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The Fall of The Wolf (Historical Romance)

Page 9

by Lynn Coppersmith


  Eleta had heard reports of just such raids as he described. She shot an accusing glare at Rafe. He could easily read her unspoken message. She obviously felt that he was to blame for these crimes against her people. She turned back toward the youth and sighed heavily.

  “What is your name?” she asked quietly.

  “Thomas Thatcher,” the youth mumbled miserably.

  “How old are you, Thomas?”

  “I’m fifteen, ma’am. I’ll be sixteen next month.” he said quietly.

  “Are you the eldest here?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Jaime over at the end is just a month younger than me, but I’m the leader. Please don’t punish them, ma’am. This was all my idea.”

  Eleta subjected them all to another lengthy inspection. They were only boys, not yet men. They were also outnumbered by her guards. Anyone in their right mind would not have mounted such an attack with virtually no chance of success. It merely confirmed her opinion that their circumstances must be dire. She heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to Thomas.

  “Thomas, I find that I am in a merciful mood today. If you and your comrades will swear never to attack anyone like this again and never again to steal from others, I will pardon you all.”

  “Oh yes, your Majesty!” Thomas was nodding enthusiastically. “I swear that I would rather starve than to ever offend you again, ma’am.”

  Eleta glanced around at the others, and they were all nodding in agreement and also swearing their agreement. “Excellent! Rise, Thomas. I pardon you all.”

  “Oh thank you, ma’am. You are the most wonderful queen ever!”

  Eleta took his praise in stride and turned to her most trusted guardsman. “Sir Eric, feed these men and then have four of your men accompany them back to their village, along with half our provisions and coin.”

  Sir Eric frowned heavily. “But, your Majesty…”

  Whatever he had been about to say was silenced with an upraised hand from Eleta. She met his eye and tightened her lips. “Sir Eric, unless I am mistaken, you have planned our journey well, taking every conceivable occurrence into account, and you have brought along at least twice as much food and coin as we actually need. Am I correct?”

  Sir Eric swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am, but we shouldn’t reward these men for…”

  Eleta interrupted. “I assume you are still an excellent huntsman, or have your hunting skills deteriorated since the last time you served as my escort, Sir Eric?”

  The guardsman flushed from her backhanded compliment. “Yes, ma’am. I mean no, ma’am, I can hunt quite well,” he responded with a flustered frown.

  Rafe pressed a knuckle against his mouth to hide his grin as he watched the exchange. Eleta was absolutely adorable when she was being haughty and regal. Sir Eric was a heavily muscled giant who stood more than a foot taller than Eleta, but she somehow managed to appear much more confident and strong than he did while she questioned him. Rafe didn’t envy the guardsman, for he was clearly uncomfortable and wanting to avoid the queen’s disapproval. Still, Rafe could not fault Eleta for berating the man. She was neither rude nor unjust. She was simply firm and insistent that her orders be carried out exactly as she had given them, and Rafe admired that.

  Eleta continued with her queries. “So if our supplies run low, you should be able to forage for game and such, is that right, Sir Eric?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Eleta gave a satisfied nod. “Then I see no reason why we should not extend charity to my subjects who are sorely in need. Have your men gather the provisions and coin I have requested and accompany Thomas and these young men to their village. When they arrive, they are to ascertain what further help we can provide toward their sustenance through the upcoming winter and defense against future attacks. I shall expect a full report upon my return to the palace.”

  Sir Eric bowed before her, a flush riding high on his cheeks. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And Thomas?” Eleta turned back to the youth and waited until he met her eye. “Make sure you and your friends stay out of trouble in the future. I should be very disappointed if you do not, and I shall not be so forgiving in future.”

  Thomas nodded solemnly and ventured a smile. “Yes, ma’am. We will keep our pledge. And thank you, ma’am. Thank you for everything.”

  Eleta smiled graciously in return, and Rafe saw Thomas blush profusely. Eleta was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman any of them had ever seen, and Rafe was not surprised that her approval flustered the young men. It suddenly occurred to him that Eleta flustered all men, including him, a seasoned rake. Perhaps she really did not understand the effect she was having on him.

  Eleta signaled their dismissal and came to join Rafe once again. They stood side by side and watched in silence for a few minutes as the guards scrambled to carry out her orders. Finally, Eleta turned to Rafe and gave him a tight smile.

  “Your Grace, I must thank you for offering your protection during the attack,” she murmured. “It’s possible that you saved my life.”

  Rafe shrugged. “Any gentleman would have done the same, your Majesty. And as you heard Thomas admit, you were never in any real danger.”

  “True, but you did not know that at the time. Your actions were selfless and honorable. I must thank you.”

  Rafe felt inordinately pleased by her praise and he flushed. To hide his reddened cheeks, he executed a deep bow. “It was my pleasure, ma’am.”

  Eleta waited until he had straightened to face her once more. “It’s too bad that the attack was caused because of the plight of those poor young boys,” she needled.

  Rafe sighed and met her accusing stare. “Ma’am, I told you. I am not responsible for these raids. In fact, I wasn’t aware they were happening until you told me about them. However, I swear that I will investigate and get to the bottom of them, just as soon as you see fit to release me.”

  Eleta searched his eyes to ascertain the truth of the matter. After he had held her gaze unflinchingly for several moments, she nodded in reluctant acceptance of his word. “I certainly hope you are telling the truth, sir. Whoever is responsible is a black hearted devil!”

  They lapsed into silence once more. It occurred to Rafe that he had passed up an opportunity to escape during the skirmish. If he had chosen to slip away, it is quite likely that he would have succeeded. Still, he did not regret his actions. His first instinct had been to protect her, and he was not sorry that he had. If Eleta had been injured or worse, he would never have forgiven himself. Still, the thought that protecting her had been his first and instant reaction, above and beyond any other concerns including his own safety, was surprising. He had never before put someone else’s needs above his own, and it was unsettling. He did his best not to dwell on it.

  Once Thomas and his group had departed along with four of the guardsmen, Eleta and her entourage mounted to resume their own journey once again. For the rest of the day, they stopped only a couple of times to rest the horses and have a quick bite of food. As they climbed higher into the mountains, the air became colder. Several inches of snow covered the ground. Rafe grew increasingly worried about where they were headed, but he had no further chance to question the queen or to escape. Finally, in the late afternoon, they topped a rise, and a building loomed in front of them.

  Sir Eric signaled for a halt, and the riders gratefully dismounted. Once again, several guards came to escort Rafe. He walked behind the queen, taking in his surroundings with avid curiosity.

  They were atop a tall mountain, nestled among even higher peaks. The area was very remote. Rafe could not see a house, cottage or building of any sort except for the one in front of him. He peered up at the large structure, seeing that it was an oversized lodge, built into the side of the mountain. As he followed the queen inside, he noted that the interior was comfortable and luxuriously appointed. The ground floor was made up of several large rooms. There were plush rugs on the stone floors, abundant light streaming in through leaded glass windows, and expensiv
e but rustic furnishings everywhere he looked. He was led to a large parlor that overlooked the mountains. The heads of various great beasts adorned the walls, and a massive fireplace made of handsome stone played host to a warm fire.

  The queen paused and allowed the commander of the guard to remove her cloak. Then, she sank into a comfortable chair and motioned for Rafe to do the same. Several guards remained standing around them as the other guards hurried in and out, carrying various trunks from outside. He could hear them throughout the cabin, opening cabinets and doors, as the queen’s belongings were unpacked and put in their proper places. Several trips were made to the kitchen, and Rafe caught a whiff of food that was being prepared. His stomach growled as he watched steaming platters being carried from the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. He assumed there must be a dining room on the level above them.

  When all the preparations had been completed, the majority of the guards returned to their horses outside. The queen rose and led the way up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. Rafe followed in her wake, still surrounded by several of her guards. He enjoyed the sway of her hips as he walked behind her. She entered a large chamber, and Rafe came to an abrupt halt just inside the door. The last thing he had expected was to be led into a massive bedroom.

  One wall was entirely made up of windows with a set of doors that opened onto a balcony. The balcony ran along the full length of the room, and the view of the mountains was breathtaking. Near the window, there was a round dining table and two chairs. The table had been set with steaming platters of food and a large bottle of wine. Another wall held a massive stone fireplace. A fire crackled in the hearth, and more firewood had been stacked nearby. The hearth was nearly as high as his head, and the stone fireplace soared to a high ceiling crossed with beams of solid wood. Two low slung chairs sat facing the fireplace, padded with inviting cushions. In the corner, there was a huge copper bathtub, gleaming in the fading light from the windows. There was a dressing table between two large wardrobes along the wall.

  His eyes finally landed on the largest bed he had ever seen. It stood on a dais, dominating the room. The four posts were huge, each one carved from the trunk of a tree. The headboard was even more intricate, with cut out areas depicting a hunting scene. The aged wood glowed from years of polish. White satin sheets had been pulled back invitingly. There were two small tables on either side of the bed. There were also two silver candelabra with a dozen gleaming candles in each.

  The room was perfect for a tryst. There was absolutely everything one might want to seduce a lover, and Rafe blinked in confusion. He had never dreamed the queen was bringing him to a place like this. He turned a questioning gaze toward her just in time to see her give a signal to Sir Eric.

  Suddenly, his arms were seized by six burly men. Though he thrashed wildly, he was badly outnumbered by his captors. They wrestled him to the floor, and one of them pulled off his boots and stockings. A steel manacle was clasped onto his ankle, and he noticed that it was attached to a sturdy but light weight chain. The chain was attached to a large iron ring set firmly into the stone floor near the foot of the bed. Once the manacle was locked securely, the guards released him.

  Rafe surged to his feet with an ominous growl, and all the guards took a wary step backward. The men all stood glaring at each other until the queen cleared her throat to draw their attention.

  “That will be all,” she said to the commander of the guards. “Take your men and go, Sir Eric.”

  Sir Eric gave a signal, and the other guards knelt briefly before her and then quickly exited. Rafe could hear them trampling down the stairs and out of the lodge. The commander lingered, still staring at Rafe with obvious animosity.

  “Your Majesty, I would be happy to remain…to ensure your safety.”

  “That will not be necessary,” the queen said. Her eyes locked briefly with Rafe’s. “He will not harm me.” As she said the words, she knew they were true. “You may go, Sir Eric.” Her voice rang with authority and brooked no refusal.

  The commander’s hesitation was palpable, but he finally tore his eyes from Rafe and knelt before his queen, bowing his head reverently. “As you command, your Majesty. We shall await your signal.”

  She simply nodded and waved her hand in dismissal. The commander cast one last threatening scowl towards Rafe and then walked stiffly to the door.

  “Sir Eric,” the queen halted him.

  He turned a besotted look to the queen. “Yes, ma’am?”

  She gave him a kind smile and a regal nod. “Thank you. You have performed your duties very well indeed. I shall not forget your loyal service.”

  Sir Eric fairly glowed from her approval. He bowed deeply. “Thank you, ma’am. I remain your most humble servant.” Without further comment, he exited the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Once again, it was clear to Rafe that the commander was hopelessly in love with the queen, and Rafe felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor besotted fool. The realization that he himself was not immune to her charms terrified Rafe. Heaven help him if he should fall completely under her spell! She was engaged to his enemy, and she would never be his. He had to find some way to escape.

  Rafe could hear the guards mounting their horses and the sounds of them riding away. Within a short while, there was utter quiet. They were completely alone…just the two of them…in the middle of nowhere…in a perfect lover’s hideaway. The minutes ticked by, as they stared at one another. Rafe could not have been more dumbfounded, and it showed on his face.

  Eleta turned to the fireplace. She added another log and then stretched her hands out toward the fire. Within minutes, its warmth began to suffuse the room. Still Rafe had neither moved nor spoken.

  “Perhaps you would like to eat something,” Eleta suggested. “You must be starving.”

  At the mention of food, Rafe’s stomach gave a loud growl, and he frowned fiercely. He felt like a hound on a leash that readily responded to her suggestions. The thought infuriated him.

  “What I would like is an explanation,” he gritted between clenched teeth.

  Eleta shivered from the ferocity of his expression. He truly did look like a wolf at the moment. She unbuttoned the jacket of her riding habit and laid it aside as she watched him. Rafe tested the chain and found it to be sound. He noticed that it was long enough to reach anywhere in the room and even out onto the balcony. He knelt on the floor and pulled against the iron ring with all his strength. His muscles bulged and rippled, and the tendons stood out in his neck as he pulled and strained. The ring wouldn’t budge. He tested the manacle around his ankle. That too was solid, secured with a heavy iron lock. He rose and stalked toward her.

  It took every ounce of effort not to run. Eleta felt the heat of his gaze as he scanned her body. Without the fitted jacket, the bodice of her riding habit was even more revealing than her previous gowns had been. The garment had been tailored to fit so tightly that her breasts were pushed high. The tempting fullness was displayed in such a way that a man would be hard pressed not to look…or touch. Rafe was far from immune to the lure, and his eyes smoldered as they scanned her body boldly, almost insultingly. When his eyes finally met hers once more, his glare was menacing, and his voice was a low, angry growl.

  “What game are you playing at, your Majesty?”

  In an effort to sooth his anger, Eleta gave him a sweet smile. “I should be happy to explain everything over dinner. I’m famished, and our food is growing colder by the minute.”

  She crossed to the table and gave him an expectant look. He wanted to refuse, but his stomach gave an even louder growl. The smells wafting up from the steaming platters caused his mouth to start watering. His lips twitched into an angry frown, but he consented to join her. As he walked toward her, the chain attached to his ankle rattled, and his expression became even more thunderous than before. He pinned her with an accusing glare, but she simply returned his gaze with a serene smile.

  A lifetime of culture was d
eeply ingrained. Out of habit he pulled back her chair. He bowed deeply to her as he waited for her to sit.

  “Your majesty,” he growled mockingly.

  Eleta accepted the proffered seat with a regal nod. As she sat down, Rafe remained behind her, staring down at her. From his position, he had an enticing view of her breasts and the shadowed valley between them. As much as he wished to be immune to her, he could not resist savoring the sight. Once again, Eleta was well aware of where his eyes were trained. She leaned forward to reach for the wine, purposely exposing herself further to his hungry gaze. She was gratified to hear a strangled groan from behind her. Her lessons had not been in vain, even if the wave of heat caused by his stare was a novelty to her.

  Rafe consented to sit in the other chair. He watched impatiently as the queen poured wine into both of their goblets. She served his plate with an assortment of delicious foods. She filled her own dish with smaller portions and picked up her fork to begin eating. The meal commenced, and they ate in silence for a few minutes.

  The silence stretched out as they studied each other. Rafe watched as she opened her mouth to take a bite of food. Seeing her luscious lips part and close around the fork sent a jolt of desire into the pit of his belly. Eleta could not tear her gaze from his strong hands as he sliced his roast beef. The thought of what those hands would do to her very soon made her shiver with awareness. Rafe did not miss the telltale shiver, and his eyes locked with hers. Stark desire leapt in the emerald depths of his eyes. He subjected her bosom to another lingering inspection while Eleta wished she hadn’t built the fire quite so high. As the meal progressed, their hunger for food was satisfied, but their other appetites only increased.

  Rafe took a gulp of his wine and reminded himself for the thousandth time that she was the queen. As such, she was forbidden fruit. He would do well to remember that. As much as he may desire her, everyone knew that the Queen of Aglaia always remained true to her chosen prince. There had to be some other explanation for why he was here and he was bound and determined to get to the bottom of the mystery as soon as possible. She had said she needed his help. He would lend assistance in any way he could, and then he would be on his way.

 

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