WYVERN by Grace Draven Page A

the cliffs twice now. I'll be fine." She stared at him, swallowing hard to hold back tears. "I love you. Be safe."
    Alaric crushed her to him, kissed her as if he would draw her soul from her body and hoard it as he did his treasure. When they came up for air, his gray eyes were turbulent. The flush of passion graced his cheekbones. "Keep faith, Beth," he commanded in an unyielding voice. "Nothing will stop me from returning to you this time. Do you understand? Nothing."

    * * * *
    She almost fell off the cliffs twice. The tears she'd held at bay when saying good-bye to Alaric, refused to be squelched any longer. He'd promised to return, and she believed him. But it didn't make their parting any easier. Elsbeth smeared the tears on her cheek and admonished herself.
    "Foolish watering pot. No better than Anya Smith who cries over a broken fingernail."
    Her self-reproach did the trick, and the tears dried. She smiled. Anya might be the silliest, most empty-headed twit in all of Byder county, but she at least had the sense to watch where she was going. Elsbeth slowed her descent down the main cliff path.
    The sun was near its midday climb. The heat was stifling, relieved only by a slightly cooler breeze from the north. Elsbeth paused to enjoy its touch. Suddenly, she heard voices, familiar ones carried on the same breeze. She looked around for a place to hide and spotted a cleft in the rocks, one that offered an overhang by which she could view her fellow travelers without being seen.
    Her heart jumped a beat, then sped up when she saw Malcolm trudging up the path, followed by his two toadies, Galen Horn and Jamie Knowles. They were heavily armed, weighted down with hand axes, sickles, crossbows, and quivers bristling with quarrels.
    Elsbeth stifled an outraged gasp as they drew closer. All three sported pieces of Angus's dragon armor. They'd stolen Angus's prized armor! She kept still in her hiding place, but the desire to march out there and confront them was almost overpowering. How did they get the armor? And were Angus and Ireni all right? Such desire was tempered by fear and acknowledgement of her position. She was a woman alone on the cliffs. Matched against three armed men, there was no contest. Elsbeth shuddered to think what they'd do to her if they found her.
    She leaned farther out on the ledge, hoping to hear more clearly what they said to each other. Malcolm cursed Galen, admonishing him. His words made her blanch.
    "Keep quiet. We'll light one torch and keep one close at hand. If we trap it in a small cave, it won't have room to fight. A dozen poison arrows will take any beast down, even one that big."
    Dear gods, they'd come to kill Alaric. Her stomach plummeted to her feet.
    Galen, a ferret of a man who feared his own shadow unless accompanied by a bully like Malcolm, spoke. "What if it breathes fire on us?" His voice shook.
    "Hide behind that bit of dragon scale you took off old Angus's armor. And stay out of the way."
    Jamie, far more intelligent than Galen but as easily led, gave Malcolm a sly look. "What about Elsbeth?"
    Elsbeth recoiled in disgust at Malcolm's lecherous smile. "The beast has probably eaten her by now. I know I would have. Nice bit o' tart that one, but never learned her place."
    "What if she's alive?"
    "Then I'll teach her to mind that disrespectful tongue by shoving my cock in her mouth. No hunched old crone to protect her here in Maldoza."
    The image his words elicited made Elsbeth want to vomit.
    Galen licked his lips. "I'd like a go at her myself. All that nice red hair. I wonder if her cunt hair is the same color?"
    He screeched when Malcolm suddenly rounded on him, a deadly skinning knife in his hand. "I'll be feeding you your own bollocks if you so much as touch her, Galen. I'll share the treasure, but the Weaver woman is mine." He turned to Jamie. "Same goes for you."
    Jamie held up his hands in surrender. "Yours for the taking, mate. I don't like redheads."
    Elsbeth, sick to her