FOREVER KNIGHTS: #5 Subjugation of Beasts

Merwood, Dread Hideout

ACHARIUS

Obscured on a ridge in the Merwood, Acharius leaned against a tree. Able to see in Chastain’s chamber over the high fence, he watched her pace within Meredith House.

She interrupted the firelight when she crossed again. Stopping to shove open the shutters. She leaned out on the ledge to stare out. Firelight turned her hair burgundy and green eyes mesmerizing.

What’s plaguing you? Closing his eyes, he sighed. Immediately seeing the image haunting her. The terrifying creature that’d hunted her a few nights ago.

A Targue. Radix’s dog.

Dimly easing further from her thoughts, he realized she still watched from the window. Looking for something.

Her thoughts changed to an even more dangerous topic.

Me.

Dammit. He spat profanity and lurched from the tree. Stalking back to his cave. My closeness has put her in danger.

Acharius knew what’d happen now.

Chastain would have fitful dreams of orange-red eyes and hungry jaws. Panting breaths chasing her through the woods.

I’ve had them enough to know…

Cimmerii should’ve never come after her! Acharius considered revealing himself to Radix’s minions to distract Radix’s attention from Chastain. But I can’t. The artifacts…

It was nearly a sennight later, Acharius waited for the whistle that’d let him know it was safe to approach. Let the girl go to sleep already!

He searched telepathically to find Chastain’s mind. She stewed on the Targue she’d seen. Again.

Acharius’ head popped up gratefully when he heard the whistle. It’s nigh time for my weekly exchange. I’m low on food, drink and soap. He caught a whiff of himself and cringed. His boots rattled dirt and rocks down the trail.

Still feeling uneasy in the Merwood. Something isn’t right.

He’d been like this for hours. He’d checked the house several times. Catching the furtive movement of shutters.

She’s waiting for me. He was careful to stay from sight. Waiting for the fire in her chamber to die, and the room to darken. Only then did he creep into the garden, leather armor creaking as his huge frame moved. Bow in hand.

The firelight across the lawn revealed movement in the Main Room. Margaret emerged. Slowed by the weight of the bag.

“Good evening, Mags.” He reached to help her.

“Hello, Sweet Boy.” She let him take the bag. “Is that girl watching us again?” Putting her hands on her hips, she peered up at him with her back to the house. Face scrunched up as she awaited his answer.

He caught movement near Chastain’s shutters. Her head ducking from view. She’s still awake. He glanced her way. Despite that it should’ve been too dark for him to see Chastain, he stared knowingly.

When he looked away, he heard Chastain’s relieved breath. He ducked toward Mags to hide his smile. “Yes.”

“Of course, she is!” Margaret tossed her arms.

He chuckled briefly before sighing. Confiding. “I’d hoped after the Targue attack, she’d give it a rest.”

“There. There.” She stood on tiptoes to attempt to pat his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

He was vaguely amused by Margaret’s rotund frame standing high on her toes to only barely reach his bicep in her effort. She’s short.

But he sobered as he told her more. “She’s out here nearly every night, Mags. Wandering around in the dark.” He gestured around them. “You know how dangerous that is!”

“Well, she’s a girl fascinated by the dangerous.” She lifted her brows at him suggestively.

He lowered to be nose-to-nose with her. “Are you implying I’m dangerous?” He feigned shock. Blue eyes wide in mock appall.

“The most dangerous sort!” She laughingly swatted him. “Come. Let’s go visit.” She headed for the gate.

She’s always been the best of friends. His teeth glistened from under a dark hood. He held the gate against his back and waved for her to go first.

She exited, looking up at him, speaking animatedly. Gesturing excitedly as she talked.

He felt Chastain’s eyes on them. Let her wonder. I tire of hiding from her. The gate closed behind them.

Chastain slammed the shutter.

He glanced back. Hearing her heart racing on the other side of the wall.

Acharius glanced at the gray-haired woman walking the trail with him. She’s my accomplice. He laughed to himself. She knows as well as I what that girl is thinking.

Mischievous Margaret. And for a moment he envisioned the laughing brown haired, brown eyed girl that had often left frogs from the pond in his cave chamber. Or spread clay in the cave so his boots slipped.

Sending me tumbling on many an occasion. He could still hear her childish laughter.

It’s deeply saddening to think one day she and Agatha may not be here.