Kwin

by Trudie Collins

  Kwin

  Trudie Collins

  Copyright © 2018 Trudie Collins

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Kwin

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

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  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my son. I am so proud of you

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to Pete, Tony, Julie Wendy and Terry .......for their feedback and support

  Chapter 1

  Gareth drained his tankard and placed it on the wooden table. He had no idea how many he had already imbibed, but he was beginning to feel the effects. Tomorrow was going to be a big day so he should really start to think about going to his room. Then his eyes fell on Sofina once more and he wondered if he would end up in her room instead. The way she had been looking at him all evening suggested there was a definite possibility.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a strong hand gripping his shoulder. He looked up into the face of Kwin, his commander, best friend and the husband-to-be.

  “I’m leaving,” Kwin said, though his voice sounded a bit slurry to Gareth’s ears. “I’m not sure I’m going to be sober enough to get married in the morning otherwise.”

  Gareth grinned at him. “Need some help getting up the stairs?”

  Kwin shook his head. “I’ll manage. Don’t you stay up drinking late either. You have a big part to play in the ceremonies tomorrow.”

  Gareth glanced at Sofina before replying. “I don’t know about drinking, but if I play my cards right I am hoping that part of me will be staying up late tonight.”

  Kwin saw where Gareth’s eyes had gone and smirked. “Have fun. Just make sure I don’t have to drag your sorry arse out of bed in the morning.”

  Gareth watched as his friend made his way to the stairs, holding onto tables and chairs as he passed to keep himself on his feet. He was a tall man, easily half a foot taller than Gareth, but less bulky. Despite his drunkenness, his bearing easily marked him as a soldier, the scar down the left side of his face indicating that he had seen some action. Most people knew him as Commander Longbow, but to those who served under him, he was simply Kwin.

  Gareth’s mind drifted back to the day Kwin had received the letter informing him that a marriage had been arranged between him and Lady Shona Flint. Kwin had not been happy. While arranged marriages were commonplace for members of the royal family, as second-cousin to the king, everyone in Kwin’s unit thought he was far enough removed from the crown to avoid such a fate, Kwin included.

  The groom had yet to meet the bride. He had been introduced to her father once, but as the family lived a few hours east of where Kwin was stationed, Kwin and Shona’s paths had never crossed.

  While Gareth was looking forward to meeting Lady Shona the following day, who was reported to be a great beauty, Kwin appeared to show no interest in doing so. He was dedicated to his job and being saddled with a wife was an inconvenience he could do without. He would go ahead with the wedding, however, as it was his duty. He loved his country and would do whatever the king required of him.

  Which was why Gareth and a few other members of the Western battalion were now in the inn, celebrating Kwin’s last night of freedom.

  Gareth returned his attention to Sofina. The barmaid had been giving him the eye all evening. She was serving more ale to some of his fellow soldiers and when one of them grabbed her behind and gave one cheek a squeeze, he stood up to intervene. Before he could cross the room, however, Sofina had dealt with the matter herself by slapping the offender hard across the face. Gareth winced. Personal experience told him how much that had probably hurt.

  Sofina was rubbing her hand as she walked up to his table. “Can I get you another?” she asked. Gareth shook his head. The king had paid the inn enough money to keep those celebrating the next day’s big event lubricated for a week, let alone a night, but Kwin had been right; if he wanted to be of any use to his friend in the morning, he shouldn’t have any more.

  “I saw what happened. Let me know if you want me to speak to them. How’s the hand?” he asked.

  Sofina smiled at him and he couldn’t stop his gaze from travelling down from her face to her ample bosom, which was trying to escape her bodice. He was sure it had been fully laced at the start of the evening, but now it was partially undone.

  “I’ll be fine. Nothing I’m not used to. Just men who have had a little too much to drink wanting more fun than is on offer.”

  “Let me take a look.” He held out his hand and he couldn’t help smiling as she placed hers in it. He looked at it closely. While it was red, there appeared to be no damage. He gently stroked her palm. “Does this hurt?”

  She shivered as he caressed her hand, but he didn’t believe it was from pain or fright. “No,” she said. Her voice was slightly shaking.

  Gareth stopped touching her, but didn’t release her hand. “I didn’t say stop,” she said.

  Grinning like a schoolboy, he turned her hand over, drew it up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “When do you finish work?”

  “Once everyone has gone to their beds.”

  Gareth glanced around the room. All of the locals had left hours ago and Kwin’s soldiers were the only patrons left. “Excuse me a moment,” he said to Sofina and stood up. She watched as he approached the first group.

  “Time to head upstairs boys and girls,” he said. As Kwin’s second-in-command, his suggestion would be obeyed. All of the soldiers Kwin had brought with him were staying at the inn. Pallets had been laid down in a number of the rooms to accommodate everyone. Gareth was supposed to be sleeping in the other bed in Kwin’s room, but he had no intention of doing so.

  Kwin had brought more of his company with him than he would have done, under other circumstances. The king himself would be attending the wedding, along with the royal family, and Kwin didn’t want to take any chances. Wayvern raiding parties were rare in this part of the county, but they still appeared occasionally and Kwin wanted to ensure the royal family was as well protected as possible. He would have brought his entire company with him if it had not left the west under-defended. The king would have his own guards with him, but Kwin trusted the Western battalion more than soldiers he didn’t know.

  Gareth made his way from table to table, chatting with his friends, giving them all the same advice. Soon the tap-room was empty.

  “Good night Sofina,” he said as he passed her, heading toward the stairs. He was hoping she would stop
him and he wasn’t disappointed.

  “Wait while I tidy up,” she said, grabbing his arm.

  He sat at a table and watched as she picked up empty tankards and took them into the kitchen before wiping down the tables with a damp cloth. When she had finished, she took hold of his hand and led him to the back of the inn, where her room was situated.

  They were all over each other the moment her door closed.

  Chapter 2

  Gareth was woken by frantic banging on the bedroom door. Beside him, Sofina stirred.

  “Gareth, get up now,” he heard Kwin’s voice yell through the wooden door. He glanced over at the window. The shutters were still open, but the expected sunlight wasn’t shining into the room. It was still the middle of the night.

  “Hold on,” he called out. He slipped out of the bed and put his trousers on, not bothering with underwear; he wasn’t planning on staying dressed for long. He would deal with Kwin then go back to bed. As Sofina was awake, he planned on not going to sleep for a while.

  “What is it?” she murmured as she rolled over to look at him.

  “I don’t know. I’ll find out then come straight back to bed.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before striding over to the door.

  Kwin may be his commander, but that would not stop Gareth yelling at him for waking him up. He pulled open the door, but the look on Kwin’s face stopped his words before they could leave his mouth.

  Kwin stood before him in full battle gear; the only things missing were his weapons. All thoughts of sleep or more fun activities left Gareth’s mind. “What’s happened?”

  “There’s been a raid.”

  Gareth didn’t need to hear anything more. Leaving the door open, he walked back over to the bed and stroked Sofina’s cheek. “I’m sorry but I have to go.” He kissed her lips tenderly then picked up his remaining clothes before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

  “Where?” he asked as he and Kwin made their way to the room they were supposed to have been sharing. He had been expecting Kwin to say one of the nearby villages, as such places were the usual target of Wayvern raiding parties due to their lack of defences, but the words that came out of Kwin’s mouth made Gareth stop in his tracks.

  “Lord Flint’s estate.”

  “The king? The royal family?”

  There was no emotion in Kwin’s voice when he answered. The soldier stood before Gareth, not the man. “I don’t know. The only information I have is that a young stable lad managed to escape, grabbed a horse and rode here as fast as he could.”

  Gareth turned away and resumed walking. He needed to get changed as quickly as possible.

  All of the soldiers who had accompanied Gareth and Kwin for the wedding were in the courtyard when Gareth arrived, mounted and fully armed. Kwin handed Gareth his weapons then gave the order to move out.

  The inn was a fair few leagues from Lord Flint’s estate, so the soldiers alternated between cantering and trotting. It took them nearly an hour to get there, but pushing their horses any faster would have risked exhausting them. They had no idea what they were going to find when they got there, or what they would need to do, so preserving their horses was of paramount importance.

  Initially Gareth thought that there was no sign of any of the king’s guards as they entered the estate, then he saw the bodies. Kwin signalled for two of his soldiers to remain behind and check for signs of life while the rest increased their pace, galloping down the driveway and skidding to a halt when they reached the front door.

  Nobody came out to greet them.

  “Search the house,” Kwin said, loudly enough for his soldiers to hear him but hopefully not the enemy, if any were still inside the house. “The king is the priority. Find and protect him. Kill anyone who gets in your way, regardless of skin colour.”

  The slight blue tinge to the skin that all the people from Wayvern had would not be easily discernible in the dark and Gareth understood that Kwin didn’t want to take any chances. He would rather innocent people died than the enemy get away. The soldiers would be careful. They were experienced fighters and would not harm anyone they knew was not from Wayvern.

  Half of the soldiers went around the back while the rest followed Kwin and Gareth into the mansion, through the front door. A few lamps were lit, casting long shadows, and it was eerily quiet. The sun would be rising soon so the sounds of servants going about their business should have reached their ears.

  Gareth motioned with his head that some of the soldiers should search the ground floor, while he and Kwin slowly climbed the grand staircase, swords drawn, ready for a fight. Two of the female members of the Western battalion went with them and Gareth nodded his approval. If the king’s family were still alive they would be less scared when armed women burst in on them than armed men.

  They moved quietly, not wishing to alert their enemy to their presence, should any still be alive. When he heard a noise, Gareth held up his hand, stopping everyone who was following him. He and Kwin both listened carefully, trying to ascertain what the noise was and where it was coming from.

  At Kwin’s signal, the soldiers started moving once more, some peeling off to the right when they reached the top of the staircase, others moving to the left.

  When Gareth heard a raised voice, he and Kwin headed toward it. It was a voice they both recognised. They burst through the door, swords raised, startling all those inside.

  “What in Hellan’s name are you doing here Kwin?” King Tarkel yelled out.

  Kwin and Gareth instantly dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

  “Get up,” the king shouted, obviously not in the mood for protocol being followed.

  “We came as soon as we heard about the raid,” Kwin said as he rose. He quickly explained about the stable hand. “What is the situation?”

  While Kwin spoke, Gareth surveyed the room. He was concerned that there were no guards present.

  “They took us by surprise,” the king said. “I have no idea how they entered the estate. I can only assume that my guards are dead.”

  Gareth looked the king up and down. Dressed in lightweight trousers and a tunic that looked to have been put on in a hurry, he was still a commanding presence. Before taking the throne, he had been a soldier and continued to train whenever he could, keeping himself fit and muscular. A red stain on one arm of his tunic suggested that he had not left the fighting to his guards. His shoulder length hair was dishevelled; he hadn’t bothered to tie it back into his customary ponytail.

  Gareth glanced to the man King Tarkel had been shouting at. He was quivering in the corner and it took him a moment to realise it was Lord Flint. He forced his attention back to what King Tarkel was saying.

  “They have taken most of the servants and a few of my guards that they managed to knock unconscious instead of kill.”

  “Your family?” Kwin asked. Gareth could hear the concern in his voice. Kwin may only be a distant relative of the king, but was still of royal blood so it was his own kin he was asking about.

  “The queen and children are all safe.” Gareth heard Kwin breathe a sigh of relief, but there was an edge to the king’s voice that suggested there was something he wasn’t saying.

  “What are my orders sire?” Kwin asked. “I have less than twenty members of the Western battalion with me but they are at your disposal. They are currently searching the house and grounds in case any of the enemy remain.”

  “There are none left alive, I can assure you of that.” King Tarkel spoke with grim determination. “Have your men stationed for guard duty. A messenger has been sent to the nearest garrison, but reinforcements will not arrive for a while.”

  Kwin nodded his head then he and Gareth bowed before heading for the door. Their departure was interrupted by Lord Flint calling after them.

  “They’ve taken Shona. You have to go after them.”

  That explained what the shouting had been about. Lord Flint was putting his daughter’s life ahea
d of the king’s, a move the king would not have taken too kindly to.

  Gareth held his breath as Kwin turned and approached Lord Flint. If not for the raid, the man would have been his father-by-marriage in a few hours and Gareth was curious as to how his commander would handle the situation.

  Lord Flint was a tall, thin man, but seemed short next to Kwin. He looked older than the last time Gareth had seen him, greyer and more care-worn.

  Kwin’s voice was devoid of all emotion when he spoke. “While you have my sympathies, Lord Flint, I have my orders from the king and I will ensure they are carried out before I will discuss anything with you.”

  Kwin then turned his back on him and strode from the room, closely followed by Gareth.

  “What do you plan on doing?” he asked as soon as he and Kwin were alone.

  “As the king has commanded. For now.”

  It was all that Gareth would be able to get out of his friend for the time being, so he went in search of his fellow soldiers to pass on the orders, making sure that he assigned females to guard the king’s family. He and Kwin would discuss the situation later; now was not the time.

  Once the estate was as secure as it could be with so few armed guards, Gareth accompanied Kwin back to the suite the king was staying in. Lord Flint was still trying to convince him to send men to rescue his daughter.

  “May Petra take your tongue man,” the king yelled out as they entered the room. “You are talking nonsense. They will have crossed the border by now. There is nothing we can do.”

  “Permission to speak, your Majesty,” Kwin said, taking Gareth by surprise. He had never heard his friend interrupt nobles before. Then he remembered that Kwin was also, technically, a noble.

  The king indicated with his head for Kwin to continue, his face telling Gareth that he was glad of the interruption.

  “You ordered me to marry Lady Shona and it is an order I intend to obey. With your permission, I would like to attempt to rescue her.”

  Gareth’s jaw dropped open. What Kwin was suggesting would be suicide.

  “While I appreciate the sentiment,” the king said, “I cannot allow it. Too many men have already died. Whenever we send a group of armed men across the border, none ever return. I will not sacrifice more soldiers in a futile attempt to bring back just one woman.”