Page 72 of Caress of Fire
Then he got back to his feet and wrapped a protective arm around Marielle, turning to his men. They stared at him, wide-eyed and uncertain.
“Officer Brandlo, you are my new Captain of the Guard until Henron comes back.” Fedryc looked at Henron’s second in command. “Take the Lady Marielle to—”
But Fedryc’s words were cut short as one of the guards shouted.
“Lord Fedryc!” A Delradon woman, one of the servants, rushed to the platform. Her eyes were glassy and her face was flushed. “You need to come. There are too many, we can’t contain them.”
Fedryc frowned and, still holding Marielle close, walked into the castle. He knew he should send Marielle back to their apartments but the very thought of being away from her made him want to rip things apart. In the hallway, he walked past Silva and her gold dragon, who immediately started walking behind them.
“What happened, Cousin Fedryc?” The girl looked at him with wide eyes as she tried to keep up with his long strides. “I heard dragon roars. Is Nyra back?”
“Yes.” Fedryc tilted his head sideways to look at the teenager. He had nothing to gain from lying to her and the girl was in as much danger as he. “And no. She has a mate now. But I don’t think she will stay gone long.”
“A mate?” Silva’s disbelief was understandable, but Fedryc had no time to discuss it with his cousin. “How could that be?”
“What do you know of the disturbance?” Fedryc ignored Silva’s question and addressed Captain Brandlo.
The captain spoke fast into his commu-link, then looked up at Fedryc with disbelieving eyes.
“It seems we have refugees at the castle’s door.”
“Refugees?”
Fedryc didn’t have time to ask more questions. They emerged in the main courtyard to face what seemed to be a hundred people, closely holding on to each other in small groups. Women, children and men huddled in what were obviously family groups, dirty and weak.
Fedryc’s eyes caught on an old woman, who held a small child of two or three years to her breast. The child was almost naked, its shirt ripped to ribbons, the fabric stained with blood. An angry red sign covered the tiny shoulder almost entirely.
The circle with the cross. The mark of evil for those of impure blood.
“Sordied sangui,” Captain Brandlo whispered. “Mors abomina.”
Fedryc turned his head to see the captain staring with eyes full of superstitious awe as the group of people—mostly humans but not exclusively—started to cry and call out, having noticed Fedryc up on the higher level.
“Captain Brandlo.” Fedryc’s harsh voice seemed to shake some reason into the man and the Delradon officer looked back at him, standing to attention. “Bring the Lady Marielle and Lady Silva back to my apartments. I will personally hold you responsible for her health and the health of our unborn child. Do you understand me?”
The revelation made the man open his mouth like he was gasping for breath. All color deserted his face as he looked back at Marielle, a new reverence in his eyes. He bowed deep, then straightened.
“I will protect her with my life, my Lord.” Captain Brandlo extended an arm for Marielle, then motioned to two more guards.
As Marielle looked at him, her eyes full of fear but also full of trust, Fedryc locked gazes with the Delradon guard.
“Yes, you will. Because if anything happens to any of them, there will be nowhere for you to hide.”
With one last fearful look, the Delradon guard led Marielle and Silva away, and Fedryc turned to the people who had come to him for protection, wondering if he would ever be able to cleanse his land of the threat of the Knat-Kanassis.
Chapter 24
Fedryc stood in the middle of the courtyard, the refugees all around him, their bony, desperate faces on him with reserved expressions. Reserve, despair and hope radiated from the refugees’ faces, from the refugees’ eyes, mixing with the strong stench of unwashed bodies and disease.
“Who leads you?” Fedryc asked, turning around to see the old woman clutching the toddler step outside the circle.
She had the weathered face and bent back of a woman who had worked all her life just to survive. In her arms, the toddler slept, the mark on his shoulder even more horrible now that he was nearby. She wore her weariness in every wrinkle but her clear orange eyes peered at him with acute assessment. She was Delradon, but the child she held against her chest was human.
Fedryc didn’t ask why.
He frowned, staring as the old woman held his gaze without flinching despite her age and fragility. She forced his respect instantly.
“My name is Aifa. I led them here.” The old woman spoke, her voice raspy with dehydration. “I told them the High Lord would protect us if we just could get to him alive.”
