Swords of the Six (30 page)

She laughed and something inside his heart loosened as if ensnared by an invisible rope. It felt good. He laughed with her at his own clumsy start to their conversation. "There is a trail in the forest here, to the north, and a field beyond," she said, starting to walk. "Have you eaten, Ilfedo?"

Eat? What did hunger matter? "Maybe later."

As they walked through the woods, Ilfedo took Dantress's hand. Using his free arm, he held aside branches in her path.

What remained of that day, passed in what felt like a moment. They explored the wildlife-rich territory, startling birds and deer as they wandered. On a few occasions Dantress held out her hands toward the treetops. Songbirds of wide variety flocked to her, landing on her arms and shoulders.

Ilfedo tried to gain the creatures' trust, but he succeeded in befriending just one blue jay and a chickadee. All the other birds scattered at his approach.

As he watched Dantress move about and observed her interaction with the birds, he could not take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful, not only in body. There was a peace about her face, a confidence in her walk. Dignified yet humble, she had stolen his heart before the day waxed old.

When evening came they were loath to part. He looked down at her. Bits of dirt speckled the hem of her purple skirt and strands of her hair hung out of order. "Do you have family hereabouts?" he asked.

"Yes, I live with my sisters but I'm afraid they are rather reclusive."

He squeezed her hand. "What about your father and your mother?"

"The old man"—she gazed into the forest—"the prophet . . . he looks out for us. If it is approval you seek, then don't worry. You have his."

He guided her back toward the place he'd found her. "Then, will you meet me at the waterfall tomorrow?"

She nodded. A smile lit her countenance and her dark eyes glanced up at him before looking at the ground before her.

Not only did she keep her word, returning to him the next day. Dantress came to the pool by the waterfall the next day and the next as well. In this manner a week sped by.

They learned about each other. She asked him of his family, how he'd been raised. He told her of his parents and the struggles he'd gone through to move on after their deaths.

"What about you?" he asked when he'd finished.

She hesitated a moment, her brow knit in concentration. Some kind of struggle waged within. "My family," she began slowly, "is bound by secrets that keep me from telling you everything. Nothing bad," she added, grabbing his arm and looking into his eyes for reassurance. "Far from it, in fact. My father is a great . . . one . . . who raised me with more love than I could have hoped for."

* * *

Then, choosing her words with care, she told him that she'd come from a distant land over which her father ruled. The details of the palace and of her father she carefully avoided. She chose to tell him mostly of Helen, Gwen and—of course—she told him at length of Elsie, who treated her as if she'd been her own daughter.

They sat on a moss-covered log, his arm around her. "My father trained my sisters and me to fight with these." She drew out Xavion's sword and fingered its leather-wrapped handle. She then told him that she'd traveled to a distant land and fought a small war to rescue a fallen hero.

"We failed. Instead of accepting pardon from my father, the traitor took my sword." She swallowed. A tear formed in her eye. "He killed himself with it because he had killed someone he'd loved. It didn't make sense. He should have accepted Father's forgiveness . . . in fact it didn't make sense that he ever fell at all.

"Father would have taken him back. He's just that way.

"There must have been a reason that the man did what he did, but . . . it eludes me."

Ilfedo drew her into his arms, ran his fingers through her hair as she sobbed. "It sounds to me," he said, "as though the man became depressed. Whatever happened to him must have been awful. But you can't look back and wonder what you could have done to save him. That only leads to more heartache because you can't change what has already happened.

"Trust me, I know. After that bear killed my parents, I would sit up late into the night imagining different scenarios, trying to determine whether or not I could have saved their lives, if I had done something differently.

"We returned home, to my father's lands. As the traitor had requested, I gave his son to my father. And, not long after that, Father brought me and my sisters here to live in the forest.

"It has been a wonderful change; the birds, the trees and everything else. It's peaceful here. And then you came along." She smiled and wiped away her tears with her sleeve.

They sat there a long time. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and they watched the sky turn orange as evening approached.

Ilfedo let the silence remain for as long as it took to gain his courage to say what had been on his heart ever since their first week together.

"Do you—" He cleared his throat. It felt as if a stone had fallen in and wouldn't come out. "I mean to say . . . Dantress, I think . . . I mean . . . I
have
fallen in love with you. Please, will you marry me?"

Her eyes looked back into his, and she nodded slowly, smiling all the while. "That's not exactly how I pictured you asking me . . . but it'll do! Though, I must ask for my father's approval."

Without hesitation he agreed. Her hand trailed along his fingers as she rose to go. "I will meet you by the waterfall."

"Shouldn't I come along and speak with him, too?"

"No, Father would not want that. Very few people ever see him, and he prefers it that way." She took a few steps away, leaned on a tree and looked back at him. "I love you, too!" She flitted quick as a deer into the forest and was gone.

Chapter 5: Beneath the Stars

Dawn broke over the Western Wood. Yimshi's first rays made the early morning mist glow where it nestled between the tree trunks. Dantress hiked through the forest, following a narrow trail until a wall of hanging foliage cut it off. She hesitated and took a deep breath before parting the vines. Stepping past them, she saw the trail was again visible as it cut through the grass to the cave entrance.

The cave appeared lifeless and black as pitch.

"Caritha, Rose'el, Laura, Levena . . .? Is anyone in there?" She could not hear her sisters moving about, and not a single flicker of firelight illuminated her way. She took a couple steps forward. A stone slipped under her foot, and she almost tripped. "My sisters, answer me."

Somewhere in the darkness metal rang and a spark flashed. Had someone drawn a sword? The spark caught, illuminating a small pile of dry wood. The spark grew into a flame that spread amidst the wood until it crackled pleasantly. One of the youngest sisters must be in there. If it were Caritha, Rose'el, or Laura they would have said something by now. "Levena, is that you?"

Someone sighed quietly. "No, it's only me." Evela stared into the fire.

Dantress sat beside her on the moss covered log. The sisters had added layers of natural green cushion to the makeshift seat in order to provide a little comfort. The cave wasn't nearly as accommodating as Shizar Palace. Nothing fancy—just a floor of dirt and stone and beds of straw that Albino had provided when he'd left them here.

"Sorry, Evela." Dantress smiled apologetically. "I couldn't see your face at first." Gazing into the shadows, she searched for her other sisters.

"No one else is here." Evela picked up a twig, tossed it into the fire. "I think they went looking for you."

"I told Caritha not to expect me back before morning." She shook her head. "What's the matter with her lately anyways? It is my choice to associate with whomever I wish."

"But he is a
man
. Even I can see that. And he is a very
good looking
man. We are not blind to your desires." Evela looked at her, not quite smiling, not quite frowning.

Dantress pulled her hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it. Never had she felt as happy as she felt at this moment.

Evela touched her arm. "What's happened to you, Dantress? It's been two weeks. We hardly see you anymore. You hardly say a word to any of us, and when you do, all we hear is Ilfedo, Ilfedo, Ilfedo and more Ilfedo."

Dantress squeezed her sister's arm, then stood, her back turned to the flames. "I'm in love with him, Evela. Things are bound to change when that happens."

For a long time her sister was silent. Then, when she spoke, it was with hesitation. "Caritha feared you would say something like that. She says this needs to stop before you go too far and we lose you—"

"It is already too late." Dantress smoothed the front of her dress. Turning, she faced her youngest sister and got down on her knees, grasping Evela's hands. "He asked me to marry him!"

From the mouth of the cave, Caritha's voice finished the line with great authority. "And if you bear him a child then you will die." She emerged into the firelight. Behind her, Rose'el, Laura and Levena followed.

"If that is what must be, then so be it." Dantress held out her hand, directing her words at the eldest sister. "Surely you don't expect me to live out the remainder of my years trapped here in this cave? I do not believe that is what Father would have wanted for me . . . nor for any of you."

"Have a care what you say, Dantress." Caritha's eyes looked cold. "The great white dragon placed us here, and
here
we will stay. It is not our place to question his decision, only to abide by his word.
Marriage
does not have a place in our lives and, though I doubt not that you have fallen in love, I believe that time away from the man will make you realize your mistake.

"You say that you are willing to accept death. But are you truly? I doubt it, my sister. I think your vision is clouded by pleasure. That man"—she stabbed the air with her finger, pointing out the cave entrance—"has
corrupted
you!

"And for that"—she reached into the fold of her skirt and drew her sword—"he must die.

"Are you with me, my sisters?" She looked around into the others' stolid faces. "We must save Dantress from herself."

"You would mix the dragon's blood with humanity, and that we cannot allow." Caritha stabbed her sword into the air above Dantress's head. The others followed her example, their blades ringing against hers. "I am sorry, my sister, but the man is responsible for your downfall. Thus, he must die."

Horror filled Dantress. She looked at her sisters as if seeing them for the first time. Rage cried out within her soul, to think that they would even think of such a thing. Whipping Xavion's superior blade from its sheath, she struck the swords above her head with brute force. The captain's blade glowed with holy wrath, and the blood of the innocent fell from its rusted metal.

Such was the might of her attack that all five of her sisters jerked back their hands as if stung, and all five swords clattered to the stone floor.

"For shame!" she spat at them. "For
shame
! You accuse
me
of corruption when your own hearts are filled with selfish malice toward a man you do not even know.

"Look at yourselves! Look at us!
We
are agents of justice, the pride of our father. Yet while you spout piety with your mouths you desecrate his most noble name by your actions."

Twisting to face Caritha, she held Xavion's blade to her sister's left breast. "Ilfedo is a good man, kind and gentle. I want him . . . and he will be mine! A child will be mine, too, if the Creator wills it.

"Are you so blinded by your desire to keep me safe that you do not see that this is the path I must take? Even the shepherd has blessed this union. Surely you are not so blind as to deny
his
wisdom?"

She felt hot tears sting her eyes as she looked about. Their faces did not yield compassion. She could plead with them for eternity and not breach the barriers they'd erected to keep their ears from listening.

"It would have been better," she said, lowering her blade, "if I had left with your blessings as well. But since you will not hear me I must go. There is One whose blessing I must seek before I take the final step. If his blessing is given, then I will be departing from this land."

Forcing her sword back into its sheath, Dantress walked to the cave's exit. With one final look back, she spoke in an even tone. "Be forewarned, my sisters. My heart will belong to my husband . . .. Any of you who takes aggressive action toward him will pay, I swear it, by my own hand.

"I have weighed the consequences of my decision. I would rather have you rejoice with me . . . but if you will not, then maintain a safe distance. If you harm my man, then
I
will harm you."