Page 21 of A Crown Without Mercy

“Maybe it’s time one of us pays Enatta a visit,” Kieran suggested.

Nicolai finished his drink and set his cup down. “I’ll stop by the Marques manor today.” He then looked at Kieran. “By the way, did you feel the pull toward Sylvana the other night?”

“I did. Obviously you felt it as well?”

“What pull?” Riordan asked.

“I can’t explain it, but her energy felt centuries old,” Nicolai said.

“I agree. It is as if I was being pulled by the energy of a mate,” Kieran admitted.

Riordan laughed aloud. “The pull of a mate? What the fuck did the two of you have to drink?”

Nicolai stood up, walked to the window, and stared into the courtyard. “It is true Riordan, I felt it as well.”

“Only those with Ascelin blood running through their veins have that kind of a pull on

another purebred—” Riordan stopped mid-sentence and looked at Nicolai and Kieran. “I want to meet her tonight.”

“I’ll go to her after I’ve finished with Enatta. I’ve already invited her,” Nicolai replied.

“If I feel the slightest pull, we will send two of our Barouqe Warriors to keep their eyes on her until we figure out what the hell is going on with her and her family,” Riordan said.

Kadric came to the edge of The Black Moor, pulled his stallion to a halt and stared at the churning waves of vaporous mist swirling over the abysmally dark river rolling over large boulders and rotting trunks. The sounds of the creatures had long ago disappeared, and he had seen neither man nor beast for hours. And an ominous silence hung heavy in the air, as if salivating over its prey. Clumps of wet moss hung from the spotted, black boughs of the contorted trees, and he could taste the pungent aroma oozing from the foliage and brackish mud. His horse dug at the dirt with his front hooves and became increasingly agitated.

Kadric reached out and ran his hand beneath his horse’s wavy, charcoal mane and spoke gently. “Shhh, it’s okay, Kesaro. Calm boy,” he urged.

He dismounted Kesaro and led him to the edge of the river. “Drink boy.” He placed his hand on the dagger hanging from his hip and scanned the immediate area.

This is no place for the living,he told himself. He kneeled down, cupped the water in his hands, and splashed it on his face. After he felt Kesaro had enough, he walked him back to the tree and tied him up. He then sat down, removed his sword from the sheath on his back and laid it across his lap. With a wave of his hand, he cloaked himself and Kesaro and leaned his back against the tree, heavy in thought. He listened to the slapping of the waves against the bank, and the rumbling of stones being confined within the depths of the water as they were carried downstream.

He had not realized he dozed off until the single snap of a branch off in the distance startled him. He wrapped his fist tightly around the hilt of his sword, placed his other hand on the damp ground, feeling its vibrations, and listened intently before he caught sight of the creature.

It had a bestial look in its eyes; its heavy breathing and snorting sounded as lifeless as the groans from an ancient grave. Its knotty hands shoved the brush aside with each slow step it took in his direction as if beckoning him to raise his blade. He knew the creature could not see him, but it was clear by how it pointed its ears and lifted its nose to the air it had caught the scent of its prey.

An inbred Lycan,he thought.

Kadric remained frozen in place with his eyes locked on the creature. Its hair was knotted with mud and small bits of debris, while its pointed ears sprouted out from either side of its head. Its skin was covered in large, spiny hairs similar to that of a boar. Its face had a distorted wolf like appearance, and a long jaw line while rows of colossal, gray teeth glinted from beneath its curled lips. A single loin cloth made from the skins of its victims hung from its waist, revealing its upper body, which was marred with wounds from countless battles; some of which appeared to be recent, while others looked old. The scent of the creature was a heady mixture of the decaying forest, festering wounds, and dried blood.

Kadric slowly rose to his feet, as the creature stared at the trunk of the tree and scanned it from top to bottom, while its blackened tongue slid across its long, leathery lips. Its head moved from side to side, and the hackles raised along its back and neck as it took one cautious step forward. A low snarl rose from deep within its chest and drips of saliva lingered from its mouth before falling onto the ground at its feet.

Let’s do this, big guy,Kadric said to himself as he adjusted his body into a defensive stance.

The creature took one cautious step, followed by another, and then another; without warning, it swung its wide hand and outstretched claws with unearthly power in Kadric’s direction.

Kadric ducked and fluently leapt to the side, evading the blow before he brought his blade across the creature’s midsection. It let out a thunderous roar and violently spun its massive body in his direction without cause or reason, as if he had gone mad with determination to spill Kadric’s blood.

Kadric recoiled his blade and swung again. However, the beast lunged and flung one arm toward Kadric’s sword, knocking it to the side, while it’s other hand crossed Kadric’s forearm where its curved claws tore through his sleeve and into his flesh.

Kadric gathered his sword off the ground, leap into the air, and his blade seared through the flesh on its back as he landed behind the creature. It let out a roar of pain, spun around, dropped to all fours, leapt over Kadric, and ran through the tree line, as if it was not willing to stay and fight what it could not see. Kadric gave chase and followed the sound of breaking branches and the crunching of the brush, and it was not long before the sounds became muted against the agony of the raging river. He stood at the edge of the ravine and looked down for any sight of the creature. He took a step back, turned, and walked around using slow, choreographed movements, He then lifted his chin and took a deep breath through his nostrils and caught its scent. He grasped his sword with both hands and cautiously moved forward.

Shit! They are not supposed to be hunting on this side of the river.

He noticed a piece of material hanging from a bush; he stuck it with the tip of his sword and lifted it into the air before him. After studying it momentarily, he tossed it into the ravine, kneeled down, and stared at the pool of blood.

Ranan had better have some answers.As Kadric walked back to his stallion, he looked at his torn sleeve and pulled the material apart, noticing the deep laceration was now mostly superficial.It looks like we both survived to fight another day.

Chapter 4

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