It's a Love Thing (48 page)

She peeked down again, saw
Vindar—Drake—lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by their family.
She missed them, all of them, but she knew they were going to be
okay. She was proud of the family they had raised. Even their
grandchildren were in his hospital room with their children. That’s
how deep their love for him went, that they wanted to be there for
his last moments.

“
Can I go now?” she asked
the angel standing guard.

The angel laid a loving hand on her
shoulder. “Yes, you can go now, Alashon.”

Alashon hurried down to Vindar. He
looked awful, she thought, and completely wonderful at the same
time.

“
Vindar,” she called. He
didn’t acknowledge her, and she realized he wouldn’t know that
name—not yet. “Drake.”

His eyes snapped to hers.
“Megan?”

“
Yes,” she said, smiling.
“I’ve come for you.”

“
You’ve come for me?” he
asked, happiness lighting his voice. She saw some of the others
glance at one another as he spoke. They couldn’t see her, or hear
her. She knew they thought he’d finally lost it.

As she moved closer to the bed, she
ran her fingers lightly over those around his bed. She couldn’t
feel them, nor they her, but she couldn’t bypass this last
opportunity to touch these people she loved so very much. They
weren’t ready to join her and Vindar yet. They still had much to
do.

She reached for Vindar’s hand, and he
gladly placed his own in hers. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said,
tears gathering in his eyes.

“
I know,” she said, “but we
can be together now. Forever.”

He sat up, and then stood, looking as
she remembered him on the day she first met him in his earthly
form. She knew she also appeared to him as she’d looked then. A
gasp sounded around them, as tears and crying filled the room at
their loss of Drake. Alashon glanced at them, wishing she could
tell them not to grieve, that this was a joyous
occasion.

“
Alashon,” Vindar said,
remembrance filling his eyes.

“
Yes,” she answered. “You
found me. You vowed, and you found me.”

“
I found you,” he said.
“But you, you saved me.”

He pulled her into his arms, and
Alashon’s soul filled with the light of love. They began their
ascent.

“
We saved each
other.”

The End

About the Author

Cindy C Bennett is the YA
author of
Geek Girl, Heart on a
Chain
, and
Immortal Mine
. She has also written
the short stories
Reluctance
and
Beautiful Beast
(Enchanted Fairytales Book 1)
. She loves
losing herself in her make-believe worlds where she likes to
pretend she has control, and that the control does not really
belong to her characters and those voices in her head. Watch for
her other upcoming
Enchanted
Fairytales
installments, and her
full-length take on Rapunzel due out in February 2013 from
Sweetwater Books, and well as the sequel to
Immortal Mine
, due out December
2012.

Find more about Cindy C Bennett
at:

www.cindycbennett.com

Return to Table of
Contents

I Was Here—Before You
Came

Legend has it—before Romanians there
were Dacians. And before them Agathyrsis, beautiful and luxurious
people who brought into Dacia the cults of Apollo, the god of
light, healing and poetry.

Dacians lived, worked and died for the
rich land between the Danube and the Carpathian Mountains. My
people stood tall in the way of Huns, Goths, and Vikings, all
barbarians in a hurry to kill, and steal our women, gold and
silver. No matter the army, in the end our fields soaked in blood,
the putrid corpses a stark reminder that Dacians had no fear, no
rival worthy to defeat them.

Until one day—Romans came.

Romans thrust through sword
everything in their way, killing helpless women and children,
enslaving men, poisoning our wells ... They destroyed the
Sarmizegetusa Fortress, and with that my
home
... They crushed and chased our
army off the cliff, and with that my
people
. They tortured my mother and
my sister, killing them one by one, and with that my
family
. . . They hunted
my father, the brave King Decebalus into the woods, his back
against the steep hill. Nowhere to go, no way to turn.

I watched my father die.

I saw him go down on one knee, on the
land he loved so much, his sword and shield at his side. The war
was over, but not his courage. Being a Roman’s prisoner was not an
option. With one last breath he called my name before reaching in
his sleeve for the dagger. As he drew the blade across his throat,
blood spewed forth like dragon’s tongues.

Legend has
it—
Marcus Ulpius Nerva Traianus
ordered
my father’s head and right
arm to be paraded in Rome for 123 long days whilst Romans
celebrated victory against my people. While they danced and sang, I
buried my mother and my sister.

Vengeance.

That's what I live for,
the
only
reason I
survived.

I will not rest. I will not
give up. For ten years I built an army,
my
army to take back my land, reclaim
my birthright to the Dacian Kingdom as the only survivor of King
Decebalus. I've learned, trained, fed my hate, waiting for the
right moment to strike.

The moment has come.

*****

The night descends—sinister outside
the fortress. I keep close to the rock wall until I reach the gate
to the hidden tunnel. Soon my usher shows up. I exchange gold coins
for a key he hands me before disappearing, leaving the path
open.

Galtys and Ursus guard the
entrance. Vipero, Bastisza and Zyraxes follow me into the
tunnel.
My
men. I
feel their thirst for blood. I trust them with my life. We carry
only daggers, our forefathers’ daggers. Today is the day to make
them proud.

The pungent smell is as thick as the
darkness. We walk deeper and deeper beneath the fortress. I've been
here before, during the construction, learning my way around,
counting my steps inside the maze of underground corridors. Ulpia
Traiana Sarmizegetusa is a solid castle the Romans built after
destroying the real Sarmizegetusa Fortress, my home. But not solid
enough to stand against the hate running through my veins, feeding
my very soul. I can't wait to see it burn.

The sound of water leaching on the
east wall beckons I need to turn right, into a narrower tunnel. I
walk hunched, as do my men. The air becomes impossible to breathe.
Almost there. One more turn into a shorter tunnel. Sweat trickles
down my forehead, into my beard. Rats scurry between our feet. We
reach the bottom of the stone steps taking us into the main
courtyard. I take two steps at a time, guided by the night's fresh
air wrapping around me like a blessed cloak.

After the darkness in the tunnel, the
stars offer more light than I want. We stay hooded behind the
pillars, moving fast under the arcades. Flowers decorate the
courtyard for the morrow’s celebration. Only there will be none.
Blood instead of wine. The smell of death instead of intoxicating
garlands. Wails instead of music.

We strike. Guards at Emperor Traianus’
chambers fall quietly, taken away by death's claws. I can hear
Traianus snore. All I have to do is open the door and slice his
throat. The thrill of killing my father's nemesis ripples across my
muscles, and it takes both Vipero and Bastisza pinning me against
the stonewall to stop me from doing just that. “We need him to
suffer,” Vipero wheezes in my ear. An old neck injury prevents him
from speaking otherwise. Zyraxes' back pushes against mine as he
protects our retreat.

What we came for is at the end of the
next corridor. Sentinels at each door don't know what hits them.
Eternal rest receives them one by one. The path is clear. We reach
the last chamber's doors. Oak, massive doors. Behind them the
night's trophy. Revenge is within reach. This time no one can stop
me.

I stand at the foot of her
bed, watching her slumber. Candlelight veils her with a silver
glow. Long, black hair spills around her face, a stark contrast to
the white pillows. Her curves reveal through the thin blue chemise
and for a moment I forget my plan, almost giving into the painful
need to make her mine. I’ve watched her grow since she was but a
foal, a fragile lotus lily amidst weeds. I watched her play while
Romans scourged my people to work harder, building their new
fortress with Dacian timber, Dacian stone, Dacian marble on Dacian
land.
My
land.

Nerva.

Traianus’ pride and heart I’m about to
destroy.

*****

I don’t know if the glow surrounding
us comes from the sunrise or from the fire we set, but I’m about to
find out atop the mountain with a glorious view. I force myself not
to look behind, wanting to put as much distance as possible between
our group and the blazing fortress. I'm not worried Romans are
after us. If they are smart the garrisons should ride in the exact
opposite direction.

My epistle must be in Traianus' hands
by now. I wish I could see his face, waking up to his family’s and
disciples’ screams, desperate to find out Nerva's gone.

There will be no betrothal.

If he wants her back, he must fight my
army. He must remember where my father died. I know that place like
the back of my hand. It’s the place he’ll reunite with Nerva. The
sorrow and pain he feels now will be nothing compared with what
he’ll feel then. I will make sure of that.

Until then I have to focus on the task
at hand, getting us safe. My men talk little. I hear the horses’
hard breathing going up the steep trail, but I know they can do it.
They are the best horses my father’s hidden treasures could buy.
Blanca, my mare, stumbles. She carries more weight with Nerva tied
across her back, but she regains her balance and moves
ahead.