by Tamryn Tamer
“How do you know so much about me?”
“Spies,” Brynn answered as if it were obvious. “I paid servants for information and Erik doesn’t exactly inspire loyalty.”
“What’s in it for you?” Frost asked suspicious of anybody from the royal family.
“Several reasons,” Brynn said. “The first is that by marrying and bearing the children of a herald, even a cursed one who lays with elves, I solidify myself as a candidate to inherit the throne.”
“I don’t plan on having children anytime soon,” Frost interrupted.
“You are just adorable when you think you have a choice,” Brynn said cheerfully. “Anyway, the second reason is that there are very few members of the royal family arrogant enough to go to war with a herald, even a cursed one. Once I marry you, I can declare myself without fear of being assassinated.”
“Or make yourself a bigger target,” Frost grumbled. “And put the elves in danger.”
“Trust me when I say it wouldn’t,” Brynn said. “The only reason you’re in this predicament is that you appeared in Erik’s province. There are only two other princes arrogant enough to war with a herald and both are smart enough to avoid it. A herald married to a princess of Zira would be nearly untouchable.”
“So, you’re proposing a political marriage,” Frost grinned.
“Not exactly,” Brynn said. “I refuse to have a marriage like my adopted mother’s. You will spend time with me. You will lay with me. You will confide in me. And you will love me.”
“Do I have a say in any of this?” Frost asked as they continued to ride. “You seem awfully confident.”
“You lost your say when I saved your life cutie,” Brynn replied. “Let me ask you a question Herald Frost. Is it really so much to ask?”
“Excuse me?” Frost was confused by the question.
“I saved your life and by saving your life I’ve saved your elves’ lives,” Brynn said while squeezing his waist. “Also, I’ll bring a legitimacy to your territory that it desperately needs. I’ll be able to negotiate with my stepfather for you. If I inherit the throne of Zira, I’ll be able to protect you. If, when you were about to die, I stopped and gave you the choice, would you have chosen death instead? So, I’ll ask again, is it so much to ask that you spend time with me, lay with me, confide in me, and love me?”
“Brynn,” Frost sighed as he realized she was right, he would have agreed to it in order to save both his life and those of the elves. But he just couldn’t do it. “It wouldn’t be fair to you. I know how humans in this world view elves, but I love them. You want me to lay with you, but I intend to keep laying with them.”
“What if we both did?” Brynn asked. “Laid with them I mean. I think I understand what you’re trying to tell me. You’re saying that you’d feel guilty leaving me to sleep with the elves. So, what if we invited them into our bed?”
“You don’t mean that,” Frost said.
“I do mean that,” Brynn replied. “You owe me everything but I’m only asking for a little and promising you more. You will marry me. You will lay with me. You will love me.”
“I’ll consider it,” Frost sighed as he realized that he did ow her his life. If she was going to let him continue as he wanted with the only stipulation being a ceremony, it wasn’t much of a price. “But I want to see how you and the elves get along first. I’m the Herald of Shalia and they’re her followers. I won’t marry a woman…”
“I’ll love them if it means you love me handsome,” Brynn answered. “Our wedding will be one month from today. We will practice sharing a bed with the elves. Except you’re not permitted to make love to me until we’re married.”
“You make it sound like…” Frost paused. “Are you a virgin.”
“Of course,” Brynn answered. “I may disguise myself as a butler, but I’m a princess.”
Frost contemplated the awkward situation he was in as they continued to ride toward the bridge. He also really hoped that Brynn was right and they’d be able to make it in time.
CHAPTER 16
“How are you all doing?” Commander Grey asked as they approached the crossroads.
They were still about half a day’s march from the city and Commander Grey was already starting to get anxious. If he didn’t reach the city in time with the elves, his daughter was as good as dead. But if he did reach the city in time the elves were dead and then he’d just have to pray the heroes did their job. He wasn’t in a good position.
“We are doing fine,” the elf priestess answered politely. “What about yourself? You seem to be struggling with something.”
“Don’t ask questions,” Sir Malcolm said while positioning his horse between Lysandra and the commander. “Your only concern is reaching Blackwater.”
“It’s fine,” Commander Grey chuckled. It wasn’t uncommon for prisoners to attempt to endear themselves in hopes of negotiating an escape, but he didn’t think that’s what she was doing. “Why do you ask?”
“I suppose out of habit,” she answered as their march continued. “I’m a high priestess. When I see people struggling with a burden, I offer assistance. Is that so strange?”
“Yes,” Commander Grey said while thinking of the priests in the temples dedicated to Ziralia. Ziralia was a goddess of laws, order, and judgment. He learned after his third paddling as a boy not to tell those priests and priestesses anything if he could help it. “I’m a follower of Ziralia, as a priestess of Shalia you shouldn’t be too worried about me.”
“Shalia wouldn’t mind,” Lysandra said without hesitation. “I’ve always gotten the distinct impression that she doesn’t really care what I do.”
“You’ve talked with her?” Sir Malcolm eyed the elf suspiciously and rightfully so. There was a big difference between a high priestess and a prophet. Commander Grey scanned her and she was certainly only a high priestess. “You have that ability?”
“No,” Lysandra answered. “Which is how I know she approves of what I do. When was the last time you heard of a god or goddess telling their followers they were doing a good job? They only really get involved when things go horribly awry. Anyway, I was asking about you. You’re worried about something. I always find that talking about things helps.”
“Talking doesn’t help anything,” Sir Drake scoffed.
“I beg to differ,” Robin chimed in as several soldiers glared at her. “If I don’t know a patient’s symptoms, I’m unable to treat them. Similarly, if Lysandra doesn’t know your troubles she’s unable to assist.”
“I didn’t ask for her assistance,” Commander Grey scoffed at the elves’ persistence and their complete lack of concern over their situation. “And if you really have time to help others you should probably be chatting with each other.”
“Are any of you worried?” Lysandra asked the elves as they all shook their heads no and the bound one in the wagon growled excitedly.
“No,” Fayeth said.
“Not a bit,” Shael followed up.
“What’s there to worry about?” Renna asked while smirking at one of the soldiers. “The only ones with something to worry about are the poor bastards escorting us.”
“Shael,” Lysandra gestured at Renna and Shael quickly smacked the small elf upside the head. “Thank you.”
“Violent old hag!” Renna snapped at Shael.
“My pleasure,” Shael smiled at Lysandra.
“I apologize,” Lysandra said as the guards became more irritable. “I assure you she didn’t mean it as a threat.”
“I didn’t take it as one,” Commander Grey said while glancing at his men.
His men were anxious but it wasn’t because of the elves. They were getting close to Blackwater and even if they brought the elves, Raullon wasn’t likely to forgive his impertinence. If Raullon decided to act against the commander, his men would have a difficult choice to make. It was that knowledge that had them on edge.
“Are you concerned that Raullon will have you all killed?” Lys
andra asked as the entire troop turned toward her. “Oh, was I right on the first guess?”
“You’re an annoying little…” Sir Malcolm reached for his baton.
“Malcom,” Commander Grey shook his head as the commander answered her question. “We’re worried about a lot of things priestess so it’s not wise to antagonize us.”
“I’m not trying to antagonize you,” the high priestess said completely unshaken by the angry glares aimed at her. “I simply think it would be healthy for you to state your fear out loud. If you can’t even give voice to your fears, how do you intend to face them?”
“We’re knights of Zira,” Sir Drake scoffed. “We’re not afraid of anything.”
The elves collectively stifled their laughter causing Sir Drake to reach for his club.
“Drake,” Commander Grey sighed. “You elves are an annoying bunch. Know your place.”
“I used to be scared of humans,” Emmy interrupted from the cart. “But then Herald Frost came and now I’m only afraid of some humans.”
“I’m afraid of dying alone,” Mira said cheerfully. “That’s why I’m doing my best to seduce Herald Frost.”
“Good luck with that,” another elf said angrily. “Lysandra’s keeping him all to herself!”
“Selfish old hag,” an elf near the back of the line yelled. “Learn to share!”
“She knows she can’t compete with us younger ones,” another elf shouted.
“Oh, you’re all crazy, that explains it,” Commander Grey laughed as the elves rambled. “See what happens when you talk things out?”
“The feelings are there regardless,” the priestess said in a tone that reminded Commander Grey of his mother. “Although I’m still not sure how we’re going to deal with that particular issue. What about you Commander Grey? You don’t seem to be the type of man who’d be concerned about dying.”
“If I die, that’s alright by me. But my daughter,” Commander Grey glanced at his men and they nodded back him. They knew where their priorities were. If they had a choice to save her or him, the order was to save her. “Duke Raullon is holding onto her and if I don’t escort you to Blackwater he’ll kill her.”
“I see,” the priestess said pensively. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”
“A little odd coming from a prisoner that’s going to be dead by the end of the day,” Commander Grey said.
“Oh,” Lysandra smiled and pointed at the horizon. “We’ll be fine. Herald Frost is going to intercept you before you reach the city and you will agree to escort us back to our village in exchange for your daughter. On that note, we should probably hurry to Nemisol Bridge before things get out of hand.”
“Excuse me?” Commander Grey turned toward Lysandra to see her staring into the distance. He wanted to see what she was seeing but an elf’s vision was far better than a human’s. Commander Grey turned to the Sir Malcolm. “Malcolm, keep the pace and don’t let anything happen to the elves. I’m riding ahead.”
“Yes sir,” Sir Malcolm answered. “Do you want somebody to ride with you?”
“No,” Commander Grey said knowing full well that his entire troop could ride with him and if Frost was up ahead it wouldn’t make a difference. It was better they stay back for their own safety. The cursed herald was bound to be pissed off and out for blood. “I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, leave the elves and run. Got me?”
“Yes sir,” Sir Malcolm replied as Commander Grey rode toward the bridge.
There were two guard posts at Nemisol Bridge and between them was a stone arch with a portcullis meant to keep intruders out. It wasn’t particularly fortified but there was normally a good twenty men there at any given time. If that pissed off monster somehow arrived already, there was a fair chance those twenty men were already dead.
“Faster you damn horse!” Commander Grey growled as the bridge neared. The portcullis was raised which he’d normally consider a good sign, but as he got closer, he noticed a line of guards bound and laying beneath the steel gate as if it were a massive guillotine. Commander Grey yelled out hoping somebody could hear him. “No! Wait!”
He rode over the last hill and two figures were standing in front of the bridge waiting for him. He was positive that the one was Herald Frost but had no idea who the small one was. It looked like a young man in a black suit, sort of the kind hired help would wear.
“Commander Grey,” Frost’s tone sent a chill through him. “I hope you’re not alone.”
“Your elves are fine,” Commander Grey said while slowing his approach. He glanced at the bloodied men laying beneath the portcullis waiting for it to drop. “Can I say the same for these men?”
“I don’t care about these men,” Frost said. “Remember our talk in the village?”
“You’d trade every human in that city for one of your elves,” Commander Grey nodded. “I know. It’s why I made sure not a single hair on their heads has been plucked.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it,” Frost said while nodding at the young butler. The boy pulled out a flute, played a few notes, and ran up the stone guard tower like it was a small hill. He gripped the lever and looked at Frost. “If a single elf says they were so much as shoved, she’s pulling the lever.”
“Alright,” Commander Grey nodded while glancing at the butler. After a closer look the boy did seem rather feminine but it was odd for a young lady to be running around dressed as a man. He wondered if she were on the run from somebody or a criminal of some sort. “Let’s just wait then.”
“Hey Frost,” the butler shouted while glancing toward Blackwater. “Not sure why but a few soldiers are heading this way. Should I pull the portcullis?”
“No! It’s probably just a guard change!” Commander Grey objected. “I’ll ride ahead and…”
“No,” Frost answered. “Let them come. If they decide to cause trouble, I’ll add them to the lineup.”
“Fine,” Commander Grey said while glancing back. The elves and soldiers stopped at the top of the hill until the commander flagged them down. They continued their descent and the commander prayed that none of the men did anything stupid in the ten minutes since he ran ahead.
“They’re getting awfully close,” the butler said. “The highest level is only level nineteen. Oh, they seem to have noticed the line up and are rushing for the bridge. Want me to take care of them?”
“I’ll handle it,” Frost said.
“No,” Commander Grey objected as Frost turned toward the bridge. “Let them come to the bridge and I’ll tell them to stand down. It’s probably just the guard change. I don’t want to risk them doing something stupid.”
“No,” Frost replied to his surprised. The man had previously been aiming for peace but it somehow felt that the ship had sailed. He wanted to hurt people. But at the same time the man went out of his way not to kill the guards at the tower.
The herald walked away and a few minutes later came back and tossed three bloody unconscious bodies next to the bound men beneath the portcullis. Fortunately, they were all breathing. All that was left was for the elves to come down the hill.
CHAPTER 17
Frost believed Commander Grey when he said that the elves were unharmed, but he wasn’t going to make the mistake of blindly taking him at his word. He made that mistake with Raullon and it nearly got him killed. There was the matter of treatment.
Even though Commander Grey didn’t seem to have an issue with elves that didn’t mean his soldiers didn’t. Maybe they beat them, pulled their hair, tortured them, humiliated them. Just thinking of all the different things that might have happened to the elves in his absence caused his blood to boil.
He took a deep breath to calm himself as he envisioned all of the horrible things he’d do if they were harmed.
“Frost!” Lysandra waived excitedly as she came down the hill surrounded by solders. Several elf children jumped up in the rear of the wagon. That was also a good sign but could have just as
easily been because he didn’t want to deal with transporting slow children. “Can I?”
“Commander,” a knight nodded a Commander Grey.
“Let them go,” Commander Grey said in disbelief. “Are you boys fucking mental? Why’d you even ask?”
The soldiers scattered to the sides like a group of children eager to distance themselves from a broken vase. None of them even inched toward their weapons and several went as far as to hold their hands in the air.
Frost watched carefully for any tricks, but it seemed that none of them wanted to be involved in the situation. In fact, most of them even looked relieved to be done with it.
“Frost,” Lysandra said while pointing at the line of soldiers beneath the portcullis. “Explain yourself.”
“I was worried,” Frost said defensively. “Are you okay? Did any of them hurt you?”
“No,” Lysandra said irritably. “Commander Grey insisted that none of his men so much as touch us if they could help it. The only trouble was Ena who we bound up and tossed in the cart.”
“I’m so sorry,” Frost said while grabbing and squeezing his beautiful white-haired elf. “I shouldn’t have trusted them to keep their word.”
“Ahem,” Brynn tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me handsome. But are you going to introduce me?”
“Oh,” Frost wondered how to explain Brynn to the elves. “This is Lysandra, a high priestess.”
“A pleasure,” Lysandra bowed politely while glancing at Frost. “Ahem.”
“Lysandra, this is the Black Bard of Falion, Brynn the Butler,” Frost said. “Now that we’re all introduced…”
“And?” Brynn grabbed him by the collar and glared at him. The commander and several soldiers looked on nervously as the young woman handled him. “Say it.”