FOREVER KNIGHTS: #7 King of Assassins -
ALAZAR - To a Tavern of All Places!
“Of all places she’d ask me to take her. To a tavern. A run-down, vermin infested, urine soaked…Tavern. Hell of a place for the Princess of Nightway.”
“Of course, I’m taking her! Who in the Hell else would I allow take her?”
-Alazareth told Sebastian of his vow to Riaura.
NIGHTWAY (Together for a year)
ALAZAR
True to his word, Alazareth awaited Riaura under the cover of darkness. Just beyond Nightway’s Bailey. Riaura met him, wearing her fine blue cloak. Alazareth in his thick brown fur.
She dismounted from her brown mare.
Ingenious she calls the thing. He watched it warily. Leaning from its reach as it stretched its neck to snap square teeth toward his elbow. Nearly catching his tunic. Wench is more appropriate.
“Are you ever going to replace that thing?”
It’s not a real horse. It’s feral.
“Are you ever going to replace Erstwhile Knight?” She gestured to the big roan he was mounted on.
No!
“He has personality.”
“So, does Ingenious.”
“She most certainly does not!”
Vicious is not a personality.
“Sure, she does.” Dismounting she fondly caressed the horse’s snout. “Hers just happens to not like yours.”
“Even Knight doesn’t want her. He can sense the evil in her, Ri.”
“She’s not evil.” Riaura gave her a quick hug before tying her to a tree in the little grove, where they’d agreed to meet. “She’s just decisive.”
Decisively evil.
“Yea. She decisively hates anything with a stem.”
“Perhaps for good reason. She looks after me.” Riaura grinned at him.
He snorted and offered her a hand.
Taking it, she let him pull her up behind him. Gripping his thick shoulders to wiggle into place.
“Why do you never use a saddle?” She worked her hips down over the sharp heap of the horse’s flank. Unknowingly pressing her breasts more firmly against Alazar’s back.
He stifled a groan. “I find discomforting my horse so I can better handle my seat, would just prove I’m not man enough to ride him.”
“So, you think one who uses a saddle less a man than you?”
“Less a rider, probably.” He nodded. Lips tight, sensing she probed for an argument.
“Well, with my legs spread over his back and no saddle to cushion I can tell you I find I’m less a man than you.” She laughed. Leaning over his shoulder to give him an annoyed look.
He tried not to consider the thoughts just elicited. Through the darkness, he saw the tipped thatch roofs and the faint glow of the torches. He caught the wafting aromas of the boiled and baked foods.
NightVille Village.
Bull’s Eye Tavern, NightVille, Nightway
“We’re just about to NightVille.” He reassured.
“How do you know? I can see nothing.”
“The torches are there. You’ll see them better over the next rise.”
“Why does it seem you can see so much better in the dark than anyone else?”
My senses are more honed.
He shrugged. “Good night vision.”
“And day vision. And hearing. And smell. Does that all come with being the wolf?”
“Part and parcel I suppose.”
The village was silent as they drew past quiet streets.
They arrived before the small wooden building. Complete with a sign hanging in the wind depicting the profile of a Bull.
They dismounted together. Walking Knight to the stables in back. Then returning out front as snow began to fall. Fat flakes trailing softly around them.
“Well, My Lady. Only the best for you…Welcome to the Bull’s Eye.”
“It looks wonderfully dreadful!” She squealed. Hopping and clapping. Her blonde hair bouncing.
“Good news!” He declared with feigned enthusiasm. “It’s worse inside!”
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