After [A Journey of the Twins Novel] (25 page)

Speaking in a soft voice, he walked slowly up to the horses with an outstretched arm. One, then the other, nibbled at his hand, looking for a treat. He grabbed the dangling reins, guided the animals to the only standing wall, and secured their reins to prevent them from leaving before he removed the hobbles. The bridle from one of the horses dropped to the ground. A resounding smack on the rump sent it toward home, wherever home was. The other horse darted around as far as the reins would let it, but calmed down when Joseph cooed to it.

Joseph pulled the horse to where the unconscious man lay and secured the reins to a low hanging branch. He had no fear that the grangoor would return; it was busy with its present meal. The fair-haired man wrestled Garth across the broad back and made sure he was equally positioned to prevent him from sliding off when the horse walked. Once he made it back to where Bravaro was stashed, he would secure Garth with some rope so they could travel at a faster pace.

They reached Bravaro before the unconscious man woke. Joseph grabbed some rope from the saddle pack and secured the captive's hands and feet. Another rope wrapped tight under the horse's belly, forcing the secured limbs to hug the rounded body. Joseph knew time was of the essence. He had to get back to Drayco before it was too late, and he did not want his prize to slip off during the return trip. They were well on their way when Garth recovered his senses.

"Wha ... what's going on here?” he demanded. “Who are you?"

"I'm the only one to survive the slaughter you and your filthy kind did."

"You! I know you! You're the one we captured with that cat, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"What are you going to do with me? I won't give you any information if that's what you're after."

"You don't have to yell. There's no one left to hear you. They packed up right after you disappeared."

Garth quieted down after that.

Joseph turned his attention to the path ahead. In the darkness, he did not want to lose his way, no matter how unlikely that was. The ride lasted another hour before he caught sight of the opening in the trees, and the moonlight that shone down on the open plains beyond.

"We're here. Don't get any ideas. I'll have no problems killing you rather than listen to you rant on about how you were treated."

Shyanne was sitting next to her brother, head hung low, as Joseph rode up. She tilted her head upward at the sound of his approach. He could see the dark circles of worry under her eyes. His heart wrenched in his chest. A bandage hid her left wrist; he wondered what she had done while he was gone.

"I had to give him something. He was dying,” she explained when she saw where his gaze stopped. “I couldn't let that happen, so I gave him some of my blood to hold him until you returned."

Drayco lay on the ground, covered with blankets to help keep him warm. He was so pale. Joseph had never seen anyone with skin as white as his still living. He watched to make sure the chest actually rose and fell to prove life continued within.

"I captured one of the mercenaries.” He jerked a thumb toward the extra horse. “They became separated from the main party and were camped when a grangoor attacked. I took the gift handed to me and ran with it."

Shyanne looked at the restrained man lying on the back of the horse. She stood and walked over to him, stopping when she was close enough to see his face. She crossed her arms on her chest.

"We need to ask you some questions. If you do not answer them, we will kill you.” Shyanne knew he was dead already, but did not want to inform the man of this.

"Go spit on yourself, lady. You'll get nothing outta me."

"Joseph, could you bring this ... man ... closer to Drayco please?” Shyanne moved back to her brother's side.

Joseph walked over and cut the ropes holding Garth to the horse. He left the restraints to the extremities tied. The prisoner slid to the ground and landed hard. He lay there, gasping for a breath. Joseph grabbed a handful of shirt and dragged him over to the pale twin. Drayco made no attempt to move. He was too weak from lack of blood to do anything more than watch. Even the simple task of moving his head brought on a grimace of pain.

"What do we do next?” Joseph asked as he deposited the prisoner next to Shyanne.

"Are you going to answer any of our questions?” she asked.

"No! Nothing! I'm not afraid of you! You can torture me and I'll still not talk!"

"So be it.” She stood, drew her short knife, and brought it toward Garth's neck. Shyanne usually had no problems killing. In this instant, against an opponent who could not defend himself, she hesitated. When she looked into Garth's eyes, she saw defiance ... but also, fear, though none of this showed on his rock steady face. She held the gaze for a second before looking down. The knife followed.

"I can't do it. I just can't do it. I know Drayco will die without it, but...."

Garth stared at the woman in front of him, a look of contemptuous triumph etched on his face.

"You'd let this trash live and your own flesh and blood die?” Joseph was visibly shocked by Shyanne's lack of action. “Well, I'm not going to allow that to happen!"

He grabbed the prisoner by the hair and pulled his head back. The horses with their ripped throats flashed though his mind. He also remembered the instructions given to him prior to leaving; about whatever was brought back had to be alive. Because of this, he put two and two together and knew what came next.

The knife from his boot appeared and the sharp blade slashed the exposed throat quickly. Blood spurted from the cut artery while Joseph put the dying man's throat as close to Drayco's mouth as he could. The shocked look on Garth's face was replaced with one of horror at the sight of his blood being consumed by another.

Joseph refused to allow the struggling man to pull away. He held Garth with the strength of a man intent on helping his friend survive.

Drayco watched the exchange between the three, unable to talk or move during the entire process because of his extreme weakness. He received the gift given to him with the eagerness of a man anxious on living.

Shyanne closed her eyes and turned her head away while Drayco swallowed each drop that poured into his mouth. She could not bear to watch the restrained man's struggles, or see her brother's look of contentment as he drank. She moved several paces away, sat down, and put her face between her pulled up knees.

Garth's eyes haunted her more than she would have ever thought. To have him die in such a degrading manner ate at her. She was ashamed at not helping her brother, but she had morals and standards, standards that she could not compromise for anyone, even her family. She loved her brother dearly and hoped, one day, he would forgive her for what she was not able to do.

The struggles reduced in their intensity as the man slowly died in Joseph's grasp. The lifeblood flowing from one became the life giver for another. When the flow stopped, Drayco reached up and wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve. He plopped the arm down on his chest, glad he was able to make that small movement with little pain. He dared not sit up yet. He knew his limits. For the moment, that was one of them.

Drayco turned his head toward his sister. She sat a few paces from him, completely withdrawn in on herself, her head bowed, her golden hair glowing in the dim moonlight.

"Shyanne,” he managed to croak. “Shyanne, look at me."

She kept her head low and refused to look.

Drayco kept at her. “Shyanne ... please. I want you to look at me. Sister ... please ... look at me."

The effort involved with drinking the blood, after having gone without for so long, was catching up to him. His body needed to sleep. He tried to fight it off so he could continue to reassure Shyanne. Her forehead stayed against her knees; she refused to acknowledge his pleas.

"Shyanne, I love you very much and will never hold anything you do, or don't do, against you. Ever."

Joseph was not sure if she heard the last words; they were spoken so softly. He watched as Drayco's battle to stay awake was finally lost. He slipped into a deep, peaceful sleep.

He made sure Drayco was okay before carrying Garth's body into the woods, away from where the trio was staying. He moved to Shyanne upon his return. She remained bunched in on herself. Kneeling beside her, he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. She twisted away before he could touch her.

"Shyanne, he said he's not holding it against you, and neither am I. I wish you would not hold it against yourself. He's going to be okay.” Joseph sighed heavily before he continued. “Shyanne, I love you. I never thought I would have the courage to say this, but I do. I realized it back at the mercenaries’ camp when I didn't have you there and thought I wasn't going to see you again."

He moved in front of the woman all scrunched into a ball, making sure not to touch her until she was ready. As the words hit her, she lifted her head. Her eyes met his; they began to fill with tears. His heart wrenched again. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and hold her close.

"You helped Drayco survive by giving him some of your own blood. That's a sacrifice most people would not make. But you did,” Joseph pleaded. “Drayco still loves you very much. And so do I."

Shyanne listened to the sincerity in his voice. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Joseph responded with his own passion.

"I love you, Joseph. I love you so very much. I have from the very start,” she said between kisses.

The couple reluctantly separated and walked a few yards away, their fingers intertwined. They wanted to sit and talk without disturbing the sleeping man. Yet, they wanted to be in the vicinity when he did wake.

Once they were settled, Joseph repeated, “I love you, Shyanne.” Cupping her hand with his, he continued, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you grant me that pleasure?"

"I love you too. But this relationship can't possibly work. I will stay young and vigorous while you will grow old and wither away. I can't ask you to live with that cold, hard reality."

"My love for you is not based on whether you outlive me. It's based on the time I have with you. Quality of time, not quantity. That's what's important to me. Can you say the same?"

The passion with which he spoke took her breath away. She gazed deep into his eyes and saw the sincerity and love in his words. “Oh Joseph ... yes, yes I can. I want to spend as much time with you as I can. I have been alone for so long.” Shyanne started to cry again. Joseph wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body.

He rocked her back and forth. With his hand, he reached up and brushed away the loose strands of hair, gently kissing the supple neck beneath. Her sobs subsided as she closed her eyes. She fell asleep in his arms, comforted by his touch. He lay her down and rose to check on Drayco. The dark man was breathing easier and did not show any signs of distress. Joseph moved the blanket covering him higher before returning to Shyanne.

He had grabbed a blanket before coming back and covered both of them with it as he lay down beside the sleeping woman. Joseph put his arm over her. She snuggled against him. Thoughts of Shyanne danced through his mind. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have her. He only wished his mother had lived long enough to see her dreams fulfilled. He fell asleep as the stars above twinkled.

Drayco woke to the stars twinkling down at him from the heavens above. He blinked several times to make sure it was still nighttime and not because he was dead. When he decided he was alive, he realized the pain in his body was gone. He recalled what had happened, how he had gone for too long without blood, which caused him to become painfully weak and fall off his horse, dislocating his shoulder in the process.

The feeling of impending death, which had hung above him for far too long, was becoming a distant memory. The image of his sister putting a knife to her wrist, cutting it to give him some of her blood, was still foremost in his thoughts. He also remembered the torment he had put her through by needing to kill a defenseless man. The indecisiveness when she held the knife at the captured mercenary's neck struck Drayco hard. He never wanted to put her through that again.

He turned his head and saw the other two snuggled together under a blanket, asleep. A feeling that someone was standing uncomfortably close caused him to turn his head quickly to the other side, making the world spin as if he was flying in a tornado. After the world stopped its mad race, he saw a large, ominous shadow standing an arm's distance from him. He was too weak to fight off anything, especially something that big, and was about to call out when he was hit in the face with a warm, moist breath.

"Bravaro, you God forsaken beast from hell ... you nearly put me in my grave,” he whispered to the horse towering above him.

He attempted to reach up with his right arm. The sling, and the pain that followed, reminded him of the injury to his body. Sweat broke out on his forehead and upper lip as the throbbing inched its way through him, laughing at his discomfort. He exhaled the breath he held through pursed lips once the pain ebbed to a dull ache.

"Come here, Bravaro, I need your help to get up.” He kept his voice low so as not to wake the others only a few paces away.

Drayco extended the left arm. To his relief, no monstrous pain arose from the movement. He gripped the reins, and with teeth clenched firmly together, pulled himself into a sitting position. The lack of blood reared its ugly head. It caused the world surrounding him to revolve in a sick fashion. After a couple of deep breaths, the blinding haze and sickening spin faded.

Bravaro had been trained well by the burly man. He stood firm as the dark twin grabbed the bridle and worked his way into a kneeling position. Drayco bowed his head after achieving that small feat because the pain in his right shoulder had increased with the awkward movement. After a lot of resolve, he wobbled into an upright position. The horse glanced back at the man standing on very unsteady appendages as if to ask, “now what?"