But her “king” wanted nothing to do with her. Nothing. It stung on a level she hadn’t known existed.
“Very well, my lord,” she said acrimoniously. “Set your matters right and be done with this, then the devil can take you for all I care.” She went to the washstand and flung the cloth at him. “And you can tend your own bloody damned wounds.”
Stunned as the cloth slapped him against his face, Christian watched while Adara stormed from his room. He pulled the cloth from his head and stared at the closed door.
The next thing he knew, he was actually laughing over her tirade. Why? He couldn’t imagine. He should be every bit as angry himself.
He wasn’t.
No woman had ever been angry at him before. None. They had cajoled and tried to seduce. But rage had never confronted him in such a promising package.
You are enchanted.
Aye. Much more than he should be. She would be quite a handful for any man.
He wiped his soggy brow with his arm before he tossed the cloth back to the washing bowl. Most likely he should go after her and apologize, though to be honest there was nothing to apologize for. He’d done nothing wrong. He’d only been truthful with her.
Honesty is for weak-minded fools, especially when it involves charming a maid.
That’s what Ioan would say, but then his old friend was unique in his views of the world.
Sighing, Christian turned over and forced himself to think of other matters. Winning back his kingdom would take all his concentration. The last thing he needed was to allow Adara to distract him while he was leading so many men.
Adara had no real destination in mind as she stalked from the dormitory where Christian’s cell was. She wanted his blood, but there was nothing to be done for it.
“My queen?”
She turned at Lutian’s voice.
“You shouldn’t be out here while the Sesari are after you. They could be here in the yard even now, observing us, waiting for a moment to strike.”
He was right. She headed back toward him immediately. “I was so angry that I wasn’t thinking.”
“We all do that from time to time.”
Adara paused by his side. Her precious Lutian. He’d been with her for so long. Always her friend, her confidant. Not once had he ever betrayed her.
If only he could have been noble-born…
“You are a good friend to me, Lutian. Thank you.”
His eyes blank, he inclined his head to her. “Ever my pleasure and honor to serve you, my queen.”
She patted him on the shoulder before she returned to the shelter of the dormitory and headed to her own cell without ever knowing that Lutian watched her longingly as she vanished from his sight.
“You’re in love with her.”
Lutian turned sharply at the deep, raspy voice that came out of the darkness surrounding him. He had no idea where Phantom was, any more than he’d known Phantom could see him with Adara. “Do you always make it your habit to sneak about?”
“They don’t call me Phantom without cause.” Phantom stepped out of the shadows to his left. Indeed, the man appeared to just move out of the wall itself.
Lutian glared at him. “I thought the Elgederions executed you for murder.”
He gave a wry smile. “They tried. Obviously they failed.”
Lutian started back inside.
“Have you ever told Adara how you feel about her? That you love her?”
A tic started in his jaw as pain swept through him. “She is unreachable to me, and well I know it. If I told her, I would lose her.”
One corner of Phantom’s lips quirked up. “I knew you weren’t the fool you are playing. Tell me, how is it a thief ends up as companion to a queen?”
Lutian gave him a dry stare. “I suppose the same way the son of a prince ends up a legendary thief and assassin. The hand of fate ever schemes to keep us on our toes.”
“Hmm,” Phantom said thoughtfully.
Lutian was uncomfortable under that cold scrutiny. “What?”
“I’m only wondering what lengths you would go to, to possess your ladylove.”
The underlying tone of his voice was dubious. Accusatory. “What is it you accuse me of?”
“How is it her guards were killed and you escaped? For that matter, who killed her guards?”
Angry over his presumption, Lutian started back for the dormitory.
Before Lutian could take more than two steps, Phantom grabbed him and ripped the sleeve from his tunic to bear his upper arm. Lutian cursed and tried to shove him away, but Phantom held tight.
There in the moonlight, Lutian wasn’t sure whose face was palest as Phantom saw the mark on his biceps. He knew it wasn’t the mark Phantom was expecting to see.
“I am not Sesari,” he snarled as he covered the elaborate vine-shaped brand that marked him as a slave. “Nor did I kill her men. I was born property and I stole in order to live after I found the courage to run away from my abusive owner. I hid when the Sesari arrived at the inn because I know nothing of killing or fighting. It’s not a skill anyone teaches a slave or a fool.”
Phantom winced. “I’m sorry, Lutian. It’s not in my nature to trust.”
Lutian looked at the scar on the man’s throat. “Nay, I guess it isn’t. But know this: I would die before I ever betrayed Queen Adara.”
“Does she know of your past?”
He shook his head. “And I would keep it that way.”
Something almost kind darkened Phantom’s eyes. “Have no fear. Keeping secrets is something I excel at.” He released him. “Good night, Lutian.”
Lutian inclined his head to him before he entered the dormitory and headed for his room.
Phantom watched the fool leave, then listened to the night winds that whispered around him. The Sesari were there. He could feel them. They would not stop until they had completed their mission.
But then, neither would he.
“It shall be interesting to see who wins this,” he whispered, then laughed.
A wounded prince, a runaway slave, and a condemned thief were about to join forces with the devil and the damned to save a queen and her people.
The next few weeks would definitely prove interesting indeed.
Six
Christian woke up to the harsh morning light. For an instant there, he was a boy again in the monastery in Acre. His heart clenched as panic swelled and he waited for Brother Arthur to douse him with water, then box his ears for being late for prayer.
But he was no longer a child. The old monastery was gone…as was Brother Arthur. Christian grimaced at the reminder of how they’d all died the night of the attack that had come without warning.
“Cease,” he whispered, banishing those bad memories. There was nothing in the past for him. Nothing.
He sat up slowly, his body loudly protesting every movement.
“Cease what?”
He turned his head to find Adara seated in the uncomfortable chair where she’d been the night before, watching him. “I thought you were angry with me.”
“I am, my lord. Make no mistake over that. However, I have done much thinking since I left you last night and I agree that you are right. What good would it do me to have a king who has no interest in my throne or his? For too long I have lived my life waiting for you. No more. Once we return to Elgedera and you depose your misbegotten relatives, I shall seek your annulment and find myself a consort who is worthy to be king.”
Christian frowned at her words and her flat, emotionless tone. She spoke so matter-of-factly that they could have been discussing the weather as opposed to her future.
“What has brought about this change in you?” he asked.
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Common sense. Since you have no wish to be king, you will need to choose a successor. That successor will be my spouse.”
Surely she was jesting. “And if I choose someone you revile?”
“You won’t.”
She
was so cold as she resigned herself to such a heartless fate. Of course, that was the fate of most women in her position, and yet a part of him that he didn’t want to acknowledge rebelled at the idea of her marrying another man. Surely a woman such as this deserved something better. Someone who could at the very least value her.
What do you care? She is after another poor sap to marry. Be grateful. You are free of her now.
Then why didn’t he feel better about it? Why did something inside him feel like it had been battered by her decision?
’Tis your pride that she would accept another man. Nothing more, nothing less.
Perhaps…
Adara got up and headed for the door. “Thomas sent a servant out at first light to return to the inn so that he could wait for your friends and tell them what has happened to you.”
“Then the rest of you must have been waiting for me.”
She nodded.
“I shall be ready shortly.”
She inclined her head to him and headed for the door. Christian watched her leave. She was again dressed in the plain watchet gown of a peasant with her hair braided sedately down her back, and yet there was something about her that was compelling. She looked calm this morning, but some inner part of him missed the hellion of the night before.
Do get dressed, Christian, and put the matter aside.
That would be the wisest course of action. Christian got up and wasted no time getting himself armed and dressed again. Once he was ready, he went in search of his party.
He found Adara in the refectory with Phantom, Thomas, and Lutian while they broke their fast.
“How do you feel?” Phantom asked him as he set his cup aside to pin him with a frown.
Christian leaned his head to the right to stretch one of the sore muscles in his neck. “Fit to ride.”
Phantom scoffed. “Interesting, since you look as if you’re only fit to fall over.”
Christian gave him a gimlet stare.
Phantom disregarded it. “But if you’re willing to die—”
Thomas cut him off by clearing his throat. “I was telling Velizarii earlier that this monastery was built during the height of the Viking invasions, so there is an old tunnel beneath it that runs for a league out into a shallow bit of woods on the outskirts of a small village.”
“At first light,” Phantom continued, “Thomas had several servants leave the monastery one by one with our horses, to await our arrival in the village.”
Christian smiled at their plan. “So if the Sesari are watching, they will think we are still here.”
Thomas nodded. “They may be soldiers, but according to Adara they are Christian and won’t dare to attack the monastery.”
Phantom laughed bitterly at that. “I wouldn’t bet my life on that presumption, Thomas.”
Christian concurred. The best thing they could do for the monks would be to leave as soon as they were able. “Where is this tunnel?”
Thomas took a torch from the wall, lit it in the fire, then led them to the antechamber of the church. He lifted the corner of a bright red tapestry that depicted Christ rising from the cross, to show a door behind it. The old door hadn’t been opened in quite some time and it took both Phantom and Christian to shoulder it back into working order.
Lutian was “kind” enough to hold the tapestry out for them and verbally encourage them.
“He could hurt himself,” Adara said when Phantom commented on the fool’s lack of use.
“Better him than me,” Phantom muttered as they finally managed to get the door open.
Christian rubbed his sore shoulder as he stepped back from the opening. “Might I make a comment, Thomas? In the event of the monastery being attacked, this would prove a most useless escape route if it takes the monks an hour to open it.”
“Aye,” Phantom concurred. In a feigned ancient voice that sounded much like an old monk, he added, “Wait, good and decent attackers, don’t burn us out yet. We’ve still got a little more pushing to do. We’ll be through with it shortly. Here, pull up a seat and give us a few so that we might escape you. God will bless you for it.”
Adara squelched her laughter, while Lutian and Christian gave full rein to theirs.
Thomas looked less than pleased. “You really are a heathen, aren’t you?”
Phantom shrugged as if it concerned him not at all. “To the farthest depths of my damned and rotted soul.”
Mumbling a prayer for him. Thomas led them into the dark, damp passageway that reminded Christian far too much of the place where they had spent most of their youth.
“Oh, what fond memories this evokes,” Phantom said sarcastically as he followed them. “All we need now is the stench of excrement, rats running over our feet, and the tortured screams of men.”
“Better than riding straight into your enemy’s clutches,” Thomas reminded him.
Phantom snorted at that. “If I have to die, I’d rather do it with the sun on my face and fresh, untainted air in my nostrils.”
“Well, with any luck none of us shall be dying today,” Lutian said.
“How far is this York?” Adara asked as they continued on their way. “Will we have long to journey?”
“Nay,” Phantom answered. “If we move quickly, York is but one day of hard riding south of here. We should make it shortly before nightfall.”
Adara was aghast. “Christian can’t ride that long with his injuries. He shall need rest.”
Christian scoffed at that. “I shall be fine.”
She exchanged a doubtful look with Lutian.
“Look to the bright side of the matter, my queen. If he dies, then you can get his necklace and have your proof of him as your husband.”
Christian cast a murderous glare at him, but said nothing as they walked onward.
It didn’t take too long to get to the village. There Thomas met his servant, who already had the horses saddled and waiting for them.
“Godspeed,” Thomas said as soon as they were mounted.
“And may He be with you, Brother,” Christian said with a respectful tilt of his head.
Thomas blessed them, then sent them on their way. Christian took the lead, while Adara and Lutian rode side by side, with Phantom at the rear in case the Sesari should find them.
Just as Phantom had predicted, it was a hard day of riding, with them only stopping long enough to rest the horses. Adara watched Christian closely, afraid that he would succumb to his injuries. He didn’t, but as each hour came and went, he was definitely paler and a fine sheet of sweat would dapple his brow from time to time.
Still, he refused to stop or to slow, lest it put her in danger. She’d never known any man with his fortitude.
It was well into the evening before they finally reached the town of York. It was a bustling city, even at this hour. Adara looked about as they passed carts and people coming and going on the cobblestone streets.
“How will we find your friend Ioan?” Adara asked.
Before Christian could respond, a man was thrown through an open doorway and went sprawling before them into the street while raucous laughter, taunts, and insults rang out after him. Two more men quickly joined him in the street. They all lay on the ground, groaning.
“I think we found him,” Christian said with a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Or if not, we found someone who can take us to him,” Phantom added.
A large, burly man left the building, and a small crowd gathered in the doorway to watch him as he picked up the first man he’d tossed out. His clothes rumpled, the man’s shoulder-length black hair was in sore need of a trim. He had large brown eyes and a vicious scar that ran from his temple down his cheekbone.
“And for that…” The man’s voice trailed off as he looked up to see Christian on his horse.
The man blinked, then narrowed his eyes as if trying to get them to focus properly. “Abbot?” he asked gruffly. “Is that you, man?”
“Aye, Samson. ’Tis I.”
>
The man laughed as he allowed the man he held to crumple back to the street. He came toward them with his arms outstretched in greeting. The crowd, realizing that there would be no more bloodshed, headed back inside, while the burly man stopped before the travelers.
“God’s blood, Abbot, it’s been too long.”
Christian dismounted. “Indeed, old friend.”
Samson embraced him until Christian hissed. “Are you wounded, brother?”
Christian nodded as he moved away from him. “Where is your lord?”
Samson scratched his scraggly beard. “We’re camped on the outskirts of the town, just below the castle’s hill. Last I saw, Ioan was headed for his tent.” Samson’s dark gaze went from Christian to Adara. “My goodness, what precious vision have we here?”
“You’re death by Christian’s hand if you touch her,” Phantom said.
Samson laughed. “Phantom. Now, you are indeed a ghost from my past. Since when do you travel with anyone?”
“Hugh?” a woman called from the doorway before Phantom could answer. “Are you not coming back?”
Samson turned his head toward her. “Aye, love, give me a moment and I’ll return.” He moved away from Phantom back toward the tavern.
“Vaden?” he bellowed inside the doorway.
A boy around the age of ten-and-six who appeared less than fully sober came running outside. He was thin yet handsome, with dark blond hair and golden eyes. “Aye, m’lord?”
“Take Lord Christian and his companions to Lord Ioan and be quick about it, or I’ll have your arse skinned and tanned.”
As the boy ran for his horse, which was tied to a post a short distance away, Samson turned back to Christian. “If Ioan isn’t there, Vaden will find him for you.”
“My thanks.”
Samson inclined his head. “Now, if you’ll forgive me, I have a previous engagement with the bosom of a goodly woman.”
“And the only question to that is just what exactly is she good at,” Phantom said in a low tone.
Samson clucked his tongue at him. “After you find Ioan, come back here, Phantom, and she’ll educate you well on what she excels at.”
Return of the Warrior Page 9