Daryk Warrior by Denise A. Agnew

the noise and
hustle and bustle were considerably louder. People looked anxious.
    “Something’s wrong.” Eryk started back toward their lodging.
“I need to investigate.”
    He took her hand this time, and the heat of his big palm and
fingers raced with a tingle up her arm. Rather than question him, she followed
as he practically ran back to their lodging. Finny wasn’t at the front of the
lodging when they reached it. They hurried to their room.
    “Stay here,” he said after she’d walked into the room. “I’ll
be back later. Rest if you can.”
    Apprehension went straight to fear. “What’s happening?”
    “Maybe word of a battle nearby or plans to attack Felican
Castle. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He drew a large dagger from his belt
and laid it on the table. “Do not let anyone in but me. If someone breaks in,
don’t hesitate to use this. If you hear battle sounds, get on the floor near
the bed or under the bed. I’ll come for you as soon as possible. Put the chair
in front of the door. When I return I’ll knock and call out so you know it’s
me.”
    He started to leave and she reached out for his arm and
pushed tight words through her throat. “Please. Be careful.”
    He nodded. “Always.”
    With that, he left.

Chapter Five
     
    Eryk navigated through the crowd, well aware panic gripped
some as they rushed to return home within the castle walls or to bed down for
the night in the courtyards and common areas. Few would leave the castle if an
attack came. He needed intelligence now. He searched the area for other Daryk
Ones and didn’t see any recognizable faces.
    Fuck.
    All he’d wanted for the rest of the day was a good drink and
a soft bed. That wouldn’t come anytime soon if conflict broke out at the
castle. Number one, his priority felt like it should be Mia, but he knew his
duty as a Daryk One should come first. Defend the people. Defend the common
good.
    The tavern house in the farthest south corner of the castle
sat three stories tall, its second and third floors accommodation for guests.
The proprietor slept in the gloomy damp cellar level, a surprising thing if
ever there was a surprise. He spotted the tavern sign above the crowd. Felican
Tavern. A dull and plain wood sign. No need for embellishments or fancy titles.
This tavern served all that came in with many types of drinks. They didn’t
discriminate, and while he could have brought Mia with him, he didn’t want her
out in a possibly dangerous situation. If she tried to run again…well what
could he seriously do?
    Two clearly intoxicated men stumbled out of the tavern and
almost ran into him. He ignored the far smaller men and pushed the big door
open. It protested, a loud squawk that didn’t pause the equally voluminous
chatter within the good-sized room. Laughter broke out. People of all heights,
weights and dispositions filled tables, eating and drinking and flirting.
Taverns didn’t care if you were man or woman. Money and drink were the name of
the game. Annalica was nowhere in sight. Damn. Eryk moved across the
room to the bar area and ordered an ale. Before he could ask he felt a tap on
his shoulder. He swung around and a fist came straight at his face. He ducked
and caught the hand that came for him, squeezed the bunched fist in on itself.
    A tall, beautiful woman with silvery blonde hair that flowed
to her waist was attached to the fist. Blue eyes flashed like cold fire, a
strange glow that sometimes hovered above Imekland mountains at night.
    Annalica.
    She jerked her fist from his grip and planted her hands on
her hips. Her glare could strip the hide off a dragon at a hundred paces. “You
bastard. What are you doing in my tavern?”
    Half amused, he lifted one eyebrow. People all around them
gawked but he didn’t give a shite. “Good to see you too, Annalica.”
    Her glare didn’t soften but she rounded the side of the bar.
Maybe she thought she needed protection from him. If she threw another