Princess in Exile

by Bernadette Rowley

  There was a scrape at the door, and she looked up to find Vard staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “Come, Vard,” she said. He moved close to her and she stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “What is the aura you see around that young Lenweri? He isn’t recovering and I haven’t been able to determine what ails him.”

  Vard stared at the patient. “Two auras surround him,” he said. “One is crimson, and the other sickly green.”

  “Infection,” she said, “just like the others.” But how and why? “Never mind, perhaps Lord Leth can be called.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” he said. “He’s leaving for another of his trips today.”

  She frowned. “I’d be much happier if I knew where he went and the purpose of these trips.”

  “We won’t have to worry much longer. I’ll secure our horses and we’ll leave before he returns. It’s the perfect opportunity.” He looked around as if fearful of being overheard. “Meet me in my room and we’ll talk of it.”

  Vard left and Alecia completed her checks on the last patient, washed her hands, and followed him out.

  Vard had packed his belongings by the time Alecia arrived at his chambers. The thought of life on the road sent shivers over the base of her skull. Her pregnancy had survived her shooting, but would it survive living rough? She needed good food, not to be jostled around in a saddle day after day. Unwilling, her hands closed over her belly and then dropped away. She mustn’t draw attention to her swelling abdomen or Vard really would leave her. So far, she had been lucky and crafty enough to conceal the pregnancy, but she had caught Leth’s eyes on her abdomen of late. He suspected her condition, even if Vard did not.

  “Must we run again?” she said, her voice weary.

  “You’re fully recovered, Alecia. As fit as I’ve ever seen you. I’m learning nothing from Leth and the longer we stay the more opportunity we give him to use us.”

  Alecia frowned. She couldn’t disagree with his words but every step they took away from Amitania would be a step toward her life without Vard. “At least here there is still hope that you can master your Defender gifts.

  “Damn it, Alecia, the man has taught me little in two months except frustration. As each day goes by, I come nearer to losing it in his presence. He goads me and says his purpose is to provide provocation so I can master my temper and control the transformation.” He raked his fingers through his hair and Alecia wrapped her arms around herself.

  “I can’t even sleep with you for fear that I’ll transform in my dreams and you’ll be dead before I awake, before you awake! The sorcerer isn’t helping, he’s manipulating us, and I can’t take it any longer.”

  “And so, I’ve no choice but to follow where you lead?” She couldn’t suppress the bitterness she felt.

  Vard’s eyes hardened. “You’re a free woman and can go where you will.”

  They stared at each other in silence for long moments. She noticed a deep fear in his eyes; the same fear that was always there, lurking in the background, but stronger since he had related the story of his cousin’s death. She knew he regretted exposing himself, and two months of life in Amitania hadn’t caused the fear to fade. It was weeks since they had coupled and the distance between them pained her more than she could express. That he could even suggest she’d stay when he left… She dropped her eyes to the crimson runner on the stone floor.

  “It was merely my frustration talking, beloved,” she said. “I’ll prepare for our departure.” Some way must be found for them to renew the love that had brought them together. Perhaps if she told him of their child? No! She would tell him when she had to and not before. She turned to leave.

  “Alecia,” he said, taking two steps toward her. “I know you’ve found a purpose here, but Leth threatens us and I must continue my search for a mentor. Already we’ve stayed too long. Go to your room and pack, and remember we travel lightly.”

  He turned away and she stared at his stiff shoulders, longing to throw her arms around him, to feel his hard length against her soft curves, to hear her name on his lips. She left, not knowing how to bridge the distance between them.

  Chapter 12

  It was dark in the hall when they stepped from her room. Vard’s hand was hot around hers as he led her to the stairs. They descended in silence, both clothed in dark elven breeches and tunics, their weapons slung about them. Vard had ventured out earlier, when most Sis Lenweri had been at dinner, and retrieved their horses. He wouldn’t say if he had injured anyone in the process. Alecia’s days of killing mercenaries seemed far in her past and she had no wish to be associated with murder and killing any more. Perhaps it was the life growing inside that had brought about the change.

  They crept through the dark streets following the path Vard had mapped out after weeks of examining patrol routes. Alecia had wondered how he didn’t go cross-eyed as he studied the convoluted paths the Sis Lenweri patrols used. He swore to her the path they now took was the least frequented route out of Amitania. Her gut froze at the thought of traversing the depths of the forest once they did leave the city’s outskirts. The last two months had done nothing to diminish the sense of foreboding the forest, with its huge trees and thick fog, evoked within her. They’d be crossing at least some of it during darkness.

  But first they must evade the city patrols. As the thought entered her head, Vard dragged her into a doorway just in time to dodge a patrol of six soldiers as they stalked by. Even in the darkness they had a grace to rival Vard’s. Her breath quickened and her heart hammered as the last of the elves disappeared. She sagged against a wooden doorframe, but Vard dragged her back into the alley and on toward the outskirts of Amitania.

  Alecia tried to pry her hand from Vard’s, but he held it like a vice. Already she felt the need to rest. She opened her mouth to ask if they could take a small break but a tall Sis Lenweri appeared on the street in front of them. It was Caele Aloe.

  “The kingdom man and his woman,” Aloe hissed, coming up onto his toes and brandishing a sword. “How fitting you should die this night by my sword, the weapon you helped me master.”

  Vard drew his own sword from its scabbard. “I have no wish to harm you, Aloe. Step aside and let us leave.”

  “I have watched you closely since my release, hiding my anger and need for revenge. I see things the others don’t, even Alen Leth. Your horses are missing from the stable, but I have discovered them.”

  Alecia’s heart lurched anew at the words and her hand came to her mouth to stifle a gasp. What if he had removed the horses?

  Caele Aloe’s eyes latched onto Alecia’s in the dark. “Yes, kingdom wench, you will never find your horses without me. But do not fear. I will dispose of your companion and claim you for my own. I will make a new life with you somewhere far away. There is nothing to keep me in Elvandang.”

  Alecia swallowed and gripped Vard’s sleeve. He gave his head a small shake and she removed her hand. He couldn’t fight with her hanging off his arm.

  “I ask again, Gir Aloe, that you step aside.” Vard’s voice held a ring of command but it fell upon deaf ears.

  Caele Aloe snarled and hurled himself at Vard, their swords clashing. Alecia flung herself out of the way, flattening against the wall behind her, eyes riveted to the scene. The elf was a formidable opponent. He had fought Vard many times over the last month and she had witnessed some of the matches. His skill had steadily increased and now Alecia knew what had driven him. Revenge. A tendril of fear curled around her stomach. He couldn’t best Vard, could he?

  The men moved back and forth, attacking and defending in turns, their movements graceful. The light of mad determination lit Caele Aloe’s elfin eyes, but Vard appeared more frantic as the moments passed. It was as if he was pushing to end the fight quickly, while the elf danced round him, intent on dragging the contest out. As the minutes ticked by, Alecia began to fear discovery. They had everything to lose, while Aloe had already lost everything dear to him. It made for a dan
gerous opponent.

  Vard staggered and went down on one knee. His gleeful challenger squealed as he moved in for the kill, raising his sword for a blow that would have taken Vard’s head from his shoulders. Vard ducked, pivoted and ran his sword through Aloe’s gut, the gleaming metal spearing right through the elf. Aloe’s squeal became a gurgle as he fell forward, and Vard twisted his blade free of the body. He was dead before he hit the ground. Vard stayed where he was, kneeling in the dirt of the alley, his chest rising and falling, the dark no cover for his grim visage.

  They had no time for reflection as footfalls sounded, coming closer.

  Vard pushed himself to his feet, cleaned his sword on Aloe’s tunic and grabbed Alecia’s hand.

  The Sis Lenweri patrol was right behind them and Alecia’s strength had run out. She would have been left behind long ago were it not for Vard. His hand engulfed hers and gave her courage. He pulled them into a narrow passage, a footpath between streets, and turned to face her.

  “We can’t outrun them like this,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. She could see nothing of his expression. “I’ll become the wolf. You must ride, just as you did when fleeing your father’s castle.”

  Her mind flashed back to that night, saw again the gigantic black wolf and remembered the feel of his strong legs beneath her. Could she face that again? They froze as the soldiers pelted past their hideout.

  “Quickly, they’ll soon back track to find us. I must have your answer.”

  She nodded and he handed his bow and arrows to her. She slung them about her person, anything to distract herself from what she was about to witness. Vard closed his eyes and gripped the amber stone at his throat. His outline blurred, swelling and shrinking, as his human limbs and clothes morphed into the body of the wolf. A low growl came from deep in his throat as his golden eyes swiveled to hers. She thought her heart could beat no faster, but she had been wrong. The steady gaze of the wolf pushed it to new limits and her hands closed protectively over her stomach. It couldn’t be good for her babe to know such fear.

  She felt frozen in place and time, but the huge creature whined and shuffled his shoulder against her, and she came out of her trance. Grunting with the effort, she hoisted herself and their weapons onto the broad shoulders of the wolf. They turned to retrace their steps only to find the way blocked by a dozen elven soldiers. They seemed stunned to find a woman astride a creature from nightmare, but their surprise didn’t last long. With a blood-curdling cry, the leader launched himself forward, already raising his short bow, and the others followed.

  Alecia’s body was ripped around as the wolf spun and hurled himself in the opposite direction, the passage barely wide enough to accommodate them. Something sliced past her head and she ducked, sending a fervent prayer to the Goddess to spare her another injury. She didn’t think her body or mind could bear the penetration of sharp metal again. Her knees brushed the stone on one side and she squeezed her legs inward. Vard growled beneath her. More arrows flew past and Alecia crouched even lower, the movement threatening to send her legs into the walls.

  In a bound they were clear of the passage and in a broad street. Vard immediately took another wider passage off the street and threaded his way in a zigzag pattern through the outskirts of Amitania, at a dead run. She lost count of the turns and of the boulders and stones that rose up at them out of the darkness. She prayed for salvation and thanked the Goddess for Vard’s night vision.

  With a last bound, the enormous black wolf cleared a fallen column, that had once been part of the wall of Amitania, and sped right along the fortification. Alecia’s tired mind puzzled over how the wolf still knew where to find the horses. Or did he? And even if they found the hiding spot, would the horses still be there? She twisted her fingers in his pelt in frustration and fear, and the creature whined.

  “I’m sorry, my fine steed. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered, her body crouched over his shoulder. His fierce eye flicked toward her.

  Before long, they turned left into the forest, and Alecia scanned the passing trees, expecting ambush. If Caele Aloe had acted alone, they might be safe for now. Even without horses, Vard could carry her to safety as the wolf. Or could he? How long could he remain the wolf? Hadn’t he said there were risks in transformation? What would she do if he became trapped in that form? As the thought slammed into her mind, her mount slowed to a trot and took a narrow track into the forest. Moments later a clearing with two saddled horses came into view.

  Alecia had only seconds to feel relief before both horses screamed and pulled back on their tethers, eyes rolling wildly. She slid from the wolf’s back and flung herself at the horses. They couldn’t afford to lose their mounts. She had only taken two steps before she was hauled backward out of the clearing, the wolf’s jaws tugging on her cloak. In the end she fell onto her back and the wolf planted a huge paw on her chest and licked her face. His hot breath caressed her cheek and she froze, not understanding what was happening.

  Vulnerable under the mass of hard sinew and muscle, she locked eyes with the creature. It took her breath away. Her heart thudded anew and her mouth lost all moisture. This wasn’t Vard. He had only the most tenuous hold over the beast. She saw herself through the blazing eyes of the monster that stood over her, a weak pathetic thing who couldn’t withstand the raw power of its savage canines. She saw in his steady gaze her very death and closed her eyes to await the pain of those teeth in her throat. Vard had been right all along, his gift would be the death of her. Her heart broke at the memory of the child he’d never know and the guilt he would carry for eternity.

  But nothing happened. The weight on her chest vanished and Alecia squinted through one eye. It was too dark to see anything. She opened both eyes. Vard was a black shape several paces along the track, a splotch of dark hair, long limbs and white teeth that slowly resolved into a man – her man. She heaved a huge sigh of relief. It wasn’t her time. She held her position until she was sure the transformation was complete, then slowly rose to her feet.

  “I’ve scared you,” he said, his voice full of disgust. “What did I do? Are you hurt?”

  “Can’t you remember?”

  “We were running with arrows buzzing past our ears.” He stared at her with odd intensity. “You must never trust the transformation, Alecia. I remember staring into your eyes and thinking… feeling… Just never trust me in that form.”

  Alecia gazed at his face; a wolfish look lingered in his eyes. She shivered. He didn’t trust himself, perhaps would never trust, no matter how much he learned of his talent.

  “We must check the horses. They were spooked by your. . . form.” She turned and walked back up the track to the clearing, approaching Swift and stroking his quivering shoulder. Her horse was in better shape. The poor animal was too stupid and slow to know real danger when it presented itself.

  “Thank the Goddess that Aloe lied about removing our horses,” Alecia said, and then a thought occurred. “Or were they moved and you found them by scent?”

  Vard crossed the clearing, a wary look in his eye. “This is where I left them.” He studied her as she checked the girths and arrayed the weapons on the saddles. “What did I do that scared you?”

  She averted her gaze. “Nothing, Vard. I wasn’t scared, or no more than usual. Now hush and mount. We have a long way to travel and enemies behind us.” So saying, she swung into the saddle. He stared for a while longer, a frown on his face, then followed her lead. They took another narrow track out of the clearing, traveling southeast.

  Chapter 13

  Vard awoke in the dim grayness just before dawn, his limbs and mind weary with a fatigue he rarely felt. His rest hadn’t been sound, and echoes of his nightmares returned to haunt him. At least he thought they were nightmares. It was difficult to sort dreams from the recollections he retained from the transformation. A flash of a blonde woman beneath him, eyes closed, his paw on her chest, seared his mind. It felt real. Had he stood over Alecia like that, re
garding her as prey, salivating at the thought of warm flesh in his stomach? Fear gripped his heart and he sat up. She had made her bed across the campfire. Even as he watched, she tossed and muttered in her sleep.

  He sighed and leaned back against a rock. Alecia had been withdrawn since the end of their flight from the Sis Lenweri. Something had changed for her, and despite what she said, she had been afraid. Of me. Had she finally seen she was in real danger if she stayed? Would he wake one morning to find her gone and spend the rest of his days wondering if she was dead or alive? Not long ago he would have said Alecia would only leave him when the sun stopped rising, but after the last two months he wasn’t so sure. She had retreated from him.

  He rose and placed more wood on the fire, before fetching water from the nearby stream for porridge and tea. As he placed the pot on the fire, Alecia stirred.

  “Good morning,” she said, pushing herself upright.

  The fastenings of her tunic had unraveled during the night and Vard caught a flash of white breast that peeked through the sagging fabric. His loins tightened in desire and he dragged his gaze to her face. The look of fear was still there, but it did little to quell the desire he felt, heightened as it was by weeks of deprivation. He crossed to her and knelt, one hand reaching for her face. Despite the fear in her gaze, she turned her cheek into his palm and kissed the calluses there.

  Hot desire flooded him and he looped his other arm around her to draw her body to his. He must feel those lips on his skin, must feel alive as only Alecia made him feel. He could control the transformation; he must, because he could no longer keep her at arm’s length.

  She stiffened in his arms, but his lips claimed hers, forcing them apart and thrusting his tongue to explore the soft warm spaces in her mouth. His hand dropped to her breast, frustrated with the tunic that barred his touch. The fastenings came loose, and she moaned as his fingers caressed hard nipples, her hips arching toward his. Goddess, she was so beautiful, lush and ripe and ready. And he needed her as he never had before. The weeks of deprivation and frustration surged up to overwhelm him and he laid her back and tore the remaining tunic from her body, pulled the breeches from her hips, and stroked the wetness between her legs. She moaned again and arched her hips, as eager as he for the coupling.