Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas) (19 page)

He set Mesiande on the bed and she groaned out, her eyes fluttering open. When she realized he was letting go of her she grabbed his arm, and she wouldn’t let go of him. “Please...you have to stay. You can’t do anything."
 She begged hysterically. “Please Alador. You
can’t
leave me!"  Her pleas were heartbreaking, and he forced himself to sit down and hold her hand.

“I am right here Mesiande. I am right here. Shhhh."
 He kissed the back of her hand tenderly and pushed hair from her face. Her frantic gaze reminded him of a terrified prang faun.

She clung to him as if to let him go would be to never see him again. He watched her helplessly as she sobbed. His thumb wiping tears from her cheeks. “Shhhh Mesiande. You are safe, and I am right here.”

The healer brought tea and pressed into his hand. “Get her to drink it all, it will calm her."  The healer whispered this into his ear and nodded to Mesiande. The healer had not asked what had happened and seemed to know what must done. Alador met the healer’s knowing gaze for a long moment and then turned to Mesiande.

“Drink this, Mesi."
 He moved to help her sit up. His tone was soft and gentle.

“No, you are going to leave if I fall asleep."
 She accused and looked at him as if to say see when he could not help but wince. He had every intention of finding Trelmar but first he had to see Mesiande safe.

He tried again to put it to her lips, but she tried to shove the mug aside. “Mesiande, Drink this!"
 He commanded firmly. Her eyes riveted to his in shock, but she listened to his more forceful tone.

When he did not immediately leave after a few sips, her tears had settled, so he was able to coax the rest of the tea into her. Although her hands shook and he had to help her, she managed to drink it all. He eventually sat the cup aside and held her hand with one hand and pushed the hair out of her eyes with the other. She still had tears slowly slipping down her cheeks. “I will make sure you are always taken care of Mesi, I swear it."
 He laid down beside her and pulled her close to him. The healer was laying a few things out on a small table by the bed and did not scold him for his laying down with her. Mesiande seemed to settle with him holding her. The healer left them, and Mesiande slowly stopped crying and then fell asleep. He laid there for another ten minutes before slipping out of the bed to go find the healer.

He realized as he approached her in the other room that he didn’t even know her name. She looked up at him with a grim nod. She was an elder based on the graying hair. Her dress was a simple work smock and showed no luxuries in embroidery. Although her home was small, he looked about and realized that she had most everything one could want. Even the bed had been nice like his mothers, and the kitchen had the latest in conventions including a hand pump at the sink.

She indicated a cup of tea at the table and smiled when he looked at her worried. “Nothing in it lad but tea. I need to know what happened to your young woman.”

Alador sat down and took a deep drink of the tea, finding it soothing. He carefully explained what little he knew. He actually did not know much. He knew Mesiande had said Trelmar had hurt her. He knew he had touched her before she had been to the elders for training. He knew he had found her crying and clearly in a state he had never seen.

The healer’s frown of displeasure was clear, but she did not press him further. She looked at Alador for a long moment. “I will need to examine her. If you will be so kind as to wait outside.”

“I promised her I would not leave."
 He shook his head. He looked back to where the bed lay behind the curtain. “She is scared and needs me."  He pointed out.

“If this lad has hurt
Mesiande as you said, I will need to examine her completely, and in ways you should not be present for."  The healer’s tone was gentle, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need to wait outside."  She commanded softly.

A strange feeling of agreement flooded over him, and Alador slowly nodded. He stood up and slipped out of the small hut with the cup of tea in hand. He began to pace as he waited. He remembered the vision of the dragon who had fought to protect his mate. He remembered how allowing such a beast to live only allowed the beast to return in anger. He had let Trelmar live and just as the dragon had stated, he had struck back in the worst way possible. The more he thought, the angrier he got. He wanted to kill Trelmar. He wanted to make sure Trelmar never hurt anyone ever again. He wanted to tell the council what Trelmar had done. Trelmar was likely counting on the fact that his secret of being a mage was worse than what he had done to Mesiande. But Alador knew his father planned to test him before the council anyway. The council would, at the least, banish him. Trelmar, well Trelmar would be hung for what he had done. He was lost in his anger, blinded from sight and sound as he smashed the cup into a post, shattering the shards in all directions.

When the healer came out, she had to call to him to get his attention. “Lad!"  She hollered but wisely keeping a distance. Alador spun at the sound quickly. He searched the healer’s face with real concern and anxiety, his anger abating somewhat in the face of his fears for Mesiande.

The healer put out her hands as if to show she was no threat. “She will be fine. Her fear is more from the emotions involved than the physical damage done. She has some cuts and bruises, nothing that should not heal. The physical damage appears to be minimal, but she will need to be watched for a time. She also has either hit her head or been hit. There is a growing knot on the back of her head. I think it is why she was not awake when you arrived here. In addition, given the violence of her assault, she may be distraught for a time."
 The healer tone was very matter of fact. “Her maman should be told. She will sleep from the tea for a time if you wish to go inform her family. It is wiser to have females about her for a time” Her look made firm the point that his worst fears had been realized. Trelmar had not just touched her, he had violated her.

Alador nodded once. He did not stop and thank the healer. He did not utter a word. He just turned and ran for the village proper. He didn’t have much trouble finding Mesiande’s mother, Elandel, as she was usually one of those involved in the bread making of such feasts. He weaved amongst the women towards where Mesiande’s mother was laughing with a few other adult women. She stopped laughing the moment she saw Alador’s face and the intent manner he had moving amongst the boards and the women.

When Alador reached her, he whispered in Elandel’s ear. “Mesiande is at the mage healer’s. She has been badly hurt."  He placed a consoling hand on either of her arms. “She needs you."  He whispered urgently. He did not mention how she was hurt. He felt it was not his place to tell her.

Elandel’s concerned expression turned to one of fear and horror. She squeezed one of his hands, and when Alador let go, she turned to hurry off. Mesiande had been her only small one. She gathered up her skirts and hurried off in the direction of the mage healer’s.

Alador stood for a long time. He looked around slowly at those milling about him...All around him there was laughter and the murmur of shared secrets. True joy filled the village at the coming of the biggest ritual they shared. It was a joy that Alador did not share. All his life, he had been bullied and taunted by one. Now that he was old enough to defend himself, Trelmar was now targeting those that Alador loved. The world seemed to spin about him. The noise of the village, the cascade of emotion and the smell of baking were a kaleidoscope of senses combating with what he wanted most. He stood there trembling, hands and jaw tightly clenched. A movement caught his attention and his eyes caught a familiar form entering the alehouse. His eyesight snapped the image towards him showing his nemesis laughing with his friends as he entered the doorway. Alador finally moved with purpose, but it was not just anger in his step, it was the movement of a predator.

Chapter Fourteen

Alador strode through the village with single minded purpose. His anger was so apparent that a couple of villagers stepped out of his path. He no longer cared about consequences or getting banished. He had one desire, and that was to beat Trelmar senseless. He had blackmailed Mesiande with Alador’s secret. Trelmar would attempt to deflect the seriousness of what he had done with Alador’s secret. There was absolutely no reason for him to stay his hand any longer. The worst that could come from beating the middlin unconscious was banishment anyway. This rationalization of what he was about to do filled his head as he crossed the ground to the
alehouse. He did not even acknowledge those that waved as he approached. He entered the inn taking only a second to let his eyes adjust. Trelmar and his little band were at the bar, and his friends were about him like he was some triumphant warrior. Alador’s eyes locked with Trelmar’s as he turned and caught sight of Alador glaring at him by the door.

Trelmar pointed him out to his friends with a smirk. “Well if it isn’t our blossoming little hero."
 He voice oozed with derision and arrogance.

The adults in the room looked at the bar for Trelmar’s tone was one of offense and brought immediate adult attention. The bar fell silent as those about realized something was very amiss. Alador did not break stride until he was nose to nose with Trelmar. He grabbed a handful of Trelmar’s shirt, his anger giving him the strength to jerk the stockier man to him. “Give me one reason why I should not kill you right here, right now."
 Alador hissed slowly so only those closest to them could hear. Alador could hear the scraping of chairs in the sudden silence of the alehouse.

Trelmar hid the flash of fear that had showed for a moment when Alador had grabbed him. Trelmar slowly sneered “Ahhhhh, is the little magling jealous?"
 He looked at his friends in amusement and then looked back at Alador with a slight pout. “Are you upset that I was first? That I was the one she squirmed beneath, crying out in pleasure?"  He hissed back, his tone one of mocking. “She tasted...ever...so sweet."  Trelmar licked his finger to make his point directly in Alador’s face. Trelmar’s friends all laughed nervously, but their eyes were moving between the two.

Alador punched him. He reared back with everything he had and punched him as hard as he could. Trelmar landed back against the bar and slid down it. Trelmar’s four friends tried to jump in to contain Alador as adults in the room also rose to intervene. Trelmar rolled up holding his bleeding nose. Despite the shouts of the adults for them to stop, none of the middlins seemed to have any intentions of listening. Seeing that his friends had Alador held between them, Trelmar moved forward and punched Alador in the gut. Alador doubled up as much as the containing hands would allow. Rage filled his Alador’s eyes as he growled with a feral ferocity. He launched himself at Trelmar breaking free of the hands that contained him.

Adults tried to get their hands on the two fighting men, and Trelmar’s friends were shouting encouragements to the middlin and getting in the way of the adults trying to contain the situation. Alador had Trelmar with his back against the bar as the two took wild swings at one another. Trelmar was faring the worst and was clearly the one attempting to defend himself. Trelmar in an attempt to break free from the bar, launched himself at Alador, and they both landed on a table that broke beneath the force of their fall and combined weight. People were shouting at them both to stop.

Both men came up now in the center of the room. There was an audible gasp by those about as Trelmar pulled a knife from his belt and lunged at Alador. It was the gasp that warned him, but even so, Alador barely jumped back in time. The knife sliced through his shirt and left a razor of red across his midsection. Panic now filled the room for this had gone from a brawl to a life or death situation. Some adults started clearing the alehouse, and Trelmar’s friends were pushed out the door. Alador was unarmed and clearly at a disadvantage. It was now his turn to back pedal. Trelmar was slicing wildly, and Alador had been forced to keep retreating. The adults were no longer trying to grab a hold of either of the men. Although, the shouts for them to stop had not diminished.

As much as he had wanted to kill Trelmar, he had intended to do it with his bare hands and so had not brought in a weapon. Trelmar lunged again, his eyes filled with hate. Alador twisted to the side, barely getting his arm from harm’s way. As Trelmar passed him, Alador caught the hand and with one hand on the arm shoved down, and the hand that caught the Trelmar’s hand around the knife pushed up hard and fast, the snap of the wrist audible. Trelmar cried out in agony. Alador twisted and jerked Trelmar to him and over his leg. Both men tumbled to the ground the knife caught between them. The blade sank deep into Trelmar’s stomach as they hit the ground, still half held in Trelmar’s hand. Alador twisted it, the wrist grinding in the process. Trelmar’s look of disbelief as he looked down at the knife protruding from his stomach was met with a growl of satisfaction by Alador. Their eyes met as Alador hissed. “Who is laughing now?”

Alador felt a hand grab his shoulder, and he was swung around. Before he could defend himself or even speak, he saw a large blur. Dorien, intent on stopping further harm, laid his own brother out cold. The big blacksmith landed a solid punch to the side of Alador’s head. The last thing he remembered as he hit the floor was his brother’s large boot landing in the middle of his chest. His breath left him as the room spun into darkness.