Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera Read online

  Once he was done with his burger, he slipped Thomas a French fry from his own meal, and moved into the living room, a cold beer in hand. He put his bare feet on the coffee table and clicked on ESPN. He watched game highlights for a couple of minutes but felt himself nodding off. He got up and cleaned the kitchen quickly, brushed his teeth, and stripped down to his boxers. Exhausted, he fell into bed. There was a small thud on the bed as Thomas joined him, lying by Drace’s feet, purring like a motorboat.

  Chapter Two

  “LANCE!” DRACE SCREAMED through his helm. The cry seemed lost to Joe over the sound of pounding hooves.

  Drace bellowed again, “Joe, drop your lance!”

  Joe continued to carry his lance too high and showed no signs of having heard the warning. Is he trying to take my head off? Drace wondered. The lance would splinter if it hit breastplate, but it wouldn’t hit his face. At the last possible second Drace knew he was in trouble and involuntary jerked the reins back hard. The sudden pain in Pride’s mouth caused him to check too quickly and he stumbled. At the speed Pride was running, he could not regain his footing and started to fall. Things turned from bad to worse. The fall felt like an eternity and Drace tried to brace for the pain.

  Shit, shit, shit! thought Drace in that split second it took Pride and him to go down. Now he knew he was going to get the lance in the face. He jerked his head to the side, then saw bright lights, and then nothing.

  Drace slowly regained consciousness. His head feeling like it had been split open. He opened one eye in a tiny slit and saw nothing. He hesitantly opened his other eye; still nothing. Damn, he thought, I’m dead. He felt groggy and his heart raced, thumping wildly against his ribs. He shut his eyes again. Don’t panic, he thought. Oh Christ, I think I’m blind!

  He tried to take a couple of deep breaths but was unable to draw a deep one. It felt as if something was covering his mouth. Somewhere past where he lay he heard Pride snort fearfully, then a calming voice. The horse quieted.

  He tried his eyes again; again nothing. He felt panic start to build as the pain started to radiate from the bridge of his nose. “Ah, shit!” he swore silently.

  He tested moving his fingers then his brick-heavy arms. He realized he was still in one piece and raised them to his head. Shakily, he touched his face and found his helm had twisted from the blow of the lance.

  “Easy,” a soft voice instructed. “Let me help you.”

  The helm shifted slightly and pain shot through his temples and nose and behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth through the pain. One more slight twist and his helmet lifted free. He tried to roll onto his side but his armor made him feel like an upside down turtle.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” he muttered hoarsely to his unknown helper.

  Hands grabbed his shoulder and arm and helped him onto his side as he retched.

  “Damn,” he coughed. His head felt like someone was hammering against his skull. Spots of light flashed behind his eyelids.

  A cool cloth wiped his face. “Lay still now, this will make it better.” Soft, warm hands cupped his face from behind him, thumbs gently pressed against his temples, pushing until he rolled onto his back again. Strange warmth seemed to flow from his temples and spread through his entire body, like entering a warm bath. He felt his muscles relax and the blinding pain in his head lessened to a milder ache.

  He braved opening his eyes again…and looked up into violet eyes, “Vashti?” Oh, thank God, he thought, I’m not blind. He blinked up at Vashti and felt the throbbing of his nose, “I think my nose is broken.”

  She smiled sympathetically down at him, “I believe you are right, my Lord. Lay still for a moment. You will be fine. Let me tie Pride and then I will help you up.”

  Drace felt disoriented from the fall, “Yeah, ok. I’m just glad I’m not dead.”

  He turned his head to follow her with his eyes as she went to Pride and with the reins, tied him to a tree

  A tree? Drace bolted into a sitting position and looked around. His stomach lurched alarmingly at the sudden movement. “Where the hell am I?”

  “Be still, my Lord!” Vashti exclaimed, rushing back to him, “You are weak as a kitten right now.”

  Drace still sat with legs outstretched, staring at his gloved hands in his lap, surpassing the urge to retch again. He mentally ran the recent events over in his mind, trying to explain how he came to be outside. The nearest memory was of Pride and him mid-fall, squeezing his eyes shut just before the lance’s impact. Now I’m outside. He felt a second of panic pull at him, quickly followed by a helpless anger at his lack of knowledge of his whereabouts.

  “Get a grip MacKinnon,” he muttered to himself. “Freaking out isn’t going to solve anything.” He took a deep breath to get his temper under control and looked up at Vashti, “What the hell is going on? How did we get out here?”

  Vashti knelt down and put a hand on his arm. “Listen to me, my Lord. There are some answers that I cannot give you now, but I will try to explain some of this.” She patted his arm gently and then gave it a little squeeze, “Let me get you some water. I think you could use it.”

  Drace nodded mutely thinking he could use something a lot stronger than water.

  Vashti rose and hurried to another horse he had not noticed before. A white Arabian-looking gelding stood tied next to Pride, wearing a saddle and saddlebags. A water pouch was tied to the front of her saddle, which Vashti removed and brought back to Drace along with a wooden cup she brought from her saddlebags. She poured as she walked. Drace looked at the bow and quiver strapped to the side of the saddle and then noticed her strange attire. Minutes ago, before all this craziness, she had been wearing the black and crimson outfit of the Black Knight’s squire.

  “What the…?” he pondered, feeling that slow burn of anger fade to confusion.

  She now wore fitted breeches of soft tanned leather, which appeared butter soft, a white long sleeve blouse, a vest of matching leather, and knee-high brown boots. On the left side of her wide belt was a wicked looking dagger and on the right, a leather pouch. Suddenly an absurd thought popped into his confused mind. “You! You’re Russian!” he blurted. He pointed a shaking finger at her.

  Vashti started in surprise, spilling water from the cup, “What?”

  “That’s the accent. I’ve figured you out.”

  He tried to get his legs under him to stand, but waves of nausea had him tucking his head between upraised knees, a clammy sweat dewing his forehead.

  “Well,” she breathed. “This is the time for that explanation, I suppose. No, my Lord, I am not Russian.” She handed him the cup. “Now drink.”

  She sighed, and settled herself cross-legged beside him. Drace raised his head to look at her.

  With a slight bow of her head in introduction, she informed him, patiently and slowly for she knew he was still groggy. “I am Vashti of Ferndale. I am of the elfish race and I am a sorceress. My master and I have need of your help and we have brought you here. I will let him explain the why.” Vashti saw the beginnings of disbelief on Drace’s expression but she continued. “The fatigue you are feeling is from the crossing over. I am sorry about that, but it is a side effect of that spell. Unfortunately, your nose does appear broken. I was not able to control the whole of your exit.”

  Disbelief soon grew to astonishment. Drace opened his mouth open, but words failed him until Vashti grabbed his nose and with a little twist and jerk, set it. That quickly switched his attention; his bellow of pain made both horses pull back on their ties.

  He found he had his legs back when he scrambled up and hurried to Pride and spoke soothingly while his brain screamed expletives. “Easy, easy, there’s a good boy. Sorry I scared you.” Pride snorted and placed his muzzle in Drace’s hand to be petted.

  Drace bent at the waist once Pride was calm as a wave of dizziness hit him He held a hand out to keep Vashti seated. “I’m fine. I stood up too fast and got a head-rush.”

  Once recovered, he st
raightened then stalked over to her. “Jesus Christ woman!” he swore, gingerly touching his nose. “Are you trying to kill me?” He made a noise of frustration deep in his throat. “Damn it to Hell and back!”

  Vashti solemnly shook her head at the display, letting him vent his frustration.

  “Okay, okay,” he paced as he gathered his thoughts. “Why the big show? Why have me get clobbered and take that spill? Wait a minute!” He rushed back to Pride and inspected the horse nose to tail. Except for a small scrape on one knee the horse was fine.

  “If this horse had gotten hurt…” he couldn’t finish the thought.

  “We will be staying here tonight. It is a long ride tomorrow and we both need to rest,” Vashti informed him as she went to him to help remove his armor. Drace flinched when she touched him. His nose still throbbed where she had set it. She made him a bit nervous. He wasn’t sure if she had all her marbles and was thinking he had lost several of his own. It would probably be best if I humor her until I figure all this out, he thought.

  He noticed for the first time the fatigue on her face and his flash of anger faded. He felt a moment of embarrassment, remembering his tirade from moments ago. Once he was stripped down to his breeches and heavy linen shirt he looked around and quietly said, “What can I do to help?”

  “Would you unsaddle the horses, my Lord?” Vashti asked him. Drace nodded at her request. “One more thing, my Lord,” she added. “You should not swear so much. It is rude.” A dull red crept over Drace’s lean cheekbones as he flushed, chagrined at his language in front of a lady.

  Drace had already decided he was having a crazy dream brought on by watching a rerun of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. I’ll wake up at any time with Thomas curled up in my lap. Might as well play along and enjoy it. He made a mocking bow to Vashti, and with a wry grin said, “But of course, my Lady; my pardon.” He did wonder, however, When is she going to tell me what the hell is going on?

  Darkness was approaching quickly, which caused Vashti to rise and head into the brush. Drace took in his surroundings. They were in a small clearing, encircled by thick stands of tall trees. The undergrowth was scattered with young trees, shrubs, and sparse grasses. He thought some of the growth looked familiar, poplar and maples, but some were species he had never seen. Some had large maple-like leaves…only the shapes were more rounded. At least the fireflies seemed normal, he thought.

  Drace had Vashti’s gelding untacked and was unsaddling Pride when Vashti returned with an armload of wood and set to work making a fire. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra halter would you?” Drace asked, fingering her horse’s rope halter.

  “Of course,” she replied, digging through her saddlebags and handing him a similar rope halter along with a large rag to rub the horses down; then she pulled out four softball size pieces of quartz.

  She disappeared back into the woods and Drace could hear the rustling of the underbrush, making a circle around the camp; then she returned—empty-handed. She went over and rummaged in her bags and came up with a wrapped bundle, along with two blankets. She headed to the waiting pile of firewood.

  “I am famished, my Lord, and I am sure you are also. Please, come and sit.”

  He quickly finished both horses and tied them with enough lead so they could graze. He walked up to Vashti. “What were those crystal things for?” he asked.

  “Those are warning crystals. We are well into the Clan lands but they will serve to warn me if danger comes close tonight.”

  Drace sniffed in exasperation, which he instantly regretted. He gingerly cupped his nose and fought back tears of pain. “Great! he exclaimed. Now I’ve got to watch out for the Ku Klux Klan and Bambi! It gets better and better. I’ll be glad when I wake up from this crazy dream.”

  Vashti gave him a slightly amused look before commenting on his outburst. “I do not know of that clan,” she said, “Clan Lionblade holds these lands. They are fierce protectors, and probably already know we are here.”

  Drace felt the night chill through the single layer of his shirt and breeches . “Hey, I hope you have a match in that bag of yours.” He tugged at his black breeches and with a grin said, “No pockets.”

  Vashti looked at him for a second, gave him the blankets to hold, and said, “Please step back, my Lord.” She turned her attention to the wood, muttered something unintelligible, and proceeded to scare the hell out of Drace. Blue flame seemed to crawl over the fingertips of her left hand. She gave a flick of her wrist, and flung the flames onto the wood. With a hiss and crackle, the dry wood ignited.

  “Holy Shit!” Drace mumbled. The air around him seemed to pulse with something he couldn’t identify. I’m losing my marbles for sure. That hit I took is worse than I thought if I’m having hallucinations…and that was a hell of a hallucination.

  Vashti and Drace ate a quiet meal of cheese and flat oat bread. She then showed Drace a pool of water that she claimed was a fairy pool. They led the horses to it and let them drink, then returned them to the camp and retied them to graze. Drace added a couple pieces of wood to the fire then he and Vashti settled down in their blankets.

  Drace had just tucked his hand under his head when Vashti touched his arm and put a finger to his lips. He eased up on an elbow. She pulled a small stone on a leather throng from her shirt and pulled his hand to it. It was warm, warmer than from just her body heat. Vashti twisted slightly and whispered softly, “To my left; do not speak.”

  Drace moved a fraction and saw the glow of some animals’ eyes reflected from the firelight. They blinked then disappeared. He caught a glimpse of a large black feline body that was gone so fast he thought he might have imagined it. Goose bumps pebbled his skin as a cold chill shot down his spine.

  Vashti continued in a whisper, “From the Clan. My Lady will know by morning I am here, and will be expecting us tomorrow.”

  “You mean to tell me that,” he paused, “I think it was a panther, will tell someone we are coming?” he whispered back.

  “Yes.” She looked him straight in the eye. “The stone on my necklace grows warm when something passes within the perimeter of the crystals. They have been watching for some time. The horses did not even seem to notice.”

  “There was more than one of those?” Drace asked in disbelief. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickled.

  “Yes, there was one other. If we do not arrive tomorrow, they will come looking for us. Go to sleep, my Lord. We are now perfectly safe.”

  Drace lie back as she bade him, but lay awake for a long time, feeling nervous at the thought of large felines, possible man-eating for all he knew, wandering around in the dark close to him. Visions of being pounced on popped into his mind. Some time later he muttered grumpily under his breath where she couldn’t hear him, swearing and fuming, and then clearly he grumbled. “Quit calling me my Lord.”

  Chapter Three

  DAWN FOUND DRACE flat on his back, dreaming of an extremely large panther talking to a woman, whose features he couldn’t clearly see. He got the impression she was beautiful, but it was like looking into a mist. Everything seemed vague as he walked towards her for a better look. Something buzzed his face and he tried to brush it away. He bumped his nose with the back of his hand and instantly came awake.

  “Damn it all to hell!” he swore quietly and rolled up onto his knees. He cupped his nose with both hands, and gritted his teeth as pain radiated through his head. When the pain subsided, he sat back on his heels and ran his hands through his tangled hair.

  The sound of water splashing made him look; he saw Pride stretched, having a leisurely piss. He became aware of the state of his own bladder and looked around for Vashti’s whereabouts. The fire was burning again with something that looked like a thick tortilla cooking on a flat rock on the fire’s edge.

  Knowing she wouldn’t leave the fire for long, he decided she was allowing him a moment of privacy. He rose to his feet, went to Pride, and put the horse between himself and the camp. Betwee
n the two of them, he thought that spot was well watered.

  He led his horse to the fairy pool for a drink, and to wash his hands and face. Kneeling by the pool, he saw his reflection for the first time. He leaned forward on his knees and gasped. Whoa! he thought. The bridge of his nose was swollen and bruised; both eyes were blackened; and a nasty bruise covered one cheekbone. There was dried blood in his tangled hair and he had a days’ worth of beard stubble. He looked like the victim of a car accident. “Wow, MacKinnon. You’re lookin’ good,” he quipped.

  There was a fluttering noise by his ear, which he nonchalantly swatted, thinking it was a bee or a fly. Then a small voice exclaimed, “Oh!”

  Drace jerked back in surprise, twisting around to find the source of the voice, one hand on the ground for balance.

  The fairy flicked quickly out of sight behind some leaves of a small bush. Drace’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “No, no, I saw and heard you.” Drace used the voice he usually used for skittish horses. Fairies… of course. I’ve already survived the panthers. At least the fairy was cute, and he hoped, harmless.

  She peeked out from her leaves, shaking her tiny head.

  “Now come on. I won’t hurt you,” he crooned.

  She shook her head again.

  “Please?”

  She hesitantly came forward. Drace held out a large hand and she flew down, stepped onto it, and relaxed her dragonfly-like wings. She had very long black hair, and her eyes were very blue. She wore dark magenta flower petals as a dress.

  “Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing?” Drace whispered.

  The fairy replied in a high bell like sound. Drace shook his head. “I don’t understand, sorry.”

  She made the sounds again then took flight, landing on this shoulder, her wings buzzing. “Oh.” She placed one tiny hand on his bruised cheekbone and repeated, “Oh.”