Page 11 of Golden (Fairytales Retold)
THE ATTACK
K aterina and Bartholomew traveled to their home on foot. They lived on the outskirts of the village in a neatly kept cottage with a stable surrounded by towering trees and a tranquil pond. Tabian lingered in the cover of the trees and waited, the musty scent of damp earth clinging to the night air.
Candlelight flickered from the windows, casting long, shifting shadows against the wooden walls. Bartholomew’s heavier frame crossed the window and then disappeared deeper into the cottage. A short while later, Katerina’s slender silhouette paced near the window. Could she sense his presence lurking in the trees? Did she fear that he was coming for her?
He wanted to make sure that Katerina settled in for the night, and then he planned to go and get his horse. He’d bring it back here, slip into the house, get Katerina, and take her back to Verdermere. He had no idea how he was supposed to restrain her. He had no rope, no shackles. And even if he did, what would stop her from turning into a bird and flying away?
If only he had some of the sleeping potion she’d used on him. If he had a cage, then it might be better if she turned herself into a bird. It would be much easier to contain a bird rather than a person. And it wouldn’t arouse any suspicion along the trek back home. However, he would need a fairly large cage. She was the size of a falcon. After retrieving his horse, it might be wise to go into the stable and see if he could find a rope or anything else that could be used to bind her hands … or wings.
He pulled the amulet out of his tunic and absently fingered the smooth stone. A new thought occurred to him. The stone had helped him resist Katerina’s attempt to compel him to obey her orders. Maybe he could use it to make her follow his commands. Hope swelled inside him. It was worth a try. He wished he knew how to make the stone work.
Closing his eyes, he offered a silent prayer to the Great Creator above. Help me to know what to do. I need to save Garrin, but I don’t know how. If this stone can be of benefit, then help me to know how to use it. His eyes grew moist as he squeezed them tighter. Please . He clenched his fists, ending the prayer.
A damp darkness pressed around him, stiffening his body. An owl hooted in the distance, and he heard the soft rustling of forest creatures crawling through the fallen leaves. He was leaning against a tree, hugging his arms to ward off the chill. He would be so glad when this ordeal was over. He longed for his bed at the castle. He let out a yawn, thinking how much he’d like to lie down and get some rest.
More time passed with agonizing slowness. His body ached with the desire to move—to act—but patience was key. When the lights in the cottage finally went out, he stood up straight, all sleepiness dissolving in an instant. He’d watch for a little while longer. If all was quiet, then he’d go get the horse and hurry back.
His breath caught when the front door opened, and Katerina stepped out, wearing a cloak. Her hair gleamed gold in the moonlight as it trailed out behind her. Pulling her cloak tighter around her body, she glanced around as if afraid someone was watching. Where could she possibly be going this time of the night? Was she fleeing? She didn’t have any items with her—no bundle of clothing, no provisions—so he guessed she must be planning on coming back to the cottage.
His first inclination was to start out after her immediately. However, he didn’t want to alert her to his presence, so he waited for several moments. He’d just left the cover of trees when she transformed into a bird and flew away. He could tell from the awkward flap of her right wing that she was injured.
A groan of dismay rose in his throat as she lifted into the sky and vanished beyond the trees. There was no way he could catch her. Maybe he’d go get his horse and double back. Hopefully, she would return to the cottage tonight.
His gaze flickered back to the cottage. Bartholomew. As a last resort, Tabian could use him to draw Katerina out. He didn’t want to go that route. Bartholomew seemed like a good man, and Tabian didn’t want to cause him any harm. However, Tabian was reaching the point of desperation. He couldn’t give up and let Garrin die. Hopefully, Katerina would return to the cottage in the next little while, and Garrin wouldn’t be forced to take drastic measures.
Tabian followed the deserted road back the same way he’d come, his boots pressing a muffled cadence against the dirt. The world was eerily still, and a mist hung in the air. He knew he was nearing the village when he spotted the tips of the roofs from the clusters of buildings. The road curved into a shady section obscured by the light of the moon.
He heard a noise from behind and whirled around. His instincts screamed a warning, but before he could react, something slammed into his back. A heavy force sent him sprawling onto the dirt.
Tabian fought, trying to get up, but the man was too strong. He wrestled with Tabian before pinning him down. Then the man punched him in the jaw. A sharp pain shot through Tabian as his head was thrust back from the force. The man didn’t stop; he pummeled Tabian several more times with such brute force that it rattled his teeth.
Then, the man got off him and stood. Shielding his hands over his face, Tabian looked up. His blood ran cold when the man pulled a dagger from his belt.
Dimly, through the throbbing in his skull, Tabian heard another man. “You know what you have to do,” he said with a grim conviction. “Lilith said he’s not to be left alive.”
Tabian’s fingers wrapped around the stone, desperate and instinctual. Not knowing what else to do, he held it up. To his amazement, the stone began to glow with a white light so bright it was blinding.
The men jumped back in alarm as Tabian stumbled to his feet. He wielded the stone like a shield of protection. A long cylinder of light moved over the man holding the dagger. He yelped and dropped the weapon like he’d been burned. He held up his hands. “P—please,” he trembled.
Tabian turned the stone so that the cylinder grazed the other man’s lower leg. He yelped as he doubled over, clutching his leg. “You burned me,” he cried.
Not wanting to do more damage, Tabian shifted the light away from the man. “Who sent you to attack me?” he demanded. Power from the stone flowed into him, making him stronger than he could imagine. He’d never experienced such clarity of mind, such control.
When neither of the men answered, he held up the amulet. “Do you want another demonstration?”
“Nay,” the man holding his leg whimpered.
“Who sent you?” Tabian yelled.
“Lilith … the enchantress,” the other man croaked.
A heady relief swept through Tabian. Good to hear it wasn’t Katerina.
The light from the stone dimmed and then vanished as quickly as it had come. The power was once again a quiet slumber inside the stone. A quiver of panic pulsed through Tabian, wondering if the men would attack him again. He adopted a bold, ruthless tone. “Get out of my sight before I finish what I started.”
They turned and scampered like vermin into the grove of trees.
Tabian let go of the stone and looked down at it in astonishment. Gratitude swelled inside him. The Great Creator had answered his prayer. The stone had helped him, but he had no idea how he’d managed to summon its power … or if he’d be able to do so again. Trembles ran through Tabian’s hands and continued down to his legs and knees. He took in a halting breath as he gingerly touched his face and then winced. His mouth was bleeding, and his right eye felt swollen. He was lucky to be alive.
An enchantress named Lilith had ordered the attack. She wanted him dead. Why? Was this somehow connected to Katerina? It had to be! How had the enchantress known he was here? Did Katerina tell her? Is that where she went on her late-night errand? The thought of Katerina wanting to harm him was more disturbing than he wanted to admit.
He hurried to get his horse, relieved to find it still tied up at the post. He got on it and headed back to the cottage.
His face was sore and throbbing from pain. Each clop of the horse’s hoofs was torturous. He was halfway back to the cottage when he heard something above. He looked up to see a blur of gold glimmering against the moonlight. It was Katerina. His heart lurched. He wondered again if she had anything to do with the attack. Was she coming back to finish the job?
She made a circle around him before descending to the ground a short distance in front of him.
He slowed his horse and touched the stone for reassurance. While he didn’t relish the idea of using the stone to hurt her, he might not have a choice. Of course, he was assuming he would be able to summon the stone’s powers once again.
She transformed into human form, wearing the same clothing she had on when she left the cottage. “Do you always spend the night roaming the roads?” Before he could answer, she jerked in surprise. “What happened to your face?”
“I was attacked by two men on this very road … just outside of the village.” He watched her carefully for any signs that would indicate she was behind the attack.
Concern tightened her features. “You look awful.”
He grunted. “I feel even worse.”
“Where are you headed?”
He leveled a glare. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
She rocked back, eyes hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why did you leave your cottage and go out in the middle of the night?”
Her voice pitched high. “You were spying on me?”
“Aye. And you sent those men to attack me.”
“I most certainly did not,” she harrumphed, her hand going to her hip.
“You’re in league with the enchantress, Lilith.”
She started blinking fast. “How do you know about her?” She brought a hand up and encircled her neck.
“My attackers told me. The enchantress wants me dead.” His eyes burned into hers. “Why is that?”
She clasped her hands together. “I—I don’t know.”
His voice cracked like a whip through the still air. “Is it because you told her I was planning to take you back to Verdermere to answer for your crimes?”
She began shaking her head back and forth. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Do I?” he barked. “Because from where I’m standing, you certainly look guilty to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” she said softly. Tentatively, she stepped closer. Before he could stop her, she touched the injured corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes pled with his. “I had nothing to do with the attack, I promise.”
Sincerity brimmed in her eyes, but that didn’t mean she was innocent. She was a pretender. A very convincing one. Her touch was light and feathery against his skin—a bit of heaven. Her golden hair framed her face like an angel. Her delicate features might’ve been the crowning achievement of a renowned sculptor. The fire of life in her sapphire eyes. The adorable tip of her nose. Her full, soft lips, which he’d had the pleasure to taste. Everything about her drew him in, just as it had that night in the garden. However, this time, he couldn’t even blame a spell or enchantment. This was all on him. She was a temptation of epic proportion—his own personal siren.
“‘Tis late. Let’s get you to the cottage, and I’ll tend to your wounds. You need to get some rest.” Tenderly, she cupped his cheek.
As much as he enjoyed—even craved—her touch, he forced himself to remove her hand, his words thrusting out in harsh chunks. “I’m taking you back to Verdermere.” He eyed her, daring her to disagree.
Gentle laughter flowed from her lips. “Let’s revisit this discussion tomorrow—after you’re feeling better.”
“Nay. You’ll go with me … one way or the other.” He touched the stone, hoping it would do its work, but nothing happened.
Amusement lit her eyes. “What’s that supposed to do?”
He tightened his hold on the stone, forcing himself to concentrate. Work your magic. Now! His effort yielded nothing, not even the slightest hint of warmth. Disappointment fisted him in a tight hold as he released the stone.
“Are you coming with me or not?” she snipped. “‘Tis late, and I need to get some rest.”
“Where did you go tonight … when you left the cottage?”
Something raw and tortured slipped into her eyes and then disappeared so quickly he wondered if he’d only imagined it. “If you must know, my father sent me on an errand.”
He frowned. “What sort of errand?” The haughty lightness in her voice aroused his suspicion even more. She was trying hard to shut him down, but it wasn’t going to work.
“He thought he left a candle burning in the shop and worried it would start a fire.”
He leaned forward into her personal space. “And he didn’t think to check it before the two of you left the village?”
“Nay, he didn’t,” she answered easily, as if this type of thing happened frequently. She made a point of looking in the direction of the cottage. “I’m going home. Will you join me?”
They weren’t getting anywhere going around and around. Exhaling, he nodded. “Okay, we’ll do this your way.” Seeing her expression of triumph, he threw her a sharp look. “For now.” They started going in that direction.
“We’ll get you cleaned up, and then you can get some rest.” She tossed him a playful grin. “You certainly look like you could use it.”