AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He attacked me once before.”
“To save you from yourself.”
Oh.
The Black Dog’s jaws fell wider into a canine laugh. He took one more step forward and I moaned, deep in my throat, lunch acrid in my stomach. He cocked his head, touched his muzzle to my temple in a soft warm whuffing. I patted his head, feeling awkward. He licked my wrist, rubbing his head against my hand. Back to friendly Lab mode. Then he vaulted over my head and trotted into the deepening forest.
We watched him go in silence.
“Who is he?’
Larch glanced at me sideways. “Guardian. Passer of boundaries. Gatekeeper, guide and reaper.”
“Reaper?” I strangled on the word. “I’m not dead.”Am I?
“There are many ways and worlds to cross.”
“Why is he protecting me?”
Larch grinned at me, unexpected and somewhat eerie on his stolid blue face. “I suspect that’s a question more than one person would like the answer to. Shall we return to camp, my lady sorceress?”
I nodded, blowing my breath out in one long exhale.
Riding back down the hill, navy-dark Larch following as my horse picked her way along the shadowed descent, I fingered the tender bump under my hair, where one man had struck me. They’d crept up from behind to attack. Drag me off or murder me—it mattered little which. And the Dog had likely saved my life. Again. Though the first occasion seemed considerably muddier.
“Who were those men on the hill?” I asked Larch.
“Barbarians,” he confirmed.
“Sent to kill me?”
“Or capture. We were careless.”
Okay then.
We caught up with the long train of men marching back to some camp along the river. They strung along the road, looking fierce and exhausted. A mutter ran through them as we came alongside, passing rapidly, my horse’s fresh canter far exceeding their battle-weary tread. Some looked askance, others openly stared.
I wanted to say hello, ask questions. This was clearly not the time. So I just rode alongside, soaking up the comfort of being near my own kind.
A chant sprang up from a few throats, guttural rhythm to their heavy steps. Others joined in, the song spreading up and down the column, seeping like water through the tired faces. The words made no sense—instead I received a barrage of ideas, flashes of battle scenes, the dragons, the monsters, the fireworks from below, the blinding flies. Me, a small figure in black high up on the hill, midnight hair flying.
I tried to close off the input and concentrated on the sound instead.
Ahm prohd…Tbhee…Mehrkan
Ahtleest…Ahnoh…Ahmfree
It was the soundtrack.
They couldn’t have understood the meaning behind the words, but they’d heard the awful loop enough times that the sounds had sunk in. They went on, male voices rising and falling in the cadence of the nonsense words. If only I had thought ahead, I could have given them something better. “Scotland the Brave,” with bold hearts and nodding plumes.
By the time we reached camp, full night had descended and the tents were brilliantly lit with the disco patterns of the glowing pillows. Larch’s contingent of non-page workers and Dragonfly’s idle maids had clearly been busy. Not a corner of the camp wasn’t glowing. Already music was playing, different tunes from various tent groupings, reminding me of the fraternity stereo wars in college, with each house blasting a different song from speakers propped in the windows.
“Lady Sorceress!” A brown page I didn’t recognize bowed in front of me.
“Yes?”
“Brilliantly fought battle, Lady Sorceress.”
