Keeping her Vow
Aran woke with a sudden start, his senses coming from an almost comforting, muted dullness into screaming reality. He was bound tightly with rawhide strips, his arms pulled behind him and tied at the wrists to the far side of a stout tree. He flexed his shoulders and biceps, powerfully built as he was he could not break his bonds. He figured it to be just before dawn, the fire had burnt down to smoldering gray ash with the vaguest stirring of faint orange within when the wind blew, easily rekindled, just like his anger at his predicament. The golden warrior realized then through his fury that Aurianne had made a mistake in trying to secure him. By binding him to the tree she must release him if they were to leave, and then he would retaliate. All he had to do was wait.
He could see the other two men sleeping peacefully. Aurianne though was already up, sitting still, almost as though she were a beautiful statue of Artemis. Her bow was already slung over her shoulder, and her quiver of raven's feathered arrows at her back. Aran stared at her for long moments, he was unsure if she was aware if he was awake. How did this happen? The events of last evening made no sense to him. Now he was a captive, and the tables were turned.
"We will ride to your people today," she said softly, and without malice. Not once looking in his direction, but rather to the point where the sun must shortly rise. "You will show us the way. When we get there I will free you, and you can go to greet them. We will wait, and from there we shall negotiate for my clansman's freedom."
Aran could not believe this stunning woman was dictating the terms to him, just like the diminutive Dahlia had. It irked him, but currently he had little choice but to listen. He however, did not reply. After last night all bets were off.
As the first light began to break the horizon the others woke, they quietly got ready to leave. The horses were brought and saddled. Aurianne walked over to Aran, curiously she had a stout log in her hand. "Time to come," she said. Before he had quite realized it Aran felt a sharp pain to his head and nothing more.
*****
He woke abruptly as he felt cold water wash over him poured from a canteen. He spat and coughed, and his head mightily hurt. The world was upside down, no wait, he was tied to a horse! His hands and ankles were bound beneath the beast's belly, exactly as he had done to Aurianne many months before. Aran silently fumed and steeled himself for the uncomfortable journey ahead. Fortunately, he knew it was not far.
Reluctantly he guided them north, he tried not to think of his simmering anger, but of his brother and how good it would be to see him again. Then to show Bennett that he had succeeded with the impossible. He would take Maya back from Gareth, and he could resume his rightful place within the clan, and Aurianne? Well he was not quite so sure what he would do with her yet.
As they got closer Aurianne no longer needed her reluctant guide, she knew that just over the horizon the secret valley lay. She halted her horse, and swung out of the saddle, walking over to her prisoner. "Now we are going to let you go," she said. "You will be free to go to your people. We will wait here." The redhead stood with her bow trained on Aran, her eyes hard, as Jhary cut his bonds. The large man slid from the horse onto numb feet, rubbing his wrists to retrieve his circulation. He said nothing, but turned from the group and headed north on foot alone. The trio watched him depart.
"What do we do now?" Jhary asked.
"We wait, and take cover, and we remain vigilant. It is very likely he will bring all the members of his clan, and we may have to fight our way out of here."
*****
Aran jogged toward his home despite the headache that jolted in his skull with every stride he took. As he drew closer to the entrance to the valley, he noted that only one of the heavy ox carts remained, and he wondered if the warriors had burned the other one in desperate need of firewood. The unusual winter had been long and harsh, and the trees here were very few.
He made the steep, descending pathway, noting there was no one designated to the watch.
Unusual,
he thought, so he paused at the top to cast his gaze down into the valley. Everything below still appeared much the same as when he had left it. A few black and white goats leaped playfully between the rocky crags below. He could see a small plume of smoke, presumably coming from a cooking fire. The garden looked as though it had not been planted, or perhaps it was planted very late, the furrows still just reddish soil. It was quiet though, too quiet.
He began his descent, he belonged here, but something told him he should proceed quietly and not attract undue attention.
*****
Sven had felt much better in recent weeks. He hurt less and had regained most of the movement in his arm, and along with that, he felt more purposeful. He found he enjoyed not having to mentally spar with the other warriors, who had no longer looked at him as a valuable member of the clan. Especially the specter of Wezley Bennett, dangerously looming over him, holding him hostage against his family's welfare. At night he slept more restfully, at least when he didn't have the recurring nightmares that had refused to leave him since his mutilation at the hands of Victor Krosse. However, he could not complain, he was very much alive, and finally King of all he surveyed. On this warm morning, he sat dozing in the sun, the early but successful hunt had wearied his still-healing body.
He opened his gray eyes suddenly sensing he was not alone, automatically reaching for the firearm that always lay close by his side. He saw before him a pair of large, dusty well-worn boots, strong legs covered in hide leggings, and a broad, bare-chested physique he would have known anywhere.
