The Eldentimber Series: Books 1 - 3

by Tapscott, Shari L.

“Not particularly.”

  She breathes in again, and I try not to cringe.

  “I do,” she says. “They smell like freedom.”

  I eye the castle from the stable’s entrance. “Or perhaps it’s the smell of returning to your cage.”

  “Just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” She grins and brushes her hair away from her face. “Looks like we split up here.”

  Ahead of us, Archer continues down the aisle, but Rigel turns. Pippa gives me a good, hard shove around the corner. I look back over my shoulder and give her a wry smile. The princess laughs again, and the sound follows me down the aisle.

  Rigel’s face warms when he sees me. “I expected you to follow Pippa.”

  I match his steps but keep my eyes averted. “Why would I do that?”

  He stops and gently tilts my shoulders toward him. “Because you haven’t looked at me all day.” He raises an eyebrow. “What have I done?”

  How am I supposed to keep my wits about me when he looks at me like that?

  Confusion flickers in his eyes when he sees my struggle. “Seirsha?”

  Before I can say anything, he raises his hand to a stable boy across the aisle. Eager to please, the boy rushes forward.

  Rigel holds out his reins. “Will you mind him for me?”

  The boy’s eyes grow huge. “Lord Rigel…your horse?”

  Rigel reaches into the pouch at his side and presses a coin in the boy’s hand.

  The boy shakes his head and stammers, “My Lord, I can’t accept—”

  Rigel ignores the protests and clasps his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I expect you to brush him down well, do you understand?”

  The boy nods. “Yes, My Lord.”

  I see a flash of gold as the boy tucks the precious coin in his pouch. He gazes on Rigel with such awe, my heart hurts.

  A gold coin will feed that boy’s family for more than a month.

  I’m still watching the child lead the horse away when Rigel offers me his arm. I take it without hesitation. I expect him to lead me to a quiet corner in the stable, but instead we leave the building altogether and enter the castle. We weave through familiar halls until we’re standing in front of my chamber doors.

  “Why are we here?” I ask.

  The hall is empty, and Rigel sets his hands on my arms. “Please tell me—what have I done?” His gray eyes search mine, but his gaze softens when I smile.

  Not wanting to have this conversation in the deserted hall, I open the door and usher him inside. “I was called to Father’s chambers this morning.”

  I can’t look at his face. I turn from him and walk to a window.

  He stands behind me, setting his hands on my shoulders. “Why?”

  His tone is protective. That alone soothes my nerves.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I watch a hawk ride the air currents in the distance. “He did mention something that troubled me, however.”

  He stands behind me, tensed and waiting.

  “He believes you are only pretending to care for me to gain the crown now that Calden is dead.” Rigel starts to growl something, but I turn and place my fingers on his lips, silencing him. “But I have decided that even if it were true, I don’t care.”

  Rigel’s brow furrows, and he pulls away from my fingers. “You wouldn’t care? If I were using you to obtain Errinton—you wouldn’t care? That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard, Seirsha.”

  He’s so irritated by the injustice of my statement that I smile.

  “No matter how it comes to be,” I say. “You should be king.”

  Rigel steps back, crossing his arms and building a wall between us. He opens his mouth just to close it again, and then he glowers at me.

  Finally, he says, “Never at someone else’s expense. To think that you think that I would think it’s acceptable to use—”

  “But you’re not, are you?”

  He looks at me as if I’ve gone as mad as my father. “Of course I’m not.”

  “That must mean you simply like me then.”

  I stand on my toes and brush my lips against his. For a moment, I’ve stunned him so completely, he only stares at me, incredulous. Finally, he mutters something about absurd ideas and foolish princesses, and then his hands slide around my waist. He jerks me toward him, making me laugh and gasp at the same time. I wrap my hands around his neck and try to stay on my feet.

  He presses his lips to mine, and my laughter bubbles away. His kiss isn’t hesitant like it was in the smithy’s. It’s sure and possessive, and if I were harboring any lingering doubts that he wants me, they’re gone.

  His thumb moves at my waist, driving me mad. Rigel kisses like he does everything else—with a startling intensity.

  Too soon, we part, and he sets his forehead against mine.

  With his arms wrapped around me, I feel safe. Protected. I take a deep breath, knowing it’s time to come clean about the events leading up to Calden’s death.

  “It was late,” I say and look at Rigel’s tunic instead of his face. “Bea was preparing to leave. Her brother’s wife had just given birth to a baby girl.”

  I close my eyes, trying to shut out the terror that reliving the night is dredging up. When I open them again, Rigel watches me closely, realizing what I’m about to tell him. His hands settle on my arms, gently giving me the reassurance I need to continue.

  “Calden was drunk,” I whisper. “He beat on the door and demanded I give him Bea. I refused, but he had a key.” Rigel’s eyes flash, and I look at the stone floor as I continue, “He was savage that night—more so than usual.”

  My last words are too much, and Rigel interrupts, his words sharp, “Than usual?”

  I nod. A tremor passes through me, and my stomach clenches. “The first time I didn’t fight him. I ran into the halls to find help. I screamed and yelled. No one cared; no one came. When I returned, he was gone, but Bea…”

  My stomach knots and rolls. I can’t speak these memories out loud. I’ve kept them trapped deep inside for so long. They fester, but at least they are contained.

  Rigel wraps his arms around me, holding me close. He feels safe.

  “After that,” I continue, “he’d sometimes find her when she’d leave my chambers in the evenings…”

  Rigel’s arms are like iron. He’s tense, and I know he’s angry, but it’s cleansing to have someone share my fury.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

  “What could you have done?” I say, looking up at him. “Besides, by the time it started, I rarely saw you.”

  He looks irritated with my answer, and then the question I’ve been dreading comes. “Did he touch you?”

  “He tried once,” I whisper. “It was late and Bea was already safe at home. He was drunk—so drunk. He tried to keep me quiet, but I shrieked and screamed. I finally bit him hard enough he let me go. I ran and didn’t go back to my rooms that entire night.” I quietly seethe before I finish. “The next day I told Father.”

  Rigel doesn’t say anything for a moment. His muscles are tensed under my hand, and his eyes are livid. Once he finally finds control, he asks, “What did your Father say?”

  “He told Calden it was fine to play with the maids if he liked, but I needed to remain pure for a marriage alliance.” I stare at a point over his shoulder. “Apparently, at the time, he cared.”

  Rigel curses low, his face ashen.

  “He was wild the night he attacked Bea. I wanted to kill him.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  I shake my head. “I knocked him unconscious. We left him behind the tavern, hoping he wouldn’t remember the night in the morning. But his morning never came.”

  Exhausted now, I lean my head against him.

  He gently strokes the back of my head. “It’s safe with me.”

  “If Father were to find out—”

  “He won’t.”

  ***

  “Seirsha, this is probably the oddest thing I’ve ever done.”


  I glance at Pippa, unconcerned. “Didn’t you hunt them with the Prince of Glendon?”

  Pippa eyes the iktar in the low light of predawn. “I didn’t intend to make a habit of it.”

  My eyes are on the beasts, and I don’t bother to look at her. “I didn’t peg you for the squeamish type.”

  “I didn’t peg you for an iktar beast slayer.”

  “Well.” I shrug. “We’re not able to hunt dragons anymore.”

  “Was that a joke?” Pippa turns to Archer. “I do believe Seirsha just made a joke.”

  Unable to help myself, I roll my eyes.

  Rigel is already drawing his bow. “How many do you intend to take to the village?”

  “Only one for today. I don’t want the meat to go to waste.”

  I truly hope Rella won’t turn her nose up at it.

  Rigel’s aim is true, and the iktar goes down easily. We ride to the creature, and the men make quick work of the beast. I avert my eyes. I’m not sensitive, but I don’t necessarily want to watch, either.

  “This reminds me of the scavenger hunt when we watched Rigel take down his boar,” Pippa says. “Remember that Archer?”

  Rigel sits back on his heels and shoots the princess a baffled look.

  She grins. “You heard us in the woods, remember? You called out.”

  Rigel looks as if he’s sifting through memories. His lips twitch, and I know he’s secured the one. He shakes his head and simply goes back to his chore. Pippa finds this especially amusing.

  The day is just beginning to lighten when we reach the village. I knock on the cottage door and shift impatiently. Finally, Antone answers.

  “Seirsha.” He’s surprised to see me. His face pales when he takes in my company, and he bows his head. “My Lords, Princesses.”

  “It’s fine, Antone,” I assure him. “They’re friends.”

  He moves to usher us inside, but then he sees the meat on our horses. Surprised, he looks at me in question.

  “It’s iktar,” I whisper, embarrassed by the quality of the meat I’ve brought. “I wish I could bring something—”

  “Princess,” Antone interrupts. “This is too much. We can’t accept this.”

  Blast these Errintonian men and their dragon-slayer pride.

  “Not only can you accept it, but you will.” I cross my arms. “I’m only sorry it’s not beef or venison.”

  Antone looks at me in question. “There is nothing wrong with iktar. It’s a bit stringy, and the dragons won’t eat it, but the meat is good.”

  Pippa smiles at a wreath of dried flowers hanging over a window. She looks back. “Then why don’t you hunt them?”

  “Only the titled may hunt in Errinton,” Rigel answers for Antone. His eyes go dark, and I know he recalls the way things were when his family was in power. “And as a rule, the titled won’t eat iktar.”

  “Too good to eat the dragon’s unwanted portions,” I add.

  “Can’t the villagers obtain a permit to hunt?” Pippa asks.

  Rigel shakes his head.

  She grumbles something under her breath and then examines a whittled sheep on the kitchen table.

  Rella and Bea appear from the back bedroom. They look as exhausted as Antone. It’s early, but the sun is almost up. They shouldn’t be this bleary-eyed. I hope they’re not coming down with something.

  “Seirsha.” Bea ignores the others as she skirts around the table and comes to me. “What are you doing here?” Then she sees the men bringing in the meat. “Where did that come from?”

  I tell her, and she looks as if she might faint. She clasps her arms around me, squeezing me tight. I pat her back a few times and step away.

  Rella surveys the meat. “We’ll have to share it. We can’t eat it all before it goes bad.”

  “You could smoke it,” Archer says.

  Rigel shakes his head. “It would draw attention, and then they would be questioned.”

  “But we’ve done nothing wrong,” I argue. “We’re titled. By law, we are allowed to hunt.”

  “It’s best not to draw attention, Seirsha. If Bowen were to find out, he would put a stop to it.”

  I clench my hands, thinking. “Share it.”

  Rigel nods. “Be discreet about it, but let the people know we can get more.”

  Chapter Ten

  I don’t like the mines. The air is oddly stale, and I feel as if the cavern is going to cave in on me. The sound of axes picking at the rock echoes from some dark passage, and the noise further sets me on edge. It’s nothing like Adrinel’s lair.

  Rigel gives my arm a squeeze. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course.”

  I don’t think he believes me.

  “Some people feel claustrophobic in the caverns,” he says.

  Yes, that’s the feeling. The walls are closing in, and there’s no air.

  “I’m fine, Rigel.”

  “The steely grip on my arm would say otherwise.”

  Ready to snarl a reply, I look over. I forget what I was going to say when I see the grin on his face.

  He leans close, laughing quietly. “You know, for an Errintonian princess, you’re a bit timid.”

  I motion to the tunnel. “Why are we here again?”

  “I want to show you the drachite.”

  “Haven’t I seen it?” I ask as we wander farther down the tunnel. “Large green rock on your workbench?”

  Rigel laughs, wraps his arm around my shoulder, and pulls me flush against his side. He only holds me for a moment before he lets me free to take a more proper position. I accept his arm.

  As we continue on, Rigel calls his greetings to the men we pass. It continues to surprise me the loyalty the young lord unconsciously demands. The workers return his greetings with friendly ones of their own, and many stop to chat.

  We’re just turning down another tunnel when a man comes up behind us and says, “Excuse me, Lord Rigel.”

  The dull flicker from the torches fixed on the stone walls does little to illuminate the tunnel, and his face is half shadowed.

  “There is a man asking for work,” the man continues. “He says he was sent here by the Prince of Glendon?”

  Rigel looks startled. “Galinor?”

  “I believe so.”

  Curiosity replaces surprise, and Rigel motions for the man to lead the way. I breathe easier when I spot the faint light at the end of the cavern.

  We step into the sunshine, and I feel as if a weight has been lifted from my lungs.

  “You’d make a poor miner,” Rigel whispers in my ear.

  My lips twitch, but I hide my smile. “Thankfully, it’s not a trade I plan to pursue.”

  A man with the look of a person unaccustomed to waiting stands near the entrance of the mine. The first thing I notice is the long scar that starts at his hairline, crosses his eye, and ends at his chin. The second is the distrustful look he directs at Rigel. That look turns to disgust when his gaze travels to me.

  I miss a step, but Rigel tucks my hand closer, and we press on.

  Undaunted by the man’s obvious ire, Rigel steps up to him, his expression as controlled as ever. “You seek work?”

  The man clenches his jaw as if he’s regretting his decision now that he’s in front of Rigel. “I was sent by Galinor of Glendon.”

  Rigel crosses his arms, assessing the man. “You are a slayer.”

  The man’s eyes flash with irritation. “I was a slayer.”

  “How are you acquainted with Galinor?”

  The man smirks and glances at the dark cavern entrance before he turns back to Rigel. “He hired me as a guide to hunt iktar, and I attempted to rob him and his lady.”

  I startle at his truthful answer, but other than a shadow of humor in Rigel’s eyes, he doesn’t flinch. “And he sent you to me?”

  “He said you would have honest work.”

  “That sounds like Galinor,” Rigel says, flashing me a look before he turns back to assess the man. “Have y
ou mined before?”

  The slayer’s jaw works again. “No.”

  “What’s your name?”

  The man crosses his arms, mimicking Rigel. “Penrith of Bourke.”

  Rigel nods. “I’ll pay you one gold piece for every two carts you fill.”

  “And by the week?”

  “I don’t pay by the week; I pay by the cart.”

  The man snorts. “Fine.”

  “If you want gold, you will work for it.” Rigel takes a step forward. “And if you attempt to rob me or one of my men, you will regret it.”

  The promise hangs in the air. I hold my breath as the two men face each other, neither’s pride allowing them to yield.

  Penrith breaks first and shifts his weight. “If you pay me, I’ll have no reason to steal from you, will I? Now, where do I begin?”

  Rigel calls to the man who led us from the cavern, and he takes Penrith away.

  “Do you trust him?” I ask.

  Rigel takes my hand and twines his fingers through mine. “Only as far as my sword reaches.”

  “Then why did you give him work?”

  He chuckles, a sound from deep in his throat. “They all come to me like that.”

  “Hostile?”

  Rigel nods. “We’ll see how he takes to the work. I may have another trade in mind.”

  Instead of going back to the mine, Rigel leads me down a path through the forest. Even up here, summer has arrived. Dirty gray bits of ice and snow hide under trees and other shady spots, too stubborn to melt. The breeze chills my cheeks, but I am almost too warm under my cloak.

  “What would you do with him?” I step around fallen boulders in the path, careful to avoid a mud puddle. “And why aren’t we going back into the mine?”

  Rigel raises an eyebrow and tugs me back. “We can return if you want to…”

  “No.” I give him a light jab in his side for his teasing. “This is better.”

  The warm, soothing sound of his laughter sets off a flurry of flutters in my stomach. He starts down the path again. His meandering pace hints that he has no destination in mind, but I am more than content to follow him.

  “Penrith is of the family line of Bourke,” Rigel says. “The name carries a minor lordship granted at one time for a service rendered.”

  The words soak in. I pull him to a stop and turn toward him. “You’re going to have him hunt iktar.”