MIDAS
She is the most maddening, exasperating creature he has ever had the misfortune of crossing paths with.
And yet, half the time he is unsure if he simple wishes to push her up against a wall, with her legs wrapped around him and kiss her senseless or have her sent to the gallows and hung for her disrespect.
He strides through the halls of the palace, almost but not quite oblivious of the heads bowing in his path.
What in all the realms had she meant?
The image returns to him with startling clarity. The crisscross of faded pink lines stark against her pale skin and a seething anger snakes its way around him.
Only a monster would do something that cruel to someone so…so…defenseless.
A monster like him
Damn it, why did it even bother him so much that she thought him in some way responsible for whatever... whoever had caused it?
He who had her sent to the cellars barely hours ago.
And yet, the sight of her scars had filled him with the need to tear apart the person responsible for inflicting them on her.
The sun is a glittering eye of luminous gold in the vast cloudless sky of the dragon realm that remains a pallid grey color even with the breeze bringing in the smells of golden wheat fields and late summer apples.
Leo appears at his side as he steps out of the palace, seamlessly falling in step with him as his feet cover the transition from smooth stone to rough uncut rocks.
“Speak”
“The Clan of Rardath claim there has been deliberate provocations from Adarin’s men months in the making.”
He stalks towards the waiting horses. “And Adarin’s men?”
“Deny any such acts being directed at their neighbors and feel that Rardath’s attempts at retaliation are not only misplaced but go beyond the bounds of what is acceptable and will no longer be tolerated.”
Midas stops and turns to look at his Chief Ryder, one brow arching in question. “Why was I not informed of this earlier?”
“The clans initially thought to settle their squabbles among themselves my Lord”
“And now?”
Leo’s voice is a calm, monotone delivering facts with no bias. “Now Adarin’s son has been hurt in a recent skirmish and his father is beside himself with anger.”
Midas tilts his head slightly in silent contemplation before taking the reins of his stead from the waiting servants.
Relations between the dragon clans of Adarin and Rardath have always been tense.
The results of a feud hundreds of years in the making.
But acts of aggression from either side given how closely situated they were to one another was not only strange, it could not be tolerated.
And now someone had been hurt.
Both men had been leaders during the time of his father and despite the many years of his own rule as dragon King, with him no longer ageing and his appearance remaining that of a young man maybe they still thought him too young to handle matters with origins preceding his birth.
It seems he would have to ride out and remind both clan leaders of exactly who decided what would be tolerated or not.
The deep ebony Andalusian brays when he mounts it, swishing its thick neck and kicking up dirt with its hooves.
The horse had been a favorite of his father and now, it was simply a reminder of what he had lost.
He finds himself looking up, somehow knowing she’s watching him even before he sees her.
Hair blowing in the wind and framed by the window like a portrait of a Fairy queen captured in mid motion.
He can’t see her expression, not from this far away but he doesn’t need to.
He flicks the reins and the horse turns away beginning a brisk canter towards the gates and as he rides out, descending the steep rocky hills on which the dragon castle sits, his mind completes the image for him.
Her glacial blue eyes awash with defiance as real as the rocky path ahead of him.
And he knows….just knows she’s going to do something stupid.
What he can’t decide is if the rush in his blood is from the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he drives the horse hard, tearing through rolling vistas in a blur with Leo following closely behind
Or if it’s her.
And even though he doesn’t know it, one side of his lip curls up in cruel anticipation of the challenge.
Adarin and Rardath are clans of herders and breeders and are both located far beyond the city walls.
This journey is not one he intended to take today and it irritates him to no end.
He decides not to pass through the heart of the city. While it is the shorter route, it would doubtlessly require him to slow down and he did not wish to do so.
He had a lot of….frustration to ride out.
So instead he banks a hard right and sends his stead galloping towards the wooded darkness of the Elder forest.
The serenity of the forest is interrupted by the pounding hooves, sending bird squawking loudly above the trees that towered like sentinels with their rich brown barks and broad wide leaves blocking out the sunlight so everything below is shrouded in a sort of semi darkness.
If his travelling companion finds it strange that the King has chosen the most unsafe route he makes no indication of it.
His body is wound up like a tight coil and he welcomes the danger, wishes someone or something would dare attack him.
But it would not be enough, he knows that.
Not with the way wanting her had snuck under his skin and sank its claws so deep in him, his bones fairly ached with lust and his mind burned with something bordering on the edge of curiosity but not quite reaching it.
What had her life been like before now?
He’s not worried about Leo as he races through the trees at neck breaking speed. His chief Ryder would keep up; he was the only one who could.
The landscape changes suddenly and the sun is high in the sky as they break through the trees, bearing down on them with a fierce, unforgiving heat and although it is still a quite a number of paces of hard riding, he can see the smoke rising from the settlements of the closer of the two clans.
That they had allowed this disagreement, whatever the reason, fester to the point of violence right under his nose was a slight Midas would not….could not allow to go unchecked and as he flicks the reins of the horse sending the Andalusian races across the rolling fields, he pushes Hera with her supple skin and intoxicating lips with great difficulty to the back of his mind.
Where she sits, waiting to sneak back in the minute he lets down his guard.
The leaders of both clans sit stiffly on their horses beside each other with their men behind them.
The meeting point is a few miles north of the Rardath encampments of fire pits and tents made from deer skin.
As he nears they dismount, bowing low before he even arrives.
Midas pulls hard and sharp on the reins of his horse, causing the animal to stop suddenly.
Its front legs raised high in the air and inadvertently kicking sand into the faces of the bowing men.
“Dragon King” Both men chorus in unison.
He says nothing in response, and even when Leo dismounts, coming to stand to his right he remains on his horse staring coldly at the two men bent over at the waist.
Sensing his displeasure from the continued silence, the leader of Rardath speaks first. “We meant to tell you earlier my Lord”
“But, you had trouble recollecting the way to the palace?”
“We did not feel it necessary to inconvenience or displease his majesty with what were merely lies being peddled by Rardath’s men”
“And yet Adarin here we are. I am the exact opposite of convenience and the very image of displeased.”
Neither man dares to raise their head.
He dismounts with the lithe gracefulness of a man half his size. “You both may rise. Now what is this I hear about taking up arms?”
The two men begin speaking at the same time, each proclaiming the other a liar and raising their voices in a competition to be heard.
Words like gollumpus and addle pate flying around from men who looked old enough to be his Father.
It would have been amusing if he wasn’t already in a foul mood.
He raises a fist and they both fall silent immediately. “Rardath”
The shorter hard bred man huffs beneath his fur clothes, beads of sweat running down his thickly corded neck.
“Adarin’s men started it my lord…”
Gods was he addressing children or grown men?
“…they encroached on our fields, forcing us to find other places for our animals to graze, they stained our sheep with dye and made their wool useless, put wormwood in our wells and make the water too bitter to drink and when we would not rise to such childish provocations, they began to steal our sheep and slaughter our horses.”
“We did not!”
Rardath whirls on the paunchy man towering over him who is shaking with so much rage, whatever small skin visible beneath his beard is beetroot red. “If you didn’t then who did? We are the only ones for miles in either direction! ”
“How in all the realms should I know? And you, claiming to be so high and mighty yet you and your gang of ruffians do the exact same things to us”
“Lies! ” Rardath spat, rising to the tip of his toes in an attempt to stare down the other man.
Any more leaping… Midas thought and he’ll be straight up flying
Adarin stuck his pudgy finger in the man’s face. “For all we know, you did it to yourselves. Now you go around setting traps in land that don’t belong to you and now my son lies in bed missing three fingers!”
“Be grateful he still has his hands”
“Why you…”
He has heard enough. “Leo”
The chief Ryder steps forward, hand on his sword. “His majesty wishes me to inform you that the next man who speaks will have neither hand nor fingers to be grateful for and can worry about his dyed sheep from behind the dungeons bars.”
They do not speak again.
He frowns. Both men firmly believed the other to be behind their troubles and yet neither one agrees to accept responsibility.
It was moving beyond strange and into suspicious and Midas meant to get to the root of it.
Just not today
“Have your men stand watch at the border between your two camps, no one crosses without express knowledge of the other.”
He mounts his horse. “I shall have Ryders sent out to join them and bring me daily reports. In the mean time there will be no more acts of violence from either party”
Both men bow low in agreement.
He turned his horse around. “Oh and Rardath, no more steel traps. The people of my kingdom are meant to have five fingers not two.”
Midas rides back home at a slower pace than he left; the formerly high sun beginning a slow descent.
His head is full of the matter between the two clans and mercifully it stops him from thinking about her.
It's getting late and he decides to cut through the capital.
Dragon King or not, riding through the Elder forest at night would be unwise.
Days later, he will ask himself how he knew something was wrong before he even saw the Ryder, galloping towards him from the direction of the castle.
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
He isn’t shouting but the steely coldness in his voice is much worse.
“She went out through the abandoned servants’ door beneath the east tower.”
"And?"
The Ryder trembles before him. "We have scoured the entire city my King. She is not here."
He struggles to keep his voice level, to stop himself from incinerating the guard where he kneels. "Well search harder. She couldn't have gotten far."
The Ryder raises his head and in a quiet voice says. "A little boy says he saw her on the outskirts of town... running towards the Elder Forest."
No. Damn it No.
"How do you know it was her?"
"The boy said she had hair the colour of fire..."
Midas doesn’t wait for the Ryder to finish before yanking the horse hard, turning back and racing towards the dark woods.
He would deal with them later.
He isn’t worried that he won’t find her; he knows he will and when he does…
Heavens help them all.