Breathe (The Destiny Series: Book 1) (29 page)

Hugh nodded. A week and they would be able to begin.

“Is something wrong, my friend?” Captain Koukai asked, worry stamped on his normally jovial features.

Hugh let the lines ease from his forehead. “Yes and no. Come, let me feed you and tell you about it over some good wine.”

Never one to turn down a free meal, Koukai followed Hugh back to the keep, while the traders started to bring ashore mountains of silk, lace, weapons, and a variety of trinkets, all designed to tempt the people of Maj.

Everyone was anxious to get a first look at what would be offered this year, the women of Maj going over in their minds what could be traded to buy that special piece of cloth each of them had their eye on. Carvings, paintings, wool, wheat…anything and everything could be used to barter. Things that seemed ordinary, even boring to the Maj, were seen as exotic by others along the trading route.

Dearra took the opportunity to seek Darius out to spend some time with him, seeing as how her father was suitably distracted, and surrounded as they were, there was no one to accuse them of behaving inappropriately.

Once together, Dearra and Darius walked idly along, taking in the sights and sounds around them. Dearra was surprised, but also somewhat relieved to see Jacob talking to a trader from one of the smaller ships who had anchored off shore. He had been almost conspicuously absent for some time now, and it made Dearra nervous. Maybe, now that he was out with everyone else, he would get past his delusions and move on.

Not a chance, Fuzzy. His thoughts are just as black as ever. Remember to keep me close.

“Listen to him, Dearra,” Darius said quietly as they walked. “Brin knows what he’s talking about. Jacob won’t easily relinquish a prize he has invested so much energy to attain.”

Dearra frowned, and kept walking. “Must you both gang up on me all of the time? It’s annoying. Besides, haven’t I kept my word? Brin is always with me…unless, that is, he decides to burn me, but that’s hardly my fault.”

Now, see here, you ungrateful, sassy, little—

“Brin! She’s agreed. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Humph!

“Humph!” Dearra said aloud at exactly the same moment.

Darius rolled his eyes. It was a little like breaking up two squabbling children, but the one he loved, and the other protected her, so he carried on the best he could.

Darius looked around, trying to find something that would make a suitable eighteenth birthday gift for Dearra. He struggled even harder wondering how he might pay for it.

Dearra, too, searched for something special for Darius, and she tried to think of how she could escape his notice long enough to keep it a surprise.

Every person on Maj was filled with hope and happiness. The traders were here, which meant the ice would soon be open. All of them felt the joy and the possibility of hope, all except one. Jacob’s eyes followed Dearra as she walked, and his twisted mind saw the path he needed to take.

Where do you think you’re going, Dearra? It’s very late. I hope you aren’t planning on traipsing off to his room again. Your father has his limits, you know.

“I wish! I never get a moment alone with him anymore.”

Whose fault is that?

“I know, I know, but still, you would think we were criminals or something, the way Father acts. He’s being unreasonable.”

You are right. Who does he think he is preventing his child from having secret meetings alone in her room with a man? He’s obviously totally unreasonable.

Now, where are you going?

“I saw the perfect thing for Darius today, a beautiful pin for his cloak. It’s the most magnificent thing, all worked in silver, with a stone in the center that the man called eye of tiger. It was remarkable, Brin.”

That’s nice, Dearra. I’m sure he’ll love it. But why now?

“Because my father has him locked away now. If I were to go during the day, Darius watches every move I make.”

I suppose that makes sense.

“Thanks, Brin. I knew you would understand. I’ll be back soon!”

Wait! You come right back here and get me! We had a deal!

“Oh, Brin, please. If I take you, everyone will know I am going out. I’ll only be gone for a moment. I know just what I want and Oki said he would wait for me.”

No! It’s a bad idea, and I won’t have it.

“But, Brin…” Dearra let her lower lip quiver ever so slightly. “I so want to surprise Darius.”

No, no, no. Either take me along or stay right where you are.

“Well, I can’t take you along, so I guess I will just have to stay here.” Dearra sighed and lay down on her bed, her face a mask of disappointment and sadness.

You’ll be right back? No side trips or delays?

“Oh, yes! I promise. Straight there, and straight back again!”

Well—

“Thank you, Brin! You don’t know what this means to me! He will be so surprised!” Dearra was out the door before Brin could say another word.

He watched her every step through her eyes as she silently made her way through the halls of the keep and out the front door. He followed her as she skipped happily towards the docks and the tents where the vendors were displaying their wares. He continued to observe as she handed over an expensive silver hairbrush she loved and took the ornate pin from the merchant. She turned, smiling, her prize clutched tightly in her hand, and then…

Brin caught a glimpse of Jacob’s malicious glare. A moment later, a sharp pain shot through Dearra’s head and then pierced his own mind as well. After that, there was only darkness.

There was nothing he could do. Everyone who would recognize him as more than a dream was still awake. The only person besides Dearra who could hear him in the waking world was Darius, and he was too far away for his skill to be useful. Brin roared out of frustration, rage, and pain, but there was no one to hear.

***

Darius sat, staring into the fire, letting his mind wander. He had found just the thing for Dearra’s birthday. The only thing that remained was how to pay for it. He decided it couldn’t hurt to slip down and take another look at the item. It was late, after all, and chances are no one would notice his absence.

His mind wandered. How his life had changed, he mused as he slipped silently from the keep. His existence in Parsaia had been no more than that: existence. Each day was a struggle for survival, it was for all of them, but in his Breken life, each day was a struggle for his soul as well. The life he wished to live was so foreign to everyone he knew back home, he had, at times, believed himself mad. There was nothing to compare it to in the world he had come from, just the deeply held belief that there was more to life than power, station, and kill or be killed. There had to be.

When he felt he could fight against his nature and his upbringing no more, he had been sent on the raid to Maj. He had little enthusiasm for the trip, but his father had insisted, and he figured, Maj or Parsaia—what did it matter? He was alone no matter where he was. The discovery of others who valued honor and loyalty was a startling revelation, and to be truthful, had probably saved his life. His spirit had been so thoroughly crushed through the years, he no longer saw the point of fighting anymore.

When, at last, he reached the docks, he saw a group of traders enjoying the warmth of a fire as they laughed and passed around what Darius was sure was some sort of fermented beverage. They reacted to the Breken warrior as they had for the last several days. They stood quickly out of respect, and waited for him to speak. Hugh had explained to Koukai about the strange circumstances of Darius’s presence among them. It had all been presented quite reasonably, but still, most of the traders were ill at ease around the dangerous warrior. They had traded often with the Breken, and they had developed a healthy respect for the volatile race.

“Can we help you, most honorable Breken?” The trader’s tone was polite, but wary.

“Yes, I was hoping to have another look at the statue I saw at the tent earlier today.” Darius pointed to a small tent erected at the edge of the beach where sand turned to grass.

“That is my tent, sir. I will help you.”

The other men around the fire relaxed and went back to their drinking, glad it had not been their services the Breken had requested, while the owner of the tent brought Darius to peruse his wares.

“No, not that one,” Darius said. “Over there…yes, that’s it.” Darius turned the finely crafted figurine in his hands, and he knew that he had to have it. “I want this, but I have nothing to trade,” Darius said.

The trader stiffened a bit. He had been through this before. The Breken could bring huge profits, but they could just as easily decide to take rather than pay. It was a fine line. If they took too often, it would no longer be profitable for the merchants to go to Parsaia at all, but if they took only a little, then they could be sure to get away with it. The merchants would be willing to put up with a bit of thievery, if it all balanced out in the end. “A gift then, honorable Breken. From me to you.”

The words were genuine, but Darius could tell the man was displeased. Realizing what the merchant thought, Darius set the tiny figurine down and held his hands out. “I could never take so valuable a gift. I only wondered if there was something you could think of that might be worth the trade.”

A smile lit the man’s face. This was something new, and his relief was profound. The item was indeed valuable, and he hated to lose it. “I can think of nothing, unless—” The trader’s look grew shrewd as he eyed Darius. “No, it is too presumptuous. I cannot ask.”

Darius had dealt with traders before, and he recognized the ploy for what it was, setting the trap, baiting him until he was willing to agree to almost anything. “Speak!” Darius used his coldest voice, letting the man know that while he was no thief, he was still a Breken warrior and not to be trifled with.

The man swallowed the fear that surged through him and spoke quickly. “Your hair! Let me cut the Breken braid you wear. I can surely sell it for a small fortune to one of your many enemies. Give it to me and the figurine is yours!”

Darius reached up to the thin braid he wore. The rest of his hair hung loose most of the time, but the braid was a Breken tradition. He could just as easily braid another section of hair to replace the one he cut off, leaving it unshorn until it reached an appropriate length, but the symbolism did not escape him. He would truly be cutting ties to his family and his people. He would be giving up his homeland and adopting Dearra and her people as his own.

“Give me the knife,” he said at last.

The trader’s eyes gleamed as he accepted the braid, and without a second thought, he handed over payment to Darius. Too busy caressing his newfound treasure, the trader never heard the farewell Darius tossed his way as he left.

Darius made his way back up the slope toward the keep. He was pleased with his purchase, his mind resting easier, now that he had Dearra’s gift. He looked around, expecting to enjoy the night as he had been unable to do on his way to the docks, when a small glint of silver against the darkness of the night caught his attention, and he veered off the path to investigate.

He reached down and lifted the fine, cloak pin he had admired only yesterday. What was it doing here? It didn’t seem likely someone would buy the fine piece of jewelry only to lose it so quickly. Who could have bought the item? He hadn’t noticed anyone but himself showing interest in the heavy piece.

He knelt again and searched the blackness for other clues. His hand made contact with something sticky and wet, and he held his fingers up in the moonlight to get a better look.

Blood stained his hand. Between two fingers and half coated in blood, was a long strand of hair, as pale as the moonlight that shone down on it. His heart contracted and froze in his chest as he recognized the strand of hair as belonging to Dearra.

Darius sprinted back towards Maj Keep. Once there, he flew through the keep towards Dearra’s room.

Hugh had come out in search of the wayward Breken, and was at a loss when he saw him sprinting towards Dearra’s room.

Darius!

Darius heard the sword’s voice, filled with pain and rage, with his first stair toward her room, his agonized scream growing louder as he ascended. He swung the door open with a slam, already knowing she wasn’t there.

Jacob has her! Get Hugh! Get Daniel! Get everyone!

Darius grabbed the sword and just as quickly dropped it, a small wisp of smoke trailing from his palm.

Sorry, sorry! I’m in control now, let’s go!

Darius took hold again, and this time the blade was merely warm.

“What are you doing here?” Hugh’s voice bellowed as he tore into the room.

Struggling to catch his breath and fighting back panic, Darius said in a rush, “She’s been taken. Brin, was screaming for help, but no one could hear him. We have to find her…Now!”

Both men turned and hastily made their way for Daniel’s room, Hugh calling out, “Maj! Maj!” as he went.

People came from every corner of the keep. Some went to spread the call throughout the bailey. They came dressed in work clothes, battle gear, and not a few, in not much more than night shirts…but they came.

After rousing Daniel, everyone returned to the Great Hall where there would be enough room for such a large group to gather.

Reo paced in nervous agitation, sensing his master’s anxiety. Darius was silent, listening to the information Brin shared with him.

Finally, Darius lifted a hand to still the people. “Dearra has been taken…by Jacob.”

Waves of shock and anger rippled around the room. William stood beside Darius and put a hand to his shoulder in support. Hugh urged him to continue, holding on to his own control by a fragile thread.

“Brin says he saw the face of Jacob and then—” Darius struggled to continue. “He felt her pain, followed by only blackness.”

“It could be a mistake!” Daniel said. “Dearra has been known to bend the rules from time to time; perhaps there is only a misunderstanding, and she is merely seeking some time to herself.” Daniel’s words lacked conviction, but he nevertheless looked to Darius with a small glint of hope.

Darius shook his head. “I found the place where she was taken. There was blood and a strand of Dearra’s hair. Also, she would not be able to shut Brin from her mind unless she were unconscious or…” Darius couldn’t continue.

Hugh stepped forward to take control. Though his voice shook with emotion, he issued the commands: “Gather as many as can be found at this hour. Do not wake any from the farms. We may have better luck if Jacob is not yet aware that we have noticed Dearra’s absence.

“Get the dogs. They may be of little help with Dearra’s scent thick in the area, but perhaps if we start them where she was taken, they will be able to follow the freshest trail.

“Get two groups together to search Sunrise and Sunset caves; he’s got to be hiding her somewhere. If you see anything, return to Daniel or myself with the information.”

Hugh was about to dismiss the people to their appointed tasks, but paused to amend his last edict, trying to make it sound like a reaffirmation rather than the correction it was. “Remember, do not act on your own, but return to myself, Daniel, or Darius as soon as possible. We don’t want to send Jacob into a panic and act against Dearra.”

He looked to Darius and saw the grateful look he gave him. Breken or no, Hugh had to give the boy this much—he truly adored Dearra. That much they had in common. Perhaps it was enough to build on.

People spread out quickly, forming search parties. Darius held Reo’s head between his hands, staring into the wolf’s intelligent eyes. No words passed his lips, but Reo yipped and dashed out of the room, followed closely by Darius.

Hugh was getting ready to follow when Daniel stopped him. “You have to stay here.”

“The hell I will! That’s my daughter out there! Again!”

“Someone has to stay here in case anyone finds her. The people will naturally return here with information, and they will be more at ease knowing you are here to guide us.”

“I can’t, Daniel. This is too much. I can’t do it.” His words seemed hollow and dead, as if all of the fire had drained from the proud warrior. He could face down an army and never flinch, but first Pip’s abduction, and now with the threat to his daughter? Once again, he had been pushed to his breaking point.