FOREVER KNIGHTS: #4 Battling Black Roses

You were barely more than infants when we met. He laughingly shook his head.

“I was always busy.” He gestured in the direction of the tiny cavern where he stored the artifacts.

“It wasn’t that.” She said softly. “You were not for us.”

“I hope that is not why you stayed.” Horror crossed his face. Though this wasn’t the first time she’d brought up the subject, it was the first time the possibility had dawned on him.

“Of course not.” She laughed. “Our home is here. Our family…As we are. There’s nowhere we’d go.”

“I’d have helped you.” He said, staring into the amber liquid in his cup.

She reached a withered hand across the table to where he knelt. She lifted his chin. “We know that. We each knew we didn’t have to stay.”

He smiled tenderly at her.

“You’re far too big a man, to go soft on me now.” She teased. Face sobering. “You do know we won’t be able to keep the girl away forever.” Her hand returned to cradle her cup.

Chastain.

“You’re little redhead?”

“Our little redhead. You’ve watched over her as much as us.”

He gave her a questioning look.

She gave him a knowing look as she lifted her cup. “Mistake me not for a fool. I know your voice well. Even at night ’round the house.”

He winced. Not as quiet as I’d hoped.

“Be careful, Dear.” She said. “I don’t wish her to get hurt.”

I knew you wouldn’t.

“Nor do I.”

“I know that.” She patted his hand. “But where you are, Cimmerii hunt.”

You’re right.

“I know.”

“She’s too innocent…They’ll consume her.”

They won’t!

“I’d not allow that!” He bit out.

“I know.” She said softly. “But you can’t be around all the time, can you?”

***

As the morning sun crested, Margaret creaked the door open.

Leaping to her feet Chastain ducked into the kitchen before Margaret turned.

Margaret took the stairs on exhausted feet.

Chastain stepped from the kitchen to watch the woman’s weary trek up the stairs. Leaning heavily on the banister, Margaret didn’t look down.

“What’s going on?” Chastain demanded as the woman topped the stairs.

Margaret’s back stiffened. She turned enough to cast a tired glance down at Chastain. “Another time, Dear.” Proceeding to her own chamber to catch a couple hour’s rest, she rubbed her forehead.

Every day for a fortnight, Chastain crept downstairs to watch the women’s late-night behavior. Occasionally they’d blow the whistle then disappear with a bag. Often not returning until daylight. When they stumbled in haggardly.

“What are you two doing all night?” She called. But received no answer.

Acharius returned to the caves and lit the candle on the small stand next to his cot. Taking off his shift and boots. He opened a book and leaned back. Propping his feet up as he got comfortable against hard stone.

He sensed a presence more than heard it. Someone’s here.

He felt movement in his caves. “Whose there?” He planted his feet on the stone floor. Reaching near his boots for his bow.

“It’s only me.” Rhyers appeared with a grin. “Checking in on you, and our treasures.” He gestured around him.

Bell. He’s getting a bell. Acharius’ eyes narrowed on him.

You nearly got an arrow through your head. He slumped back on his bed.

“They all there?” Acharius challenged shrewdly. Already knowing the answer.

“Of course, they are. You’ve done well all these years. Made the Captain proud. We know what you’ve sacrificed.”

I doubt that.

“It’s an honor.” Acharius corrected. Turning the page in his book.

If only my mind didn’t grow so bored.

“Then why do you sound so weary?”

I’ve nothing to stimulate my mind. Day after day. Acharius shrugged as he eased back and put his feet up.

Except the colors…He admitted to himself.

Rhyers drug the wooden chair from the corner to sit next to the cot. Waiting.

“It’s hard to explain.” Acharius sighed, massaging the corner of a page in his book. “How’s Mardichi?” Acharius hadn’t heard from the giant in a long time.

Sulking in a tavern somewhere, no doubt, with a lovely wench on his lap. Acharius stamped down a pang of envy.

“He’s busy with that young woman he met.”

Ah, yes. I forgot.

“The little warrioress?”

Rhyers smiled and nodded.

“Is he still training her?” Acharius probed.

“He’s training her in something. Though I’m not certain it’s swordplay.”

Acharius eyed Rhyers. “I’d prefer not consider what Mardichi is doing with his sword.”

“Me either when you put it that way.” Rhyers shuddered.

“Anything new with Radix?” Acharius asked. Hoping for updates from the outside world.

Anything. Tell me anything.

Rhyers sobered instantly. “Chavias is still his warlord. Still hunting us.”

Except that. Bloody hell. That bit of information gave Acharius a lump of apprehension in his gut. Knowing he guarded something Radix would dearly love to get his hands on. And I’m the only one residing in the Dread Hideout.

“Still killing us, you mean?” Acharius’ typically level voice took on a bitter tinge.

Of course, he is.

“Yes.” Rhyers seemed to choke on the word.

“He’s dangerous.” Acharius sighed.