FOREVER KNIGHTS: #13 Salvaging Souls

Wanted Man Tavern, Lighthouse Village, Isle of Wight

Caped figures continued attempts to interrupt Mera’s mad dash through the woods.

But they’re too slow for her. Lucien recognized proudly.

She rode the remainder of the night. The great mount she’d stolen was accustomed to labor and didn’t disappoint.

He’s used to carrying Mardichi. Running with her is likely a reprieve!

She spurred on until reaching a gloomy wooden building. A large sign depicting a man with ‘Wanted’ painted in large letters over it, slapped in the wind.

The Wanted Man’s Tavern.

Lucien tapped into her thoughts and was dismayed at what he found there. It’s going to be a long night.

Unconventional Meralee Elaine Carter was nothing if not grateful to see a tavern…After last night, no glass of wine would do. Leaping off the mount she fisted muddied skirts, heedless of the ominous nature of the structure even grasped by an angry mist as it was. Hitching him to the post out-front she made her way to the back of the building.

Lucien followed soundlessly. What’s she up to now? Something thick was bunched in her arms. One of the other dresses?

Her next actions proved him correct.

Glancing around she didn’t see anyone, so she pulled the drab gray dress over her head. Working the other, of finer fabric, loose from beneath she stepped out of it. Careful to lift it high enough to keep from dangling in the dirt.

Does she not see it’s already coated in filth? Before he could think anything else, she returned to the horse to tuck the dirty garment back in the leather bag she had hanging from the horse. She spun around and resolutely headed for the wooden door.

Mera stepped within the damp rankness of the leaking walls with a half-smile turning her lips. Hair wickedly damp from the mist-coated forest, she entered the dwelling. Harrumphing at the sight of the crew within.

A ragtag lot. The worst of the worst on the Isle of Wight.

Meralee was oblivious to any danger as she stalked to the center bar. Slapping the counter made the bartender step to meet her.

Bold wench. Lucien was horrified at her comfort in the Wanted Man’s Tavern. A notorious hideout for villains.

She seemed unaware of the lascivious gazes drawing her from head to toe. Watching her body. Molded by her wet garments. Apparently, the mist had seeped into the bag and dampened even the clothes she hadn’t been wearing.

“Somethin’ fer a lady?” The barkeep queried.

“Ale.” She demanded.

The bartender caught up a thick mug and rag. Sending a purposeful look beyond Meralee’s shoulder.

Mera scowled at him. Unused to being ignored when she barked. She followed his look to the back of the gawking men.

Her gaze landed on Lucien in the darkest corner. Catching his animalistic amber gaze from where he was casually leaned back in a chair. Ankles crossed before him and hood drawn up. A flint loosely gripped in one hand, still seeping smoke from lighting the candle on the wooden table he sat at.

She recognized the cut of his chin and lower jaw, she snarled. Angrily slapping the counter again. Startling the man tending the bar into dropping the mug.

Lucien’s brow furrowed. Head lifting.

“Aye, mum?” The bartender shifted nervously.

Mera met Lucien’s gaze pointedly while addressing the man behind the counter. “Ale!”

Even through the dusky pipe smoke, she saw Lucien’s slow head shake in response to the tender’s questioning glance. No.

Hands quaking, the tender resolutely collected shards of glass and gave Mera his back. Already ducking his head for fear of the coming onslaught.

She clenched her fists. Growling as she slid off the barstool to catch the arm of a passing barmaid.

She won’t help you. Lucien knew.

The older woman gave Mera a scathing look. “What do ye want, girl?”

Meralee shoved a coin onto the barmaid’s tray. “A room if you please.”

The woman shifted the tray laden with drinks to the other hand and twisted to eye Lucien in his dark corner.

Standing he moved something with the toe of his boot, before leisurely stepping to the other chair, making him more visible in the candlelight. Sitting on the edge of the seat he leaned forward to prop his elbows on his knees and knocked his hood back. Slowly shaking his head again. Face impassive. No. Don’t help her. Was his answer.

The barmaid collected the coin. Returning it to Mera, by dropping it down the bustline of Mera’s dress. Giving Mera’s cheek a quick pat and a dismissive smile.

Mera’s horrified expression was priceless. She straightened. Face flushing in fury. She tossed tendrils of damp hair over her shoulder. The wild waves poured down her back. She seethed. Jerking a full circle to assess the occupants of the Wanted Man.

Wondering if anyone will help her. They won’t. Lucien smiled slowly from the darkness. His eyes intent on her.

If she knew my thoughts, she’d be far more insulted then she was at the barmaid’s dismissal.

Determination glittered in her eyes. Her undisguised fury, making her whole-body spark with life, amused him. Her movements vicious, she cornered the tavern owner’s daughter. Bringing her closer to Lucien’s corner as she pursued the younger girl.

Jeresine. Lucien watched attentively as Meralee furiously dug the coin from her bosom and pushed it into the younger woman’s hand. “A horse. Mine has grown much tired.”

Yours is stolen. From a barbarian who will soon be arriving to collect it.

Jeresine gave the angry brunette a demure look then leaned to peer around Mera to eye Lucien from beneath lowered lashes. “My Lord?”

Mera gasped and gave him a wide-eyed challenging look. Near to wailing on the owner’s daughter.

Lucien smirked as he loudly clicked his tongue and answered. “No.”