed mead made by the best mead maker of my kingdom. His hand traced her face, cupping her chin to hold her still so that he might memorize her countenance. "Your beauty should be sung about by the bards, little Sonya. Tales should have spread far and wide. How could you have stayed virginal with such beauty? Are there no men where you live?"

"My father kept the bards from touting my beauty, Ryder. He held me close these past years, to tend his home and to keep serf and peasant in line. I collected his taxes and counted his gold."

"He must have feared you to be swept away," Ryder said then chuckled. "Such as what I am doing now." He teased her lips, flicking his tongue at the corner of her mouth until she pushed against his chest, trying to force herself higher. "Do you wish me to take you back?"

Anya's eyes turned dark as she thought of all that would be changed in her father's land. The castle would fall to disrepair, her father would never notice a leaky roof or maggoty bread as long as the mead was replenished and the wenches were at hand. He might not even notice her gone until he wanted to blame her for some mishap. Sonya was the only one that would be hurt by her loss. She would be the one that would fear for her, who would take punishment for her absence

If there was some way to bring Sonya along, she would leave and never look back.

Ryder saw the change in her eyes and the seriousness of her mien. "Sweet Sonya, what fears do you hide in this lovely head? Tell me that I might resolve them for you. I would that there never have cause for these lips to frown and that you would smile always when you are with me."

"I wish that such were possible, Ryder. And if it were only my own pain and punishment that I feared I would have you kick this beast into a gallop and chase the wind with you. But, alas, it isn't just me that will be hurt with my disappearance. My maid..." she hesitated a moment before continuing. "My maid will be blamed for my missing and she will be punished severely when my father realizes I am gone."

"Then allow me to send my man back to collect her and she will come with us as we chase that wind, Sonya." He wrapped his arms around her, holding her even closer even as the horse kept up its steady gait. "There is room and one more little girl will not hold us back on our mission. Danforth Keep is still days away."

"Danforth Keep?" Anya spoke the words with the horror of the Keep's reputation firmly in mind. It was said that devils and demons inhabited the Keep and that anyone who stepped into the bailey of the place was never seen from again. "You can't mean to go there."

"It is where my sword lies, little Sonya. Galinar lies in the highest of towers, behind the fiercest of guards. Once I hold it in my hands then I shall be shown the way to the Rainstone. It is a gem of power and beauty that fits in Galinar's hasp. I retrieve both and I may take my father's place as king. It is my duty, my obligation and my honor, Sonya. I have no choice but to go there."

Anya couldn't help but be impressed by the bravery in his words. But she was also concerned by the nonchalance of his attitude. "Have you not heard of the stories of Danforth Keep, Ryder? No one who goes into the place is seen again. It is possessed by evil."

She slapped at his chest when he had the nerve to laugh at her warning. "Should I say goodbye to you now? Should I stand bravely and watch as you foolishly walk into that Keep never to be heard from again? You expect me to share blankets with you but not to care when you set yourself a fool's mission?"

"Whoa, Sonya, slow down just a bit. Every member of my family has gone into the Keep; there is nothing evil or dangerous about the place. I am risking nothing by going in to retrieve Galinar and the Rainstone. It is my duty and the honor of my family that is at stake, not my life." He tugged at the glove he wore on his hand, wanting to feel her skin against his. He tucked the heavy leather garment into his belt then tenderly touched her face, wishing his hands were not hardened and scared by battle and the leather of reins in his hands.

"I would never risk my life, Sonya, not when I've just found a reason to live." His eyes were bright, his touch almost too gentle.

She'd never had a man treat her with the respect, care and loving he had shown her. She turned her head, pressing her lips against his palm, not minding the hardened skin or the calluses upon it.

"Then don't go into that Keep, please, milord. It is dangerous."

He sighed. "I can't make that promise, Sonya. The future of my kingdom, of my line is in that Keep and I must retrieve it or the lands pass to the next in line. He is a cousin with little sense and even less intelligence. He would take the lands and the riches of my family and squander them on selfish acts, forcing the farmers to lose their lands and the castle serfs to find other work. I cannot allow that if I am to honor my father's name."

"But..." she stopped when his lips covered hers, lifting his head only when he heard the quiet moan that she gave.

"I must, Sonya. I'll be fine." He dipped his head again, only realizing that his horse had quit moving when one of his men tapped him on the shoulder.

"Are we taking a break, Sire? And so soon after beginning the day's trek?"

Ryder narrowed his eyes at Harold. "Perhaps I should send you back to guard the baggage wagon?" He laughed with the rest of his men as Harold reddened. He kicked his horse to a walk and set Anya back into Mirabelle's saddle. "You go to my head, milady. You're less dangerous there."

Anya smiled even as her cheeks grew as red as Harold's. "That is my fault?"

He growled, gritting his teeth when the urge to draw her close again was almost irresistible. "You make me want to call a halt to the day's travel, Sonya." He leaned closer. "I would have our tent be raised so that we might take our ease upon soft skin. I want to feel your thighs against my ears as I make you scream on my tongue."

"Ryder," she whispered, her hands coming up to cover her cheeks. She felt the need in the throbbing of her pussy and the wetness that started to trickle to her thighs. Her voice cracked and he chuckled though the look in his eyes was hot as he gazed at her.

"Yes, Lady Sonya?" he said loud enough for his men to hear.

"You embarrass me, Sire."

"But do I make your body burn and yearn for my touch?"

Sonya was about to answer when an arrow flew past her ear. It swished past Ryder, embedding itself in the trunk of the tree they were passing. Ryder drew his sword, circling Anya and her horse while he called orders to his men. "Stay beside me, Sonya."

Ryder's soldiers shot past them, thundering toward where the arrow had come from. It was a leafy glen and the sound of more horses was loud in the air. The jangle of bridles and the thudding of horse hooves shook the ground and Anya could see Ryder's eyes as he watched after his men. He longed to be with them, catching the ref use that shot at them.

There was the sound of a short battle and Ryder took Anya closer to the edge of the trees, ready for her sake to flee or fight, whichever the situation deemed necessary. But his men returned quickly with a strange being tied between two of their saddle horns.

"What is this?" Ryder asked, sliding off his destrier to move closer to the thing. It was ugly and the smell was almost more than Ryder could bear. "What kind of foul creature are you?"

The beast grunted, its piggish nose in the air. It was black as tar, what hair that sat upon its head was the consistency of rumpled hay. Its face was wide and flat, its mouth full of sharpened teeth, two fang-like teeth cut into its lower jaw from the upper.

Sonya, who'd slid from her horse when she'd caught a glimpse of the beast that had been captured, came to Ryder's side. "It is one of Magnus's beasts." She saw the look in Ryder's face, one of confusion that only grew as he turned back to look at the thing. "He was defeated but bands of his beasts still roam the seven kingdoms, determined that somehow Magnus will be reborn and his reign of terror will fill the kingdoms once more. They kill, rape and plunder whenever they can, certain that their loyalty will be repaid when the dark lord is reborn once more."

"And do you believe this tale to be true?"

She smiled at Ryder's softly spoken question. "No, I don't believe that Magnus will be 'born again.' He had his life and he squandered it with whoring and battles, by trying to take more than was owed and thinking that he deserved it. Magnus's defeat by Prince Balor and Princess Luria was the end of him and of his terror."

"You sound as if you know the royal couple," Ryder said, tucking her under his arm as he thought of what to do with the beast. Captivity was out. They had no time to be guarding such a foul and loathsome thing. But he didn't want her to think him cruel or uncaring by slitting the beast's throat while Sonya watched.

"I was at their wedding, Ryder. It was a beautiful affair and the couple seemed so much in love." She sighed, remembering the sight. It had been a festive and glorious event, one she'd even managed to enjoy despite her father and his beatings. He'd been on his best behavior in front of the gathered royals and she'd hoped that perhaps a marriage contract would have been forthcoming. But if it had been, she'd never been informed.

"I did not see you there," he said slowly, almost as if he didn't believe she'd been of the right lineage to have been invited to the wedding of royals.

"I did not see you either," she said, giving back what she could of his disbelieving attitude.

"What shall we do with this thing, Prince Ryder?" Hal called, interrupting their battle of wills. "It's already tried to take a chunk out of Mal."

Ryder glanced only once at Anya. "Put it down, humanely. A quick death is preferred to a life in chains." He took Anya's arm, taking her back to Mirabelle. "'Tis better you not watch, love. It is not a pleasant sight for someone of a delicate nature."

Anya wanted to laugh. Her father had done as he wanted despite her "delicate nature". She'd witnessed men be beheaded for the crime of not having the proper gold for taxes. She'd seen one tied to a chair that was bolted to the end of a long plank. That plank was raised and lowered into the moat, a foul place full of snakes and strange wriggling creatures that feasted upon the poor man's flesh. She'd had to listen and watch as innocent girl after innocent girl were forced onto her father's cock, screaming and crying, forced to rut upon his flesh as he'd sat upon his thrown, his crown askew upon his head.

She'd hated when he'd brought back a new virgin, tricking her into coming with him by promising her a life of ease and riches as his wife. They arrived full of hope and a kind of naïve innocence that always had Anya wanting to shake them until they realized that nothing was free. Every joy in life had to be paid for with blood and pain. They'd learned at the hands of her father and his guard. Afterwards, sometimes all that was left of the girls was a scarred shell—the horror that had been forced upon them taking their minds.

"Thank you, Ryder," Anya said, bobbing a small curtsey as he led her back to Mirabelle. He lifted her easily, but his hands slowed, pulling her closer instead of lifting her to the horse.

"I feel there are secrets inside this beautiful head, Sonya. I would have you trust me with them. You know I would do nothing to hurt you."

Anya smiled even though she felt a stab of pain hearing his voice calling her Sonya. "Perhaps someday, Sire."

He held her still, kissing her lips, his touch intimately brazen. When he lifted his head, he smiled down at her flushed features. "It will be a long day," he said with a heavy sigh that made her smile.

By the promise in his eyes, she could tell it would be a pleasurable night.

"Raine?" he called to his man. "Go back to the pond where I took my ease last eve and fetch Sonya's maid." Raine nodded, giving Ryder a small two finger salute as he wheeled his mount to do his prince's wishes.

* * * *

"Where's Anya!?" King Philonius roared, kicking at the slovenly guards that did little more than shrug at his demands and return to their drinking and wenching. "Find her!" He kicked at the guards nearest to him, watching as they rose and left the throne room. "After the beating I gave her last night, she should still be confined to her bed."

He knew Anya wasn't there, he'd already been there himself, seeing the blood soaked sheet on the empty bed. A sharp pain struck him hard and he wondered if he'd finally done it. Had he finally killed her with his heavy hand on the whip?

For just a second, he saw the woman he'd married, his wife, Constance. She was Anya's mother and the only woman he'd truly ever loved more than he loved himself. She'd died in childbirth with Anya so there was no way this visage in front of him was his wife.

"No," he growled, his ale soaked tongue mumbling the words. "No, you're dead. You left me."

"And you killed our daughter," the vision said, her finger pointing at him in accusation. "You killed my little girl with your rage and your lust of the drink. How could you?"

Philonius growled his displeasure at this apparition of his wife and the sound of her voice. "You left her to my care so what does that say for you?" He spun, tripping and slamming down upon his thrown, righting his crown upon his temple. The dratted thing never stayed in place anyway. "If you hadn't left me...I never would have become a drunk. This is your fault!"

Sonya hurried into the throne room, knowing it was time to pay for her deception. Anya had never returned the night before from her trip to the pond and Sonya, exhausted, had fallen into a deep sleep, never waking until the first crow of the cock in the yard. She watched the king now as he seemed to be in heavy conversation with one of the candle stands next to his throne. She wanted to determine his mindset before she told him of Anya's disappearance.

Her brown locks were pulled back, pinned in an unflattering style that made her face look squished. Her eyes were hazel, more green then brown but unusual enough to be commented about. She was slender but had wide hips and generous breasts. She had the body of 'a good breeder' her mother had always said. It was just too bad that Sonya didn't want to settle down and marry the candle-maker's son, a nice enough lad, she supposed. But Sonya had always wished for adventure. She'd wanted to find some fine knight who would carry her off. A knight with looks so handsome and pure, he would be a delight to her eyes and to her senses. He would love her and make love to her, sweeping her away to his castle in some foreign land where she'd never have to see King Philonius again.

The king sat upon his throne, staring at his wife. "Don't come in here and think you can tell me everything I did wrong. You died. You left her with me. You knew I couldn't raise a child on my own."

"I know you didn't raise her at all. She's taken care of you since she could walk. And were you ever once good to her, did you ever once say thank-you?"

"Me! Say thank-you to her!" His voice raised on the last word and all in the throne room stared at the king suspiciously. "She should be down on her knees thanking me for not using her like all women should be used! Bitch! How dare you come hear and take me to task!"

Sonya took one look into the king's bleary eyes and knew he'd gone mad. She felt a tremor of fear. How could she tell this man that his daughter was missing? She spun around and left the room before the king had a chance to see her. She quickly went up to her room and packed her meager belongings into a pack. Sneaking into the kitchen, she crept over to the larder and stole a half-wheel of cheese, some crusty loaves and a small jug of mead. She packed that away as well and snuck out the castle doors, not feeling safe until she passed through the town gates. The trip to the pond was one that Sonya knew well. It was a favored place by Anya and one that had always been safe and serene. She entered the tiny clearing and saw Anya's clothes left abandoned upon the shoreline of the pond. Running to them, she carefully inspected the bloody clothes, noting that the material had not been ripped from Anya's body.

Her eyes filled with tears and she sank down next to the clothing, letting her pack fall from her shoulders to the ground next to her.

"Little miss, why the tears?" she heard a strange voice say. Sonya looked up, her eyes growing wide as she saw the little man standing not two feet from her.

"Who are you?" she cried, grabbing her pack to hold in front of her.

"Never fear, never fear, Switch means no harm. But what ails you lady from your beauty and charm?"

"Switch? What switch?" Sonya asked, confusion vying with the tears she was shedding.

"I am Switch," the little man said. He bowed low, his braided blonde locks brushing the soft blades of grass at his feet. "Might I grant you a wish?"

"Have you been here long, Switch?" Sonja asked, pushing her fear of the strange small creature aside.

"I arrived last night as the moon rose full over this precious pond. I saw a fine lady, bloodied and beaten is true, but fine and sweet as freshly collected honey."

"You saw Anya?" Sonya asked, excited now. "Where is she?"

"A prince of a different realm has stolen her away. He is upon a quest and she is his mate. I healed her wounds, a gift to her for she had grievous pain. Now what might I do for you?" He wrung his hands as the most worried of people might and then stepped just a bit closer. "Sonya, dear one, I can give you the man and help you find your mistress. You but give me a gift and it will be yours."

"A...a gift? What kind of gift?" Her voice was soft, her manner as bemused by his words as by his sudden appearance. "What could I have that you would want?"

Switch took two more steps closer to her, his hand coming out toward her hair, stepping back when she jerked away, though he kept the ribbon she'd tied to her hair that morning. "I won't hurt you, mistress," he said, his lips curving into a grin.

"How do I know that you weren't the one to take Anya?" Sonya asked, suddenly a bit leery of the small man.

Oh and what would I do with her ladyship? Stuff her in my pocket? Let me see," he reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a pike that was longer than he was tall. He then pulled out a roasted chicken, mumbling something about dinner; finally, he pulled out a full goblet of mead, not spilling a drop.

Sonya's eyes grew wider and wider as she watched each item appear until he pulled his pocket inside out and it was back to a normal-size piece of material. "H-How..."

"'Tis magic my dear, the same that I used for your mistress. The same that I am willing to use for you. Now, let me see, a knightly man to whisk you away, was that not your wish?"

"But Anya..." Sonya began, only to drop quiet when Switch waved his hands.

"Yes, yes, I know." The interruption was kindly rebuked and Sonya stared at the little man as he quickly stuffed his possessions back into his pocket. "I know of just the man," he said with a grin. He winked cheekily at her and then spun quicker than she could see.