Cuyler and his men reached the point he wanted to intercept the enemy army, and he ordered his men to hide. They didn’t have to wait much longer. The sun was still starting to show itself in the skies, and the little bastards were already on the way to ruin the life of a whole village, in the name of a man’s greed.
The whole army stopped the minute they saw him, hovering in the air, threatening and deadlier than they could ever know.
Quickly, a small, obese man, riding a horse, approached the front of the marching squad.
“What’s going on here?” he shouted, still oblivious of Cuyler’s presence.
One of his men raised his arm and pointed at Cuyler, clearly shaking.
The man turned around, and when he finally saw Cuyler, all the redness of his cheeks disappeared from his round face. “What the hell…?”
“Good morning, gentlemen. May I know where are you heading this lovely morning?” Cuyler asked, making his voice rumble in the forest that surrounded them.
“It’s a demon from hell…” the man shouted, visibly scared. “Kill him,” he ordered his men, but no one dared to take a step forward. “Archers… attack,” the man tried again, and a few dared to shoot a few arrows in Cuyler’s direction.
He could have left the arrows to rebound in his scales, but he wanted to show them exactly who they were up against.
With a soft breath of fire, he turned the arrows into ashes, causing a collective gasp from the men watching him.
“Let’s try this again, shall we? Where do you think you’re going?” he asked again.
“Get out of our way, demon. You can’t stop us,” the small man shouted.
"I believe I just showed you I could,” he said, in a calm tone. "You have no business here, Lord Bryce, so I advise you to turn around and go back home,”
“I don’t take orders from demons,” the man shouted again, picking the bow and arrow from his back and shooting Cuyler.
This time, he allowed the arrow to bounce on his chest, just to show the man just how fruitless his efforts were.
Cuyler flew a few yards closer to them and asked him again. “Would you like to say that again?”
“Nothing will stop me from getting what I want,” the man ranted again, and his stubbornness helped Cuyler to make his decision.
Flying over the army, he approached the catapults and with too strong breaths of fire, he burned them to the ground reducing them to mere ashes.
In the face of such a display of strength and power, all of Lord Bryce’s men ran away, leaving him behind, trying to control his scared horse.
“You were saying?” Cuyler asked him, landing a few feet away from the man.
“I’ll be back,” he ranted, as he turned his horse away and fled the area.
With a satisfied grin, Cuyler turned to look at his men, coming out of their hideouts.
“You enjoyed that way too much,” Igor teased him.
Cuyler let out a loud laugh, admitting his man’s words.
They returned to the castle, flying really high and only descending when they were already above the north tower. Kaylein was still there waiting for them.
“What happened?” she asked, jumping up when they landed next to her.
"We managed to scare them away, but Lord Bryce seems determined to return. I'm afraid this isn't the last time we'll hear from them,” Cuyler informed her.
“What about the catapults?”
“We destroyed them completely,” he assured her.
She jumped forward and hugged him, too happy and relieved to hide her emotions.
“Thank you… thank you…” she said, in a fervent tone.
Cuyler looked at her, for a moment too astounded with her presence in his arms to react. She was actually hugging him, despite the fact he was still in his full drogon form. With an amazing smile, he hugged her too until she stepped back, a bit blushed, looking shy.
“How are we going to explain this to my father?” she asked, with a frown, trying to ignore the sensations rushing through her body. She had hugged him out of an impulse, but she had never expected to feel the way she did when she wrapped her arms around him.
It had felt so good, so right, so pleasant; she had let him go reluctantly.
“I believe we should keep the truth to ourselves. It might scare your people more than Lord Bryce’s threat,” Cuyler said, cautiously. “Let them find the burned catapults and think whatever they want.”
“But Lord Bryce will come back,” she said, in a weak voice.
“Yes… but we’ll be here to stop him,” he assured her.
“You won’t be here forever,” she pointed out, with a sad tone.
“No, it’s true, but perhaps we can convince your father to name an heir able to defend the village alongside with him,” he said, with a smile.
“He has refused to do that so far,” she said, shaking her head.
“Well, it’s time he faces reality. He has to make a decision,” Cuyler said, in a firm tone. “That’s the only way he’ll keep Lord Bryce and others like him away from your people.”
She nodded. “We should go downstairs and see what’s going on.”
“The guards must have seen the smoke. I’m sure your father has sent someone to investigate,” Cuyler said.
She nodded and waited while, they shifted back to their usual selves and put on their clothes. This time they left the tower with her, going down through the trap door. But she didn’t go downstairs with them. Instead, she waved them goodbye and went towards the family hallway.
There was a huge commotion in the main room. The man Lord Arryn had sent to investigate the smoke had returned, and he was telling them what he had found.
"Yes, milord, I'm sure. Both catapults were completely burned. I was only able to tell those ashes were from the catapults thanks to the way the ashes were piled up because there was nothing left, not even the metal parts,” the man was explaining.
“What could have caused this?” Lord Arryn asked, astounded.
“No idea, milord. But whatever it was, it scared Lord Bryce’s army. There was no one left. I even went to where they had camped last night, and other than the ashes of their fires, there was no one around.”
“Whatever caused the catapults to burn that way must have scared them away, but if you didn’t see any dead man, he'll be back,” Lord Arryn concluded.
“Yes, most probably, but it won’t be today,” Sir Henry concluded.
"Order everyone to return to their homes. We'll keep some men on the three roads that give access to the village so that we can know when they return,” Lord Arryn ordered.
The man nodded and walked away.
"Milord, you know you have to put an end to this man's ambition,” Father Francis said, in a soft tone. "If they had been able to reach the village Lord Bryce's men would have slaughtered us,” he added, twisting his hands nervously.
“And how do you suggest I do that?” Lord Arryn shouted.
"Accept your nephew, James as your heir. After all, he is your younger brother's son,” one of the other men replied, in the priest's place.
"Please, Marcus, he's nothing but a buffoon. He would lose his place in the first battle,” Lord Arryn snarled.
“Then, chose Rufus, your other nephew, you can’t say he’s a buffoon,” Father Francis intervened.
“No, he’s a mercenary. He would probably sell this place to the highest bidder,” Lord Arryn replied.
"I've heard he's looking to buy a place for himself. People say he has made a fortune and now wants to settle down,” Sir Marcus informed.
This time, Lord Arryn couldn’t find words to refute the other man’s words.
“Just think of it. That would kill Bryce’s ambitions, and Rufus’ presence here would keep him and others like him away,” Sir Marcus insisted.
Lord Arryn remained silent for a few moments and Cuyler could see how much the man hated the idea. He wanted a son, not a nephew to take his place, and the idea of accepting a nephew bothered him more than anything.
“I’ll think about it,” he promised and walked away.
Slowly, the room emptied, and the servants went back to their regular activities, though the rumors on what might have happened to the enemy’s army were the conversation topic all over the village.
Lord Arryn left the barricades on, just in case Lord Bryce decided to return all of the sudden.
Though he has waited to see Kaylein at the lunch table, she wasn’t anywhere to be seen, what frustrated him more than he thought possible. He wanted to see her, have her near him.
After lunch, Cuyler decided it was time to have a serious talk with Lord Arryn about the subject that affected him and his men, so he asked him for an audience. The man agreed, looking puzzled, but Cuyler waited until they were alone to discuss what his proposition.
"As I told you when we first arrived here, I intended to make business with you and your people,” he said, looking for the right words.
“Yes, it’s true, though I can’t think of something we have that might interest you,” Lord Arryn said, leaning back in his big chair, in the middle of the main room.
“You see, from where I come from, there are a lot more men than women. So, we have been forced to look for women in other countries,” he started explaining. “We were told we could find women we need in this part of the world, so we’ve sailed here, looking for them.”
An instant frown showed on Lord Arryn’s forehead. “I don’t sell my servants. Training new ones would be too annoying and expensive.”
“I would pay you whatever you asked me. All I need are twenty women,” Cuyler insisted, but Lord Arryn shook his head.
“I can take you to a slave’s market, not far from here, when things here calm down, but I’m afraid I won’t sell you any of my women,” the man replied.
“Why not?” Cuyler persisted.
“Separating them from their families always causes too much of a fuss and I really have no intention of going through all that trouble.”
“It would be just twenty women, and we could compensate their families, to make their loss a bit more bearable,” he suggested.
“It’s not worth the pain, believe me.” The man shook his hand, dismissing it.
“With the money I’m willing to pay, you would be able to hire more soldiers and postpone a decision you don’t want to make,” Cuyler said in an alluring tone.
This seemed to sink deep into the man, and he didn’t reject the idea immediately.
“Just think about it for a few days. We can discuss it then,” Cuyler said, getting up.
Lord Arryn nodded, and Cuyler left the main room to meet his men.
“Well, did you talk to him?” Igor asked him, as soon as he approached them.
“Yes, but this will be harder than we expected. He doesn’t seem anxious to sell his women, even if he could use the gold he would get for them,” Cuyler warned them.
“What will we do if he refuses to sell them to us?” Haskell asked clearly worried.
“Then we’ll have to take them by force. We’re not leaving this place without what we came for,” the king assured them. “I gave him a few days to think about it. He might surprise us.”
His men nodded.
“Let’s hope so,” Igor said.
“Use this time to let your soulmates know you. Find opportunities to be with them, let the magic that unites you do its job, so we won’t have a hard time with them when we have to take them away,” he suggested to his men.
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” Haskell nodded.
“As for those who haven’t found their soulmates, keep looking and try to find the best candidates for us to take back with us,” he ordered before he dismissed them.
“What would make a good candidate, my king?” one of them asked, puzzled.
“One with no family would be perfect, but I’m not sure we’ll find any like that, so just let your instinct choose them.”
His men nodded, and they walked away. Cuyler remained in the castle.
It was time for him to go looking for his own soulmate.