FOREVER KNIGHTS: #12 Primal Intent

Riaura gasped. “Don’t go!”

“He’s gone.” Alazar still stood between her knees. And as he looked around, he noticed that everyone else in the tavern had noticed the inappropriateness of the position.

I don’t’ give a damn. He realized. Catching her hips, he lifted her and she wrapped her legs about his waist.

“I’m going to throttle you!” He snarled as he tossed the barkeep some coin for a room and headed upstairs with her.

“The look on your face says otherwise.” She leaned up to whisper near his ear. One hand fisting in the hair at the back of his head.

He growled and tossed open the door. Kicking it closed behind him. Why do I always want her?

Even after she’s threatened to murder me in her castle courtyard. I still can’t resist her. I’m weak. And it made him angrier.

Riaura had summoned her most trusted advisor the following day. “Lockwood, I need you to follow that night.” She’d pointed out Alazareth in the courtyard. “Last night, I nitched his armor with green paint there along the shoulder.” She pointed out the mark. “So, you’ll know it is him. Tell me where he goes, who he meets with. Everything.”

Lockwood had followed him for days and saw nothing but hard training.

However, as the fifth day came and was once more retreating behind the horizon, that Alazareth was talking with a man. “What are you doing here?” There was strain in Alazareth’s voice.

The two were shrouded under the cover of falling darkness. Conversing in low tones near Nightway’s precarious back entrance. At one point the stranger gestured to an amulet hanging from Alazar’s neck.

Lockwood didn’t recognize the intruder. But tried hard to memorize his profile. He looked quickly towards the man he recognized as Alazareth and then back to the profile of the other man. However, that one had tilted his back toward Lockwood now.

Long golden hair was pulled back into a leather thong and he wore a frilled shirt. Clearly not looking like someone conspiring against Nightway in that clothing. Lockwood saw the stranger shift enough he could see both men’s profiles. He dispelled the idea he was witnessing Dreadcraft. It’d appeared for that moment that the two men were indeed two versions of the same man.

The longer haired one nodded decisively, dropping the pendant against his chest and the two men parted.

Lockwood followed the long-haired one further into the brush and into the rim of Warlock Grove. The man was moving at an almost inhuman pace despite his leisurely gait. His form blurred now and again as he moved faster than possible. As though he were part of Warlock Grove. Lockwood struggled to keep the stranger in sight. When finally, the trees broke into a small clearing he stopped at the treeline to find deeper cover. From where he hid, he saw the stranger meeting with a man, Lockwood recognized as one of the Rebel leaders.

“Hello, Garix.”

“Bast.” Garix lowered his head in deference.

Lockwood considered bolting out and taking them both as prisoners back to the Nightway Queen. Certain she’d be pleased with him. As he deliberated the idea, he hardly noticed his heart thudded wildly. Breathing labored with excitement.

The long-haired stranger seemed to have noticed. He spun on his heel and faced the treeline where Lockwood hid. Leaning forward and tilting his head up like a predator scenting prey. Head dropping forward and looking as though he could see into the shadows. Seemingly staring straight at Lockwood crouched in the dense foliage.

Lockwood held his breath closing his eyes to send a fervent prayer and when he opened them, both men were blessedly gone. He blew a relieved breath and turned to go back to Nightway Castle.

Sqawking when he met the furious gaze of the tawny man a hairsbreadth from his face.

A vise like grip shot out to encircle Lockwood’s neck and lifted him.

He struggled against that grip, clawing at the hand holding him and kicking violently. He choked and gargled, staring into the glittering gold eyes of his assailant. After a fearful moment, he was slowly lowered back to the ground.

“You may tell your Queen what you’ve witnessed, thus is your duty. But tell her nothing of me.” His grip eased. It was unmistakable this close that this man was an exact replica of Alazareth.

The stranger’s pupils had elongated and were now slits. Animalistic gold eyes.

Lockwood couldn’t keep the confusion from his face. He nodded emphatically.

“I won’t tell her of you, sir.”

“Thank you.” He released Lockwood. Eying his hand as though disgusted for touching him.

“Go home to your family, Lockwood. Treat them now as they deserve. No longer like dogs. They’re all you have, fool.” The man turned and was already disappearing into the trees. Lockwood couldn’t form the words to ask how he’d known until it was too late.

Lockwood was rooted where he stood.