Return of the Warrior

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Return of the Warrior Page 2

by Kinley MacGregor


  He shook his head in denial. “I will have this contract dissolved immediately.”

  “Nay,” she snarled at him. “You will not.”

  He scowled at her insistence on the impossible. “Are you mad, woman? I have no intention of going to Elgedera. Ever.”

  She straightened. Her dark eyes snapped fire at him as her cheeks mottled in anger. “And I have no intention of allowing you your freedom while I need you to be husband. I am virgin still, but if you walk from this room, I shall find myself the nearest willing male and swear by all that is holy that you were the only man I have ever known and I will drag you home in chains if need be.”

  He saw red at her threat. Truly her audacity knew no limits. “You would jeopardize your immortal soul to keep me bound to you?”

  “Nay, but I will sell my soul to the devil himself to keep my people free from the cloying hands of your cousin, and if bearing false witness is the only way to save my kingdom, then aye. I shall do whatever is necessary.”

  Christian couldn’t breathe as he stared at her. She was unbelievable. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Since when are men so discriminating? Can you honestly say that you have never taken a woman to your bed that you barely knew? I am your wife and our union needs to be consummated.”

  Christian didn’t answer her question. He refused to.

  Her gaze drifted over his body and the robes of a Benedictine monk that he wore. Her face turned completely pale. “Have you taken holy vows? Oh, please tell me that I didn’t just bare my body to a monk! I’ll burn in eternal torment for it, surely.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say aye, but he couldn’t bear to lie. He had suffered the lies of others far too many times in his life to ever deal that to another human being.

  Even an insane one.

  “Nay. I have not.”

  Her face and tone softened and a smile played at the edge of her well-shaped lips. “You are indeed a good man, Christian of Acre, not to lie to me about this.”

  He narrowed his gaze at her. “Make no mistake, my lady, I am never a good man and I have no intention of seeing this marriage met.”

  His words cut through her. Nay, this was not what she’d planned. She’d expected her husband to be more cooperative.

  And deep inside, in a place where she dare not look, was disappointment that he hadn’t remembered her at all, while there had never been a day since their marriage that she hadn’t thought of him and wondered where he’d been, fretted for his welfare.

  But that was something she would never let him know. A pining, sentimental buffoon she might be inwardly, but outwardly she was still queen with a heavy burden to bear. She might not have much, but she did have her dignity.

  “It is not a marriage I want from you, either. I only want a few weeks of your time to secure my borders. After that, you shall be free to live out your life in any manner you choose.”

  He cocked his head at her untoward words. “What say you?”

  She took a deep breath before she spoke to him in a calm, even tone that belied the maelstrom of anger, desire, and fear she felt. “I have no need of a husband to rule my lands. I am more than capable of seeing to my people. I need only your presence so as to appease your people so that your usurper cannot force himself upon me any longer.”

  “My usurper?”

  “Aye. Basilli. Do you remember him at all?”

  He shook his head. “I know no one by that name.”

  “Do you at least recall his father Selwyn, then?”

  Christian recalled the man’s hawkish features quite well. A cold, unfeeling man, Selwyn had been the one to tell him about the death of his parents when he was a boy. Selwyn had been callous and vicious as he told him to stop crying and be a man. Life is tragedy, boy, you might as well accept it and grow accustomed to it.

  Little had Christian known at the time just how true those words were.

  “Aye, I remember him.”

  “Then you might want to know that he is a snake out to claim not just your throne, but mine as well. He and his son must be stopped at any and all costs.”

  Christian frowned. “If that is true and his son wishes to marry you, then why has Selwyn been writing to me to come home and see our betrothal met?”

  She scoffed at that. “Begging you home to murder you, most like, my lord. As they would murder me if I were ever foolish enough to wed Basilli.”

  “You lie.”

  She gave him an arch look. “Think you so? Tell me, have you ever once thought about how odd it is that your parents died together in a fire while you were safely tucked away? That they hid you so as to save you from their fate?”

  Christian struggled to breathe as her accusation ran through his mind. Could there possibly be any truth to it?

  As a child, he’d been too torn apart by grief to think of it. As a man, he’d done his best never to dwell on the past at all.

  “For that matter, haven’t you ever wondered why your inconsequential monastery in Acre was attacked and destroyed by thieves, and why no one from your own family ever came to see if you lived? You’re the sole heir to an important throne and yet they left you to rot. Why would no one ever try to find you? Could it be because you were supposed to have died with the rest of the monks and that is what they told everyone?”

  Christian paused at her words. To his knowledge no one had ever checked into his welfare while he had been imprisoned. He had been the one to send a letter home to tell them of his fate once he was freed.

  Selwyn had written back immediately to beg him home while Christian had recuperated from his injuries in an Italian monastery. Christian had refused, then made his way to France with several other Brotherhood members. In the years since, he and his uncle had passed brief letters through designated monasteries a few times every year.

  “Selwyn has known for years that I live and he knows where I travel.”

  And over those years, there had been countless attempts on his life…

  Her dark, sincere stare burned him. “Selwyn dares more than you know. He is an evil man who rules your people as a tyrant. Unlike you, I will not allow my people to suffer while I do nothing to help them.”

  Her words rang in his ears and ignited his temper. He had lived the whole of his adulthood on a quest to help the downtrodden, and now this woman dared to tell him his own people suffered while he did nothing to help them?

  It was preposterous.

  Wasn’t it?

  “How do I know you’re not lying?” he asked.

  “I am here, aren’t I? Why else would I have traversed hostile lands to come to a country so far from my own unannounced?”

  “And how is it you found me?”

  “A hired tracker.”

  Christian was surprised by her words, though why that should surprise him, given the rest of her ludicrous accusations, he couldn’t imagine. “A tracker? How could a tracker find me when you have no idea who or what I am? For that matter, you had no idea what I looked like.”

  She hesitated, then looked uncertain. “My younger advisor found him for me and the tracker said that he knew who you were and that you should be near the Withernsea Abbey in England this time of year.”

  Adara paused as a bad feeling settled over her. She’d been so focused on finding her wayward spouse that those questions had never entered her mind.

  Indeed, the tracker hadn’t even asked for a description of Christian.

  And before that thought could complete itself, the door to the room crashed open.

  Adara looked past Christian to find five soldiers rushing into the room with swords drawn.

  Two

  The men paused in the doorway as they surveyed her in the cloak and Christian in his monk’s black robes.

  Adara felt ill that she had allowed herself to be so easily duped. “Where are my men?” she asked the tracker. Most importantly, where was Lutian?

  “Dead. All of them.” Her tracker laughed as he l
ooked at her and Christian. “An unarmed queen and a monk to kill.” He tsked as he moved closer. “This’ll be the easiest money I’ve ever earned.”

  Adara grabbed her parcel as Christian drew a sword from beneath his monk’s robes. He whirled toward her and handed her their marriage contract.

  “Excuse me,” he said politely before he placed himself between her and their attackers.

  The eyes of the shortest of the men widened as he saw Christian swing his sword to ready it. “Sierus,” he said with a gulp, “I don’t think he’s a monk.”

  Her heart hammering, she watched as Christian engaged the men with a skill that was deadly and precise.

  It was a beautiful, macabre dance as the five men sought to kill Christian and he deflected their blows with a manly grace and ease. She’d never seen anything like it. The sound of steel echoed loudly in her ears while they each fought for their lives.

  Suddenly one of the attackers took notice of her.

  He lunged.

  Adara jumped back an instant before Christian whirled and caught the man with a blow to his back. As the man fell, three more came through the door.

  They were doomed!

  Christian grabbed his bed and flipped it over, toward the men. He whirled around, kicked open the window, threw his sword out, then grabbed her up in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, clutching her bag even tighter.

  He said nothing.

  Two rapid heartbeats later she found out as he jumped from the window with her firmly cradled in his arms.

  Adara gasped as they fell, then landed in a haystack down below. His weight was crushing, as was the pain of her body from being slammed into the hay.

  It was all she could do to breathe from the agony of it.

  Christian didn’t hesitate before he sheathed his sword, then grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the stable that was just across the way.

  She blushed profusely as she realized what she must look like as her cloak kept parting to expose her naked body.

  Why had she thought to play Cleopatra to his Caesar and meet her husband this way?

  But then how was she to know her hired men would try to kill them? In the future, she would never make either mistake again.

  Provided she had a future, anyway.

  Christian entered the stable, where she saw the bodies of her two guardsmen lying dead in the first stall they reached. Grief tore her heart asunder as Christian moved to the next stall and was confronted by another knight.

  “Lutian?” she called, knowing he, too, must be dead. But without his body being there, she thought mayhap he’d escaped somehow. Her fool could be most wily at times.

  But Lutian didn’t answer her.

  Consumed by guilt and anger over the senselessness of his death, Adara picked up a pitchfork and launched it at the knight, who tried to dodge it while he fought her husband.

  It caught him in the shin. He yelped as Christian parried his sword stroke.

  She seized the pitchfork and went for the knight again, only to have Christian kill him before she could. Still she lunged for the fallen knight.

  “My lady, he’s already dead.”

  “Not dead enough!” she sobbed. “He killed my men. And…and…poor, helpless Lutian.”

  “Hello?”

  Adara couldn’t breathe at the sound of the wonderfully familiar voice. To her immediate relief, Lutian stuck his head up from a pile of hay. Pieces of straw were stuck and tangled in the brown locks of his hair, even in his beard.

  It was the most precious sight she’d ever beheld. “Oh, thank the Lord and His saints for their mercy!” she cried as she ran to him and embraced him without decorum. “You’re alive!”

  “Only a fool would be fighting them, my queen, and though I am a fool, I’m not that foolish.”

  Before she could speak, Christian seized her from Lutian’s arms, then swung her up onto the back of a solid black horse. “This is no time for chatter,” he growled at them.

  She barely had time to cover herself and settle her bag before he joined her.

  He looked at Lutian. “Grab a horse if you’re able and keep up.”

  Christian spurred the horse from the stable.

  “You can’t leave Lutian!” she snapped an imperious tone. “Go back for him. Now.”

  “Death waits for no one, Adara.” Even so, Christian wheeled the horse back toward the stable until they saw Lutian headed out behind them on her brown mare.

  Adara was impressed by Lutian’s abilities. Normally Lutian rode an ass. ’Twas the first time she’d ever seen him on a horse, and he rode with remarkable skill.

  Christian reversed direction again. They flew through the small town, while people scurried to get out of their way. By the time they reached the edge of town, arrows began to whiz past them.

  “Stay low,” Christian said in her ear as he wrapped himself around her to protect her.

  Adara didn’t argue. “Stay down, Lutian,” she called to her friend she could no longer see. “Don’t fall behind.”

  She latched on to the horse’s neck and kept herself huddled there while Christian’s heavy breathing filled her ears. She prayed that they all made it to safety. Terror pounded through her veins. How could this be happening?

  But then, she should have known. What better way to take her throne than to kill both of them together? Then there would be no one left to contest Basilli’s rule.

  Perhaps she should change places with Lutian and let him rule her kingdom. Surely he wouldn’t be so blind or stupid.

  They rode onward until her entire body was cramped from her uncomfortable position. The bag bit harshly into her stomach, but she didn’t move. She wasn’t sure if anyone still followed them or not. However, she didn’t dare look. Better she should be huddled over for eternity than dead.

  Christian glanced behind to see no one in pursuit. He slowed his horse ever so slightly as he tried to hear something other than the horse’s hooves and his own heavy heartbeat.

  “I think we lost them,” he said, slowing even more.

  Lutian kept pace with them as he looked behind as well.

  Adara lifted herself up with a small groan. “I’m sure by now you must have guessed that the first man through the door was the tracker who led me to you.”

  “No doubt paid to put us together so that we could be murdered,” Christian said with a disgusted breath.

  “Aye,” Lutian concurred. “I was fetching a nice leg of lamb in the inn when I saw the Elgederion soldiers enter the stable. Even before I went to the stable to find your men dead, I knew them for villains.”

  “Oh, and what made you think that?” Christian asked sarcastically. “The swords in their hands?”

  Adara ignored him. She was grateful that at least Lutian had survived. “You hid?”

  “Not at first. I started back to the inn to tell you what they’d done, but they were headed to your room and I had hoped your prince would be prince enough to champion you. If not, I was going to chop them up in the stable when they returned for their horses, which I let loose out the back.”

  “That would hardly have helped her had they slain her in the room,” Christian growled.

  Adara grimaced at him. “Christian, please be kind to him. Lutian isn’t quite right.”

  “Quite right, how?”

  Lutian knocked a fist against his skull. “Not right in the noggin. I took a tumble in my youth and scrambled my brains.”

  Christian frowned. “Is he right enough to know how many men are after us?”

  “Aye,” Lutian said. “I can count with the best of them. There were half a score of men who came to the stable, but I overheard them speaking and there is a full garrison of them who have been following us since we left Taagaria. The tracker was apparently leaving them signs to let them know which way we were heading until the two of you were together.”

  Adara rubbed her head to alleviate some of the pain that was beginning to throb ju
st over her brow. “I can’t believe I was so stupid as to trust that tracker. Why didn’t I stop and think that it was unlikely he would find you so soon? My poor guardsmen. I can’t believe I was such a fool.”

  “You had other things on your mind.” Christian’s charitable response surprised her, especially since he, more than anyone else, had plenty of reason to agree that she was a nitwit in this matter.

  “Perhaps,” she said as she adjusted her cloak to conceal her body more effectively. “But I should have known better. My court is riddled with spies.”

  “And my life is ever riddled with enemies.”

  Christian’s bland tone told her much about his life and his view of it. It didn’t appear that enemies concerned him much.

  But they definitely concerned her.

  “So what are we to do now?” she asked.

  Christian turned his horse north. Lutian followed suit, riding just behind them.

  “First we need to find quarter and then think with clear heads.” Christian passed a look over his shoulder to Lutian.

  “No clear head here. See?” He knocked against his skull again. “This one is thoroughly dense.”

  “Lutian,” she said gently. “Please give us a few minutes to talk.” She looked at Christian after Lutian rode up ahead. “I doubt any place is safe now that they know we’re together.”

  “The Scot will see us safe. No one has ever breached his castle’s walls.”

  She frowned. “The Scot?”

  “An old friend.”

  Adara fell silent as the horse picked its way through the dense forest. She still couldn’t believe this had happened to her. How could Selwyn have known what she planned?

  And if he knew she was leaving…

  “Oh, Lord,” she breathed. “He must know I’m not on my throne.”

  Christian’s arms tightened around her. “Easy, Adara. There is nothing you can do.”

  Still her panic swelled as she twisted to look back at him. “But what if he’s harmed my cousin Thera? I left her there to pose as me until my return. Think you he’s killed her as well?”

  “I don’t know, but I doubt that he would. Killing her would serve no purpose until he’s certain you are dead.”

 

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