My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel

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My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel Page 17

by Alexis Morgan


  Her heart, though, wanted Gideon—no one else. There was safety to be found within the captain’s strong arms where Olaf could never hurt her. If he was there, she would sleep through the night without worrying about who might come charging through her door.

  Soon, she reminded herself. The captain would be there soon with his fierce nature and gentle touch. With that thought to hold on to, she could endure anything.

  “My lady, is something wrong?”

  “I’m fine.” Merewen straightened up, drawing on her newly formed resolve, and held up the empty tray. “Olaf didn’t think I brought his food fast enough, and he wants fresh.”

  Ellie snatched the tray out of Merewen’s hands. “Give me that tray. I’ll show that addlepated fool what fresh is.”

  As entertaining as it might be to see the older woman take on Olaf, now was not the time, and it would likely only make things worse for Merewen.

  Merewen managed a placating smile and held her hand out for the tray. “I promise this will be the last time he makes such demands on you—or on me. Let me refill this and get another pitcher of wine for him as well. After I deliver it to his table, I will retire for the evening.”

  She gave Ellie a hard look. “You should do the same. Remember to lock the doors.”

  The other woman stared at Merewen, her eyes narrowed. “If you need help with whatever you have planned, my lady, you need only ask.”

  “Thank you, Ellie. Your loyalty means much to me, and I need to ensure you and your staff stay safe. Sending you out there would only further provoke Olaf’s uncertain temper.”

  When they had the tray loaded again, Ellie asked, “Do you want me to have one of the boys carry the tray for you?”

  “No, Olaf is expecting me.”

  It would be cowardly to send someone in her place and could endanger her substitute. Bracing herself for whatever might come next, she picked up the heavily laden tray and headed back to where her tormentor waited.

  This time Olaf accepted his dinner without comment. Instead, his eyes did all the talking. Despite her being fully clothed, she felt as if he’d stripped her bare right there in the great hall. More and more, she feared that he’d slipped his leash and would ignore her uncle’s warnings to leave her unsullied.

  It was well past the hour for her to withdraw. If she hurried, she could check on Alina again before retreating to her own room. And if the gods were listening, Gideon would arrive in time to lead his warriors in saving her people.

  Chapter 15

  Lady Alina was sitting near the fire in her room doing needlework when Merewen arrived. She looked up with a small smile when Magda opened the door to let her in.

  “Merewen, I didn’t expect to see you again tonight.”

  The warmth from the fire banished a little of the chill that had been haunting Merewen since encountering Olaf. “I wanted to see if you were feeling better.”

  Alina set her embroidery aside. “Thanks be to you, I am much better. The bath and the herbs you sent up were most soothing.”

  “I am glad they helped. Most of my patients have four legs, but people are not so different.”

  To her surprise, Alina laughed. “So you gave me the same soap and herbs that you use on your horses? I shall be sure to let you know if I get any strange urges to eat grass or sleep in the stable.”

  She returned Alina’s smile. “Perhaps I should have had Ellie send up a bag of oats for your dinner.”

  Seeing her aunt looking decidedly happier made the risk Merewen had taken for her worth any possible cost to herself. She could not remember the last time she’d seen Alina look so content, but then she rarely saw her aunt at all when Fagan was in residence.

  His absence had to be a godsend for Alina. Merewen wasn’t the only one who rarely had the opportunity to sleep without fear stalking through her dreams. Well, except that tonight would not be peaceful for anyone within the keep.

  Merewen would issue one more warning and then return to her rooms. Tonight, despite her uncle’s orders, she would barricade her door until the guards at the gate came to say she was needed.

  “Alina, when I leave, make sure to bar your door.”

  As soon as the words were out, her aunt was up and following her to the door. “Merewen, wait.”

  Alina surprised her by merely hugging her instead of asking questions. “Stay safe.”

  She returned the embrace, appreciating her aunt’s concern. “I’ll do my best.”

  As she slipped out the door, Merewen paused. “You might want to let Magda sleep here with you.”

  “I will do that. Won’t you stay with us as well?”

  “No, I’m sorry, but I cannot. In fact, I fear I’ve tarried too long as it is.”

  Out in the hallway, Merewen remained close to the door until she heard the bar slide into place. Relieved her aunt had taken her warning seriously, she retreated to her own room.

  And she immediately regretted not having accepted Lady Alina’s invitation.

  Olaf had positioned himself in a doorway down the hall from her room where he couldn’t be seen until she was almost within reach.

  “It’s about time you got here. Once again you have disobeyed me.”

  And that obviously pleased him. He licked his lips as he stared at her, sending a wave of revulsion flooding through Merewen’s veins. The twisted expression on his face was almost inhuman, showing him for the monster he’d become.

  He stepped toward her, his hands out with his fingers curled like talons. She feinted as if to run for the stairs, praying he would lunge after her in that direction instead of blocking the entrance to her room. When he did, she immediately spun back to throw open her door. She dove inside and slammed it shut.

  Her uncle had ordered the bar removed the first time she’d tried to avoid his punishment by locking herself inside. All she could do was try to brace her body against the door and hope she could keep Olaf from forcing his way inside.

  It was hopeless, considering he outweighed her by nearly double. She screamed for help, hoping to draw Duncan or one of the other warriors to her aid. Even if they were to come running, Olaf would still have time to do her great harm before they arrived.

  “Let me in, Merewen. You’re only making this worse for yourself.”

  He gave the door a powerful shove, forcing it open far enough to get his foot in to block it from closing again.

  “Get out, Olaf. You will regret your actions if you come in here.”

  At least he would if she managed to get her hands on her knife. Considering the distance between the door and the pillows on her bed, it was doubtful that she’d make it.

  “We both know how this is going to end, Merewen.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “But to be fair, I’ll give you a chance to change the outcome.”

  “How would I do that?” she asked, more to stall for time than because she actually wanted to hear his offer.

  “I usually like my women to have more meat on their bones and to wear dresses rather than those tunics and trousers you prefer. I’m sure you can make me forget about your shortcomings if you try hard enough.”

  Only sheer stubbornness was keeping her from collapsing in panic. He shoved the door open another few inches. Another push like that one and he’d be inside. Yet it wasn’t in her to give up.

  “My uncle ordered that I was to remain untouched. We both know he’s not a man to be crossed.”

  “Don’t you worry about that.” He gave another shove. “There are plenty of ways I can bed you without destroying your value to the duke and your uncle.”

  He slacked off the door a little and started whispering all the possibilities. Merewen’s stomach heaved at the pictures he painted. He’d obviously given this a lot of thought. She reset her feet and waited for the next onslaught, knowing it would be coming as soon as he tired of playing his games.

  The next push cost her the small amount of ground she’d regained and then some. It wouldn’t take much more effort
on his part to break through her defenses. Time was running out, and all hope of a reprieve was fading away.

  “Let me in, Merewen, or I’ll start my evening’s entertainment with your aunt. After all that she has suffered at the hands of your uncle, there’s not much chance of her being of much use to the duke. That makes her fair game.”

  Thank the gods that Alina had barricaded herself in her room. If she had been truly at risk, Merewen would have given up the battle rather than let the woman suffer in her place.

  He gave one more mighty heave, and Merewen found herself flying across the floor. The door slammed against the wall as Olaf plunged into the room. Before he could regain full control of his attack, Merewen threw herself on the bed.

  She fumbled under the pillows, searching for her knife. She managed to wrap her fingers around the hilt just as Olaf dove on top of her, pushing her down into the blankets hard enough to make it all but impossible to breathe.

  His big body was too heavy for her to shove off, but neither would she surrender.

  His breath, hot and foul, feathered over the back of her neck and face. “I have waited far too long for this. You always act as if you’re too good for me, but you’re little better than a stable hand.”

  He rolled to the side, still keeping her pinned in place with the weight of his leg as his hand roamed free. Her hand holding the knife was trapped underneath her body, but eventually he would make a mistake.

  When that happened, she would attack and, by the grace of the gods, he would bleed.

  Gideon tasted Merewen’s fear, and her pain pounded in his ears, growing worse by the second. Her terror formed a volatile mix with his fury, making it hard to focus long enough to reach her.

  With the same technique they’d used to return Merewen to the safety of her room, Gideon slung a coil of rope over his shoulder and then stretched a leather strap between his hands as he held his arms over his head. Because of his larger size, Scim had just enough strength to lift Gideon to the top of the palisade. From there, Gideon repelled down to the ground.

  He was about to toss the hook on the end of his rope up to catch the edge of the balcony of her room when she screamed a second time. Even at his fastest, he’d unlikely be able to climb up in time if she was in imminent danger.

  “Scim, help her!”

  The gyrfalcon shrieked in challenge and dove straight toward her open window. With luck, the bird could position himself to do serious damage to Merewen’s attacker with his claws and beak, distracting the bastard long enough for Gideon to join the fray.

  A deep bellow came from the room above as Gideon spun the hook in a circle several times, building up speed with each pass. Finally with a flick of his wrist, he sent it soaring up to catch on the low wall surrounding the balcony off Merewen’s room.

  Hand over hand, his feet braced on the wall, he climbed upward, hoping and praying to the gods to let him get to her in time. When he pulled himself up and over to land on the balcony itself, he drew both his sword and favorite dirk and charged into the room to defend his lady.

  Inside was a scene out of the deepest hells of the netherworld. A brute of a man lay sprawled atop Merewen, and their legs and arms were twined in a tangled knot.

  Scim’s attack had done some damage, but there was little more he could do within the confined space of the canopy that arched over the bed frame. Gideon could only hope the raptor had managed to slow down the assault on Lady Merewen, at least enough to prevent her from being—

  No! He couldn’t think past that possibility. That this beast would even think of robbing Merewen of her innocence was beyond bearing. The bastard was already dead. Whether his passing would be swift or piece by piece would be determined by how badly he’d hurt her.

  Two steps farther into the room, he tasted the scent of blood in the air, taking him from rational to berserk between one heartbeat and the next. Gideon sheathed his knife and grabbed the man by the back of the collar. He used all of his god-enhanced strength to fling the vermin off the bed, sending him bouncing across the floor to land in a broken heap next to the still-open door.

  The man was slow to move, but he was already scrambling to his feet. Gideon positioned himself between Merewen and her attacker, his sword up and ready to split his foe from groin to gullet. It didn’t take Fagan’s man long to assess the situation. He stared past Gideon toward Merewen, his lip curled up in a sneer.

  “So this is the reason you spend so much time out on the grasslands. Your uncle will not appreciate knowing you’ve taken a lover, not when Duke Keirthan has plans for you.”

  Gideon entered the conversation. “Hold your tongue.”

  He ignored Gideon’s order, focusing instead on Merewen.

  “Fagan will kill you himself for your slatternly ways. Your actions will bring ruin down upon us all. Keirthan won’t stop until everything you hold dear is dead or destroyed if you’ve given yourself to this knave.”

  Gideon wouldn’t allow the fool to further berate Merewen, especially when the charges were unfounded. When he started forward, ready to cut out the man’s tongue if that was what it took to silence him, the man broke and ran.

  He charged down the hall, sounding the alarm.

  Rather than give immediate chase, Gideon asked, “Lady Merewen, are you harmed? Did he—?”

  Once again Gideon couldn’t pull together the words and could only repeat, “Did he?”

  Her head wobbled from side to side, but he wasn’t sure if she was really answering him or if she was too numb to understand what he was really asking. Her tunic was torn and covered in a spray of blood drops, but otherwise her clothing appeared to be intact.

  That gave him hope that he’d arrived in time.

  Then he noticed the bloody knife in her hand. He tried to recall her attacker’s condition. Yes, Scim had left deep claw marks on the man’s face, but there had also been a wound on the side of his shoulder that still dripped blood. For the first time, Gideon could breathe. His lady had put up a good fight of her own.

  But now wasn’t the time for congratulations. Her attacker almost certainly had to be Olaf, the captain of Fagan’s guard. No doubt he’d earned that position by his skill with a blade. That was fine with Gideon. The two of them would definitely cross weapons over Olaf’s attack on Merewen. He hoped the man survived the initial clash of swords, because he wanted the villain to see his death reflected in Gideon’s eyes.

  Already footsteps were approaching. Gideon prepared to face a second foe when he recognized the voice calling Merewen’s name. It was Duncan.

  “Lady Merewen!”

  The other warrior skidded to a stop in the doorway. It didn’t take him long to assess the situation or Gideon’s mood.

  “Captain, how is Lady Merewen?”

  “She will be fine.” He glanced at her again to reassure himself that was true. “How are things below?”

  Duncan’s expression was grim. “I was about to fetch Merewen to answer the farmer’s call when Olaf charged through the hall, screaming the keep was under attack. I left Murdoch and Averel at the gate and came here to make sure the lady was safe.”

  Gideon wasn’t about to let her out of this room. She’d barely escaped grave injury once already. He would not risk her safety again.

  “The plan has changed. She stays here.”

  With him. Barring that, perhaps he could entrust her care to her aunt while the battle raged below. The bed creaked behind him, warning him that Merewen was on the move. He turned around just as she pushed herself up to her feet.

  “Captain, I will decide for myself what I should do or where I’d best serve my people. If I am not with you, there’s almost no chance that those loyal to me will surrender. I won’t have them die while I cower in safety.”

  Merewen drew herself up to her full height as if shrugging off the terror of her attack. “Unless we can convince the guards to open the gate, it will only be harder to get Kane into the keep.”

  She met each man’
s gaze head-on as if daring them to argue. When neither one did, she continued. “I’ll change clothes first, so they won’t think you’ve harmed me. Duncan, tell my people I will come down shortly.”

  Duncan knew marching orders when he heard them, but nonetheless said, “Captain?”

  Gideon hated to admit it, but she was right. They needed Kane, and perhaps it would actually help her to get past the shock of having been attacked if she took an active role in retaking control of her home.

  He shrugged. “Do as she says. I’ll remain here to ensure her safety.”

  Duncan bowed his head to Merewen and disappeared back down the hallway. Gideon closed the door and then held out his arms to Merewen, hoping she would accept the offer. She didn’t hesitate, collapsing against his chest and holding on with all her strength.

  Gideon stroked her back, pleased that she’d accept his touch when she’d been so recently brutalized by a man. Time was running short, but he’d stand there and hold her as long as she needed him.

  “Thank you for coming, Gideon, and for sending your avatar. My knife hand was trapped underneath Olaf. Until Scim attacked him, I couldn’t work it free.”

  He brushed a lock of her hair back from her face. “You’re a fighter, my lady. You would have found a way.”

  She leaned into his touch and sighed. “We must go before Olaf causes even more trouble.”

  Gideon let her see only a small portion of his fury. “I will avenge your honor, Merewen.”

  She chewed her lower lip but nodded. “Olaf is my uncle’s equal with a sword, Gideon.”

  He liked that she worried about him. “The gods decreed that I am your champion, Merewen. I almost failed in that duty, but I will not do so again.”

  She wasn’t done arguing. “Even the poorest fighter gets lucky sometimes.”

  “True, but even if Olaf were to best me, he has never fought the likes of Lord Kane. He will die either way, but if he faces Kane, he will pray for death long before it comes for him.”

 

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