by Lynn Wood
Nathan knelt down so he could look young Daniel in the eye. “No, Daniel. You did exactly the right thing. There was nothing you could have done to help Lady Rhiann. They would have taken or hurt you too and then we would not have known what happened to her.”
Nathan forced himself to reach for his pouch and fish two coins from it. He pressed them into the hands of the stunned boy. “I will find Lady Rhiann and bring her back.”
The boy nodded, smiling, his overwhelming relief evident on his young face. Nathan wished his own fears could be so easily assuaged. Even now the bile of his fear rose in his throat and he was forced to swallow the consequences of his failure. He felt Archibald’s hand grip his shoulder.
“We’ll find her.”
Nathan stood and met his friend’s concerned glance. Both men understood the emptiness of Archibald’s reassurance, but Nathan nodded, grateful for his friend’s support. Nathan had no doubt they would find his wife, if for no other reason than because he would not rest until they did. But would they find Rhiann and the child she carried alive? Unhurt?
Until he had his wife back safely his vengeance would have to wait. He drew a deep breath to clear his thoughts of the vile mixture of terror and his plans for the vengeance he would exact swirling through them and forced himself to contemplate his next move. He did not trust himself to be alone with his former almost-betrothed in his current condition. Archibald understood that without being told.
“Let us go pay a visit to Lady Sara.”
When they exited the church, Nathan noted the wind was picking up and there was a dampness to the air intimating an icy wet mixture would impede their search. Nathan’s only thought was whether Rhiann was warm enough. Was she even still alive? Who was responsible for this blasphemy? Archibald’s grip on his shoulder shook him back to the present. Rhiann’s safety was the only thing that mattered now. He would have to get his fury under control before he faced his former betrothed, else he would not allow her to live long enough to give them the information they needed to find Rhiann. They took off in the direction of his father’s tents. He imagined Sara would take refuge there, thinking his father would or could somehow shield her from the repercussions of her despicable deed.
Halfway up the rise where his father’s tents were set up, Nathan was distracted by the sound of a horse’s neighing in the distance. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. He looked towards the sound and saw his wife’s stallion at the top of the rise, pawing the ground insistently, as if in a hurry to begin a journey.
“Arden,” Nathan released the name in a quiet whisper. Feeling hope stir in his breast for the first time since news of his wife’s abduction was delivered to him, he turned to Archibald and threw his commands over his shoulder as he set off at a run towards the stables where his own horse was tethered. “Gather the men. Arden will lead us to Rhiann.”
“Baron…”
But Nathan was already halfway to the stables and he failed to respond to his friend’s cautious counsel, whether because he was already so far ahead of him he never heard it or because he heard it but it did not sway him, Archibald was left alone to wonder about.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Nathan motioned to his men to hold in place. They surrounded the campsite where Rhiann was being held by a man he vaguely recognized among the recent arrivals to the city, but he could not name and could not imagine what he wanted with his wife. Nathan assumed after he recovered from the sickening shock of learning his wife was kidnapped that he was the target. Now as he listened to her abductor question his wife, he knew his presumption was mistaken, as so much of his assumptions surrounding his wife had been to date. This wasn’t about him at all. It was about Rhiann and somehow involved the mysterious stone her mother passed to her at her own death. He brushed aside his instinctive fury at the thought the danger his wife now faced revolved around superstitions surrounding a stupid hunk of rock and returned his focus to the moment. His next move would either save or cost his wife her foolish life. He would not allow the latter. If anyone was going to kill her, it was going to be him for putting herself in this precarious position by refusing to trust her husband enough to confide her secrets to him.
His eyes now took in every position of the men who held his wife. In an instant he noted the weapon within each man’s reach, surveyed their carelessness, and knew they assumed the dead scout they placed not far away to keep watch would give them sufficient warning of any breach of their perimeter. Nathan’s breath was smooth and unbroken. There was no panic in his mind. Panic would only get his wife killed. It wasn’t the heat of passion running through his blood now when he gazed at his wife’s vulnerable position, her back to the fire, facing the man who questioned her, emphasizing the hopelessness of her position with the sharp blade he taunted her with.
No, even the sight of his wife in danger failed to warm the ice running through his veins. He was a warrior by training and trade and any warrior who survived the number of campaigns he engaged in understood hot blooded passion got you and your men killed. Ice slowed down the hot flood of bloodlust in the heat of battle and allowed for a much sharper weapon to do its work. His mind. His understanding of how to defeat his opponent. A calculation of the odds of success, where to strike first, where the enemy’s vulnerabilities lay, who needed to die first, how the task would be accomplished and by who, then onto the consideration of who would die next, always his wife’s safety paramount to any strategy.
So he stood unseen in the shadows and in the silence watched the dead man taunt his wife. His eyes took in the empty leather sheath strapped to her arm, noting they stole her grandmother’s precious dagger from her. He would see to it his wife’s property was returned and the leather sheath would not remain empty much longer. He was impressed by his wife’s pride and defiance as she faced her kidnappers. She answered the man’s questions with her own taunts, egging him on, laughing at his foolishness, intent on making him lose his temper. While he understood her tactics, he blanched at the risk she seemed intent on taking.
Rhiann had no way of knowing he was there, close enough to rescue her. He recognized she was going to take her own chance of escaping. He needed to be ready, not only for any opportunity she presented, but also to kill anyone close enough when she made her move, particularly the man wielding the sword in front of her. He would be the first to die.
“You will show me Lady Rhiann how to access the stone’s power.”
“You are a fool to believe such tales. The stone holds no power and even if it did, I would not know how to access it. The stone was never meant to come to me. I do not know its secrets, though I sincerely doubt there are any to know.”
“You lie!”
Rhiann rolled her eyes in a mocking gesture. The action and implied disrespect accompanying it sent her abductor into a fresh rage. He backhanded Rhiann to the ground, but made no move to use the sword in his hand. Nathan thought he understood his enemy’s hesitation. He needed Rhiann alive. Without its keeper, the stone was useless.
Nathan gripped the heavy blade in his hand and raised it over his head in a signal to his men. Rhiann lay unmoving on the ground. He hoped she was unconscious. He did not want her to witness what he became when he unleashed the rage now fighting against the restraint of the iron band of his will.
His wife stirred. Her attacker stood over her breathing heavily, his face red with fury over his captive’s mockery. Nathan waited to give the signal to attack. As soon as he realized what was happening the man standing over her would kill Rhiann. Nathan had no intention of allowing that to happen, but he wanted the man distracted and not standing so close to his wife when he gave the order to engage the enemy.
What happened next so astonished him, Nathan could not believe the evidence of his own eyes. Rhiann stirred again, moaning as she regained consciousness. Then in a single, blurred motion she leapt off the ground and buried her grandmother’s missing dagger directly into the heart of her attacker. If Nathan had not just witnessed
his wife’s deadly precision, he would never believe she was capable of such impressive ruthlessness. Rhiann moved so quickly he didn’t think even the most expert among his men could have executed her move as smoothly or with such deadly skill. A point of fact, he was uncertain whether or not he could have moved quickly enough to defend against her assault if it had been aimed in his direction.
His wife’s abductor was dead before his body crumpled to the ground. Fortunately Nathan’s astonishment at his wife’s deadly prowess did not lessen his battle instincts. He was instantly aware of the movement at his wife’s back. One of her kidnappers, apparently determined to gain vengeance on his leader’s behalf, raised his sword at Rhiann’s defenseless back. Nathan gave him his due for his loyalty. At the same time he threw the sword he held in his icy grip with a strength and a precision he knew at least none of his men could match. His wife, though unable to match his physical strength, might prove his equal in instinct as even now she sensed the threat behind her and turned swiftly to confront it.
The sound of his sword whistled through the air even as Nathan’s battle cry split the night and he gave the order to attack. The second abductor fell dead with Nathan’s sword buried in his back even as Rhiann turned to face him, brandishing the jeweled dagger she managed to pull from her abductor’s chest as he fell to the ground.
Rhiann lifted her glance from the dead man and met her husband’s eyes over the distance separating them. Hers gleamed emerald fire. His cool blue ice. Around them the battle was swiftly over, her abductors dead. Nathan approached his wife, who stood among the bloody bodies like some pagan warrior princess. He didn’t think he was ever more aware of his good fortune in having her for his wife as he was in that moment.
He stepped over the dead at her feet and reached out to gently remove the dagger from her hand, just in case. Though there was no glaze of shock in her eyes, he was fairly certain this was her first encounter with violence and her reactions were always somewhat unpredictable, regardless of the circumstances. He wiped her abductor’s blood from the blade and returned it to its proper place strapped to her arm.
“I killed him.” There was no regret in her voice, only a statement of fact. Nathan recognized it for the challenge it was. He also recognized there were levels to his wife he had yet to even catch a glimpse of, let alone explore as thoroughly and as intimately as he intended to.
He was looking forward to probing his wife’s secrets, but for now Rhiann was obviously waiting for some sign on his part to reveal how shocked he was at her unladylike skill. He couldn’t blame her. Most ladies of his acquaintance would have been groveling at their abductor’s feet, begging for mercy. Although he was not thrilled with the chances she took with her life, Nathan admired courage even in feminine form, and rather surprisingly found himself pleased at the thought his own daughters would likely take after their mother.
He grinned at the thought of his future little warrior princesses running around his new estates, then recalled there was yet another mystery for him to unravel. The dead man called Rhiann princess…rather mockingly, but his wife did not appear particularly shocked by the man’s form of address.
He met his wife’s defiant gaze and pushed this latest mystery aside for another day. For now, he would confront his wife’s challenge, and he hoped convince her he did not find her unusual skill the least bit distasteful. He met her glance fully and responded to her statement of fact with an equally bald statement of agreement.
“Yes.”
She eyed him closely, obviously unsure how he would react when he discovered his wife was capable of plunging a dagger into a man’s heart.
“Who taught you to wield a blade?”
She continued to regard him as defiantly as she had the man at her feet. “Michel.”
“I thought you were prevented from accompanying the Salusian warriors when Michel and Melissa were being trained.”
She shrugged. “I was, but Michel felt sorry for me, so he took me aside later and taught me things.”
“I am very glad he did.”
There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but apparently she was not done challenging him. “I can throw a blade, too. Michel said I was better than Melissa, maybe evenbetter than him.”
“Then you will be able to teach our children.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, particularly our daughters.”
Rhiann looked down at the corpse at her feet. “I could not allow him to steal my life again. I was not about to let him steal our child’s.”
“I am proud of you wife.”
She lifted surprised eyes to his face, and then surprisingly, grinned. “Most men would be appalled.”
“Most men are fools.”
“Can we go home now?”
He reached out and lifted her in his arms and turned towards where the horses were being held for them. She looped her arms around his neck and asked curiously, “How did you find me?”
“Arden”
She smiled, delighted. “I told you it was his duty to protect me.”
“Yes. He is apparently better at that particular duty than your husband. I will not be so remiss in the future.”
“Is Thomas all right?”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“I cannot believe Lady Regina could be so vindictive.”
Nathan started in surprise at his wife’s conclusion it was the Saxon woman who assisted her kidnappers. He hesitated, then reluctantly admitted. “It wasn’t Lady Regina.”
Surprised, she lifted her head away from his shoulder so she could see his face. “It wasn’t? Then who was it?”
“Sara.” He refused to place the title of lady before her name. In his mind, she was no longer worthy of it.
“Sara? Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
At the certainty of his conclusion, Rhiann fell quiet for a moment, and then rested her head back on his shoulder. “I suppose I owe Lady Regina an apology for blaming her in my mind.”
Nathan bit back a harsh laugh. “No wife, you owe nothing to that vindictive bitch.”
Rhiann sighed and snuggled closer into the warmth of her husband’s strong arms. “We don’t have to tell your mother about this, do we? She already thinks I’m strange.” Her observation was made in such a forlorn tone of voice he couldn’t help but be amused. Gone was the proud warrior princess from just moments ago. In her place was his young bride, so eager to please and make a place for herself in his family’s affections.
His lips twitched. Then at the thought of his mother’s reaction to having been abducted, knocked nearly unconscious, questioned with a sword brandished beneath her nose, the threat of rape and a violent death hanging over her head, and his wife’s foolish concern over his mother’s reaction to the news her daughter-in-law managed to kill her assailant with the dagger she kept strapped to her arm, his lips stretched wider. His shoulders started shaking, causing Rhiann to tighten her grip around his neck as if she feared he might drop her. Soon the woods rang with his laughter, the bold sound bouncing off the trees and stones and echoing back towards them.
Rhiann regarded him with a doubtful expression mirrored on the faces of his men, who stood circling them, waiting for their lord’s order to regain their mounts and return to the city. Nathan finally regained control of his laughter and gave the order to mount. He looked down at his wife’s incredulous expression and asked just for the fun of seeing her reaction. “Princess?”
Her face flooded with guilty color even as he could see her struggling to come up with some kind of reasonable pretext for her attacker’s form of address.
The excitement of the past several hours must have momentarily robbed her of the glib denials, excuses and outright lies she apparently kept a store of for whenever he asked her a question about her family or past she was disinclined to answer. She finally resorted to an oft-repeated compromise. “It’s complicated.”
; He wasn’t inclined to push her. She’d already dipped her head back on his chest and burrowed closer into his encircling arms. The action was telling. He knew she trusted him. In time she would share her secrets with him. He decided they both endured enough excitement for one day.
He wrapped the folds of his cloak more closely around his drowsy wife. With the threat behind them, she was already falling asleep in his arms. He looked forward to the day when they would return to Heaven’s Crest and begin a new life together. He thought the property aptly named and had no intention of changing it as others might feel inclined to do in his place in order to put their own stamp on their new home. No, he thought Heaven’s Crest was the perfect name.
After all, it was the home of an angel.
EPILOGUE
Nathan’s euphoria at finding his wife safe and uninjured from her ordeal soon wore off. On the eve of the king’s coronation, Nathan turned his attention from where he was training his men and watched as his wife exited the church under the guard of two of his most experienced men and crossed the courtyard for her afternoon nap. His men were glad of the reprieve from the day’s training and bent over their swords, their massive chests straining to draw enough air into them so their breathing could return to normal before the brutal session began again.
Gone was the new lord they seemed to acquire after the king’s generosity and their baron’s recent marriage to young Lady Rhiann. If these past weeks they were wont to mock in the silence of their thoughts their lord’s trials with his young wife and noted his distraction from his previous demanding training methods, they jeered no longer, even in silence. Ever since his wife’s abduction, their lord reverted to his previous ruthless demeanor. If possible, his soldiers found him even more remote and demanding than before the war, when he pushed them to the limits of their physical strength on what he hoped would be the final test to prove himself in the eyes of the duke, with the anticipation of finally being rewarded with lands of his own.