“So how are you?” the hypnotist asked cautiously.

"Fine.” Naydra grumbled without even glancing at him.

“Oh good,” The hypnotist replied, “then I’m sure you won’t mind if I cancel our appointment. I tee-off in half an hour!”

“What!” Naydra exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and allowing her arms to loosen. “You can’t be serious!” The hypnotist chuckled a bit. “Of course not, I just felt that one good lie deserved another."

“Touche.” Naydra sighed, settling back into the couch. She was a bit more relaxed now, but still not ready to cheerfully admit her vulnerability. Fortunately the hypnotist was used to this from her. “You’re having those dreams again aren’t you?” He offered. “The dreams where you are a mercenary for the lord of Castle Kensmark.”

Naydra nodded hesitantly. “For three nights now. They’ve been very intense. I wake up and my heart is pounding and my head is exploding. Something really bad happens to me in this dream.” There was a brief pause before her final admission. “It’s scaring me.”

“Then let’s fix it.” The hypnotist said encouragingly as he reached for his crystal. Naydra did her best to relax in preparation for what was coming. She felt annoyed with herself for getting so worked up over a dream. And yet, there was no denying that hypnosis had helped her in this area before. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something really, really awful was going to happen.

She closed her eyes. A deep breath, a minute or two of what felt like floating, and Naydra was in a deep trance. She opened her eyes and gazed on a sight that seemed strangely familiar, almost home-like. A warm, evening breeze blew softly around her.

“Where are you?” A gentle voice in her head asked. Naydra recalled conversing with this spirit before, and wasn’t the least bit alarmed by its presence. “In the courtyard of Castle Kensmark.” She answered. “My lord’s bedchamber is up there. He is always in his room at this time. He says it is the one time he can be alone with his thoughts.”

“Why are you here?” The spirit asked. Naydra stiffened a bit at the question. “To make sure that all is well of course. Why else would I be here?” The spirit seemed to sense the defensive tone in her voice, and responded with a question of its own. “What did you do today Naydra?”

“I accompanied the king on the hunt.” She answered. Our guide’s horse went lame. He asked the king to return with him, but he refused. It was...” The thought came hesitantly, “It was the first time his highness and I had been alone.”

“Tell me more.” The spirt asked. Normally Naydra was very tight lipped about her lord’s doings, but this time she wanted to talk. As she did, a pleasant, warm feeling stirred in her heart. “We rode for hours.” She said. “We caught nothing, but neither of us minded. After the noon hour, we paused on a hillock and gazed back at the castle. It seemed very far away, and for a minute, standing there with him, I felt free, truly free.” This last thought made Naydra feel ashamed. “Then we returned.” Naydra hoped the spirit would not question her further about this, yet some how she knew it would.

“Why does it disturb you to talk about this?” The spirit inquired. “You have feelings, just like everyone else. Why should you...”

“He is my lord!” Naydra shot back with an intensity that almost became audible. “My duty is to defend his life and his rule. I cannot entertain thoughts that might distract from my role as a soldier.”

“But you are a woman too.” The spirit added gently. “Is that less important than being a soldier?’

“Enough spirit!” Naydra growled, “You do not understand, and I grow weary of trying to explain. Someday he will marry for the good of the state. That is his duty. My duty is to serve him with my blade until the end of my days. We will discuss this no more.” At this, Naydra turned sharply and strode back towards the castle. Rather than endure the hoots and propositions of the doorkeeper (who was almost certainly very drunk by now), she circled around to the rear. The kitchen would almost certainly be unlocked, as the serving staff would be hauling scraps to the rubbish heap. She briefly wondered if she should get something to eat, but quickly decided that she needed rest more than anything else.

Naydra’s mind was still turning as she entered the darkened kitchen. Part of her was angry at the spirit for asking its troubling questions. Part of her was angry at herself for being troubled by the spirit’s questions. Both parts were more interested in thinking about the king, particularly how strong and self-assured he looked when he was astride his steed. That thought didn’t make her angry at all.

Then a loud thump brought Naydra out of her thoughts. She froze, her hand instinctively grasping the hilt of her sword. “What’s wrong?” The spirit asked. Naydra’s mind hissed at the intrusive phantom. Now was not the time for her to be distracted.

As Naydra’s eyes swept the room, a soft moan made itself heard behind her. Glancing around, she saw the scullery maid sitting next to the door to the larder, securely bound and gagged! In the dim light, Naydra could read in the girl’s terrified face that her assailants were still nearby.

As Naydra drew her sword, the varlets burst in. There were three of them, all well dressed for commoners, and holding their swords with confidence and purpose. These were no mere street rabble, these were professional mercenaries like herself. Naydra gripped her sword tightly. This would be a hard fight. Her one hope would be to make enough noise for the guards to hear her, and either assist her in the fray or else avenge her death!

With a loud cry Naydra heaved herself at the assassins. Her first attack was parried by the lead man, as his cohorts spread out to flank her. As she could not block three swords at once, Naydra stepped back to giver herself room to dodge. The lead man took a swing himself. Naydra deflected this blow, then launched a riposte that punctured the man’s left shoulder. He pulled himself away from the melee with a loud cry and grimace of pain.

Naydra had no time to celebrate her victory though. She turned her blade and blocked a swing from the man on her right while narrowly dodging a slash from the left. With a mighty push against their locked blades she sent the man she had blocked back a step. With this modicum of space she sought to throw herself on the other attacker. Unfortunately, the tight quarters if the kitchen did not allow her the room she needed. As she turned and advanced on the man, she tripped over a soup bone the villain had tossed on the floor at her feet.

Naydra’s balance was offset for only a second, but it was enough. The two fiends on either side of her grabbed hold of her, while the third twisted her sword arm until the blade dropped to the floor. Naydra once again made a shout for the guards, only to have her cry cut short by a gag the men tied tightly around her mouth.

As Naydra struggled fiercely, her assailants forced her to the floor and securely bound her hands and feet. Looking up, she saw the leader of the group, holding a blood soaked rag against the wound in his shoulder. The man who had tied her legs then raised a dagger over her heart, but the leader stopped him. He motioned his cronies to lift her onto the cutting table. He meant to have revenge for his injury, slow, painful revenge!

“What’s going on?” The spirit asked frantically as the mercenaries placed her on the table and tied her in such a way to keep her from struggling.

“Assassins!” Naydra thought back. “The conspiracy against my lord was not broken. They have sneaked into the castle and overpowered me!”

“What are they doing now?” From the sound of the spirit’s voice, it seemed to be sharing Naydra’s terror.

“The blighters have me restrained! One of them is leering at me. He is holding the cook’s cleaver over my leg. Heaven preserve me, the beast means to have my leg!” Naydra twisted and pulled at her bonds in a near state of panic. Her screams for help barely sounded through the gag. “He is raising the cleaver! He is holding it to see if I will beg him for mercy! Spirit, I have only seconds before he bring the blade down on my leg!”

“Wait!” The spirit gasped. “I, uh, hear some one coming!”

“You dream spirit.” Naydra answered. “The assassins have doubtlessly bought off the guard who patrols this area. That is why he did not come to my aid. No one is coming to help me!”

“Yes, some one is coming! Please try Naydra, try and hear him coming!” Despite the oddness of the spirit’s request, Naydra strained her ears to hear. Yes, some one was coming! Lifting her head as much as she could, Naydra saw the king and his loyal guards enter the kitchen.

“You speak true spirit, my rescuer has come.” The assassins quickly forgot Naydra and made a desperate advance towards the king. As the guards surrounded the fiends, the king raised his sword and felled the leader of the assassins with a single slash. Then he joined his retainers in cutting the other assassins down. The battle was short, and soon the king was standing victorious.

“We have won spirit.” Naydra announced excitedly. “The assassins have fallen.” As the guards went to free the scullery maid and clear away the bodies of the felled mercenaries, the king turned his attention to Naydra. Putting his bloodstained sword aside, he hastily approached her.

“What is happening now Naydra?” The spirit asked. “You’re breathing fast and hard again.”

“He is coming over to me, my rescuer. There is concern on his handsome face. He has pulled the gag from my lips. He is asking me if I am injured. His eyes, so powerful, yet caring and warm. My plight has worried him. I can barely whisper to him that now I am fine. He is untying the ropes on my wrists. He did not order some one else to do it. He wants to save me! My wrists are free. I cannot help myself. I am throwing my arms about his neck. He is accepting my embrace. His arms are so strong. I am turning to face him, his lips are drawing towards mine! Spirit, tell me that ths isn’t a dream!”

Naydra’s eyes opened with a start. It took several seconds before she realized where she was. Her heart was pounding and her hands were trembling, but clearly not from fear.

“I’m sorry.” She heard the hypnotist say gravely. Naydra turned to him, and needed to think for a bit before she could remember who he was and what he had been doing. “Huh?” she finally managed to mumble.

“I know that your sessions are about empowerment,” He confessed ruefully, “but I’ve never seen a situation like this before. You were trembling, breathing heavily, sweating, it was like you were having a panic attack while you were in your trance. I was afraid that if we didn’t resolve the dream quickly it might be dangerous for you. I couldn’t think of a way to help you save yourself, so I had some one come in and rescue you. Again, I am sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Naydra said quickly. “Really, it turned out great.” She sighed softly as a familiar, warm feeling glowed in her heart. “Really, really great.”

Story by David