by Judith Post
"Will you help me rule my serfdom? Build it into something as strong and as good as this land?"
"That, I'd do gladly. If I decide you'd make a good leader."
Her dark eyes flashed fire. "I have to prove myself to you?"
"You're the one who attacked us." Brom didn't give an inch. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Lothar and Christian.
She took a deep breath, fighting to calm herself. "Will I be guaranteed safety if I come to you?"
"If you come meaning no harm."
It was her turn to challenge him. "Come ride with me then. You have my word, I won't force the issue, and I'll pledge to be a good wife to you, just as I intended to be to Christian. But I will have you. It's our fates."
Brom was interested, Christian could tell. Brom turned to him. "Sire?"
Christian offered him his hand. Brom took it. They gripped tightly. "I've never considered you a servant or only a general. You're my friend. Do as you will. If this is your destiny, I'm happy for you."
"If I leave here?"
Christian had never imagined that could happen, but then he'd never imagined that his lands were filled with witches. "If you choose her, our lands bump one another. We can visit often."
Brom gave a quick nod. He glanced at the large, black dragon waiting at his side. "This is not how I pictured my future or yours."
Christian smiled. "Mother tried to warn us. Winning was more complicated than choosing sides this time. It might mean that there'll be a double wedding, and you'll rule your own serfdom."
"Along with my bride," Brom hurried to add.
Christian sighed and twined his arm around Brina's waist. "Women are not the quiet creatures we expected them to be, but that's a plus too, don't you think?"
Brom looked down at the exotic woman who was determined to claim him. He gave a quick nod. "I think things are just getting interesting." And when Lothar lowered his body for Brom to mount, Brom scrambled aboard. "If you want a dragon to ride, I'll make sure you get one."
Christian laughed. "I'll take you up on that. Now, go. Get to know your lady. And we'll make plans from there."
Brina snuggled against him as Brom and Lothar soared into the sky, followed by Ignisia. "You've lost your general. You know that, don't you?"
Christian gave a slow nod. "But this is a happy ending, one we can rejoice in. Our land is safe, and Brom's will prosper. We'll be good neighbors."
The rest of the dragons stretched their wings and flew back to Ignisia's serfdom. Christian and the witches watched them until they were out of sight. Then Christian went to the Keep and opened its doors. "The threat's over. You can return to your homes again."
When Jarman and Aldith came to visit him that night, he told them the same thing. And when Brom returned, late the next morning, Brom guaranteed it.
Christian studied his friend. "You look tired. Did you get any sleep last night?"
Brom grinned. "Not a bit, and Ignisia and I want you to hurry our weddings. The sooner, the better."
Christian laughed. He turned to his mother and Cook. "Did you hear that? It's time. Brom and I are ready to claim our brides."
A flush crept up Brom's neck, and Christian was certain that his general had already claimed his. Or vice versa. And he was damned good and ready to claim his own.
Lone Drifter
The Third Christian & Brina Novella
A Lunch Hour Read
by
Judith Post
Thank you to:
Lauren Abramo, my kind, wonderful agent
Yassine Belkacemi, the e-book wizard,
& Michael Prete for his wonderful covers
Christian pulled the fur-lined comforter up around his shoulders. A log popped in the fireplace, but the room was cold. Castles proved drafty, no matter how thick their stone walls. He'd had a fireplace installed in the room of his mother—Lady Enid—too. Extravagant and unusual, maybe, but he was known for being odd. Brina wiggled to spoon closer for warmth, and he smiled. They were finally wed. He'd wanted her the minute he saw her.
He lay still, listening to her breathe, inhaling the scent of her honey-gold hair. He loved everything about his wife and witch. He cracked the heavy drapes that surrounded their bed. Rays of sunlight peeked through the wood shutters, barred at the narrow window. He needed to get up. People would be waking in the Great Room. There was always something to attend to.
He slid out of bed as quietly as he could and tossed another log on the fire. Then he quickly pulled a tunic and pants over his underclothes. He didn't finish dressing until he stood in the hallway. He didn't want to wake Brina. The heavy tapestries draped on the stone walls helped break the chill, but not enough. He clamoured down the stairs to see who was up and about.
Snores came from under furs and blankets in the Great Hall. He went down the next set of stone stairs to the kitchen in the castle's basement. He was surprised to find Cook stirring porridge for Brom and Jarman, both seated at the work table where she usually scrubbed vegetables. Cook had a name, of course, but if he used it, she threatened him with her wooden spoon. From the time he was a toddler, barely able to walk enough to pester her, he'd called her Cook, and she considered it an endearment. There was no reason to change now, especially if he valued staying in one piece.
He frowned at his friends. They didn't ride to his castle for free breakfast. To see them this early in the day meant trouble.
Christian walked to a high window and opened its shutter a crack. He tilted his head to look skyward, and sure enough, there was Brom's dragon, circling a turret. "What causes you to leave your serfdom to visit mine?" He latched the shutter and came to join them at the table.
Brom and Jarman exchanged glances. Jarman was the first to speak. "It seems that most of your problems begin in the forest you so kindly granted us as a home. That wasn't on purpose, was it? We assumed it was an act of friendship."
Christian smiled. The vampire had a way with words. It was always entertaining to see him. "My forest was peaceful until you settled there. Maybe vampires invite trouble."
"Hardly." Jarman stood to help Cook carry her heavy tray. After all, Nesta didn't just run Christian's kitchen, she was also a powerful, earth witch. When they battled, she stood beside them on the fortress wall, and Jarman had grown fond of her. For all his fangs, Jarman had a soft spot for mortals. That's why he and his band enjoyed living in Christian's forest and feeding off deer and animals.
Christian tore off a chunk of black bread and washed it down with ale. A peasant's breakfast, but he liked it. "And you, Brom? Are you concerned about my forest?"
Brom raised black eyebrows and pierced him with a dark gaze. "I have enough work, repopulating my lands. Someone's poaching in my forest too. Everyone knows those two woods are off limits. Yours, for vampires. Mine, for dragons. There are plentiful places for hunting elsewhere. Our serfs are well treated. There's no reason to trespass."
Christian frowned. "Why would a peasant risk either of those places? If a dragon found him, he'd be eaten. If Jarman or one of his vampires came upon him…." He hesitated and looked at Jarman. "What would you do with him?"
Jarman shrugged. "Probably play with him, a little cat and mouse, and then bring him to you. None of us can tolerate the taste of human blood."
Cook interrupted. "Rumor in the village says a giant beast is stalking outside the walls at night."
"What kind of beast?" Christian asked.
Cook shook her head. "No one's foolish enough to find out."
Brom emptied his bowl and pushed it aside. "Every night? Is the beast looking for a way into the villages?"
Christian had an eight-foot, stone wall built to circle his peoples' huts. It was his first line of defense, followed by a high wall that circled his castle. Not that either had helped deter the vampire army or dragons. Brom's fortress was surrounded by stone walls, but his villages were only protected by a six-foot, wooden fence—an oversight of his predecessor that he was working to remedy.
Christian finished his ale and went for another. He brought tankards for Brom and Jarman too. "Has anyone been harmed? Or are only animals hunted?"
"Big animals—deer and bear." Jarman glanced up as a young woman entered the kitchen to begin work for the day. He smiled. "She has hair the color of my Emma's—a deep, rich auburn."
"Your Emma?" Brom leaned forward on his elbows. "Is this the fetching witch you were telling us about?"
Jarman nodded. "The one I met at summer solstice. She and her sister live in the next serfdom. Both witches." He frowned. "I worry about that. Their lord, like most, fears magic. If he discovered theirs, he'd have them burned."
"Then why not make an honest woman of her and marry her?" Brom asked. "Build a little hut in the forest and make a witch's garden outside the kitchen door?"
Jarman grimaced. "I would, in a minute, if her sister would come with her. But her sister refuses, doesn't approve of vampires. Won't come near us except at solstice. And Emma won't leave her on her own."
Christian shook his head. "She'd be better off with a vampire. If the girl marries and her husband lets it slip that she has magic, she'll be killed. They'd be safer in the woods with you."
Jarman thrummed his fingers on the wooden table. Christian's words only worried him more.
"Maybe you should play matchmaker," Brom said. "A wandering minstrel has been going from land to land. Reputed to be a scribe too. Handsome devil, from what I've heard. If Emma's sister fell for him, perhaps we could convince him to settle in one of our serfdoms."
Christian nodded. "I'd give a scribe free housing and pay him well to work for me."
"Is this true?" Jarman rubbed his chin, already plotting, Christian could tell. "Where is he now, Brom?"
Brom grinned. "I believe he's on the way to Christian's gate. Lothar flew over him on my way here."
"I have to meet him." Jarman started for the door, but Christian stopped him.
"What about our forest? What about Brom's lands?"
"I've given you fair warning. You two figure something out. I'll bring the minstrel back with me."
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Brom pointed to sunbeams filtering into the room. "It was dark when we came here. It's daylight now."
Jarman halted at the door. "Damn! It's been gray and gloomy for the last few weeks. Why does the sun have to show itself today?"
Cook went up the steps that led to the courtyard and called back, "The clouds are coming. It will be gloomy soon enough."
Jarman paced. "But who knows where the man might go? I need to talk to him."
"No worries," came a voice from the archway. One of Christian's guards led a man, dressed in a thick, wool cape, into the room. He reminded Christian of a Viking with his blond hair and powerful build. "This is Thurstan, minstrel, asking for you."
Christian's brows rose. Thurstan looked like no minstrel he'd seen before.
Jarman was at the scribe's side before Christian saw him move. Vampires were like that, and he doubted he'd ever get used to it. "Dear friend, welcome to Christian's lands! We're overjoyed to meet you."
The guard's brows rose and he looked at Christian.
Christian shrugged. "You've spent time with Jarman. You know how he is."
With a grin, the guard left them.
Thurstan frowned. "Are all of your servants on such friendly footing, my lord?"
"Jarman's no servant. He's an ally."
Brom came to greet the man too. "Christian isn't the typical lord, and he'll probably give you a lecture about using his title. But he's in dire need of a scribe and was going to search you out himself before you arrived here."
Thurstan scowled, taken aback. "I've never been welcomed so warmly. Most people mistrust me when I visit their villages."
The sound of footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Christian looked up to see Brina approaching. His heart always lightened at the sight of her.
Brina stopped and blinked at the men in Cook's basement kitchen. Her saucer-sized blue eyes narrowed when she saw Brom. "Your dragon settled on a rampart wall. The guards are fussing over him, and he's blowing smoke rings to entertain them."
Brom laughed. "Lothar loves attention!"
Thurstan visibly blanched, and Jarman hurried to reassure him. "Brom and Ignisia live in the next serfdom with their scaled pets. No dragons here."
"Except to visit." Brina went to stand by the fire for warmth. "Lothar kept bumping my bedroom shutters with his snout until he woke me."
Brom grimaced. "Sorry, Ignisia hates it when he does that."
"I'm sure she does." Brina laughed. She went to give Cook a good-morning hug. "I'll let you men attend to your business. I'll carry a tray up to Lady Enid's room and eat with her there."
The women busied themselves, loading food on a tray, and soon Brina left them.
Christian motioned for Thurstan to join them at the wooden table. As they settled around it, Jarman made sure to seat himself beside the scribe.
Thurstan looked around the table in surprise. "I've always been considered tall, but you three tower over me. Most people find my build intimidating, but you have the strong, solid build of warriors. I'm thinking you've fought fierce battles that I could put to song?" He took a deep breath. "I'd be happy to immortalize your deeds if I might spend a fortnight in your serfdom."
"That's what I want to talk to you about," Christian said. "My mother and I can read and write, so can Brom and Jarman. But Brom left me to marry and become lord of the neighboring lands."
"Ignisia is well-schooled too," Brom added with pride.
"Yes," Christian agreed. "Brom's wife has many talents."
Jarman laughed, but stopped abruptly at Brom's scowl. "A private joke, sorry."
Thurstan jerked when he noticed Jarman's fangs—retracted at the moment—but definitely vampire.
Christian noticed and sighed. "As you see, my second ally happens to be a vampire, not available during the day when most people conduct business. We're a bit of an odd area, and there are mortals who refuse to come here. I've had a wretched time trying to find skilled tradesmen. Brom and Ignisia have their dragons, and I have my witches and vampires, but we're all dedicated to protecting our people, so you'd be perfectly safe."
Thurstan sat, silent, for a moment. "Are all of your lands filled with vampires?" he asked Christian.
"No, Jarman's pack lives in one forest, given to them by me. The rest of my lands are open."
"And villagers aren't punished for poaching?"
Christian glanced at Cook. "Game is plentiful, and my guards are expert marksmen. We've never been short of whatever Cook needs."
"You have no name?" Thurstan asked the woman, bustling in the background.
She stopped and stared at him. "I'm Nesta to everyone else, including you, if you stay, but I'll always be Cook to my Christian."
Thurstan blinked in surprise. Long lashes framed hazel eyes. He was, indeed, as good-looking as Brom had mentioned. "This is a strange serfdom, indeed, but I'd be grateful to linger a while."
"Why a while?" Christian asked. "If you stay, I'll grant you a hut and pay you for your services."
Thurstan gave a sharp shake of his head. "I never settle. It's not in my nature. I grow restless and feel the need to move on."
Christian opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Instead, he smiled. "Then you should stay in the castle with us, and I'll introduce you to my people, so that you can see that my lands might tempt you."
"A wonderful idea!" Jarman sprang to his feet. "You should prepare a dinner to introduce him properly. And if it would please you, I can bring two guests for him to meet, and Brom can bring Ignisia."
Cook turned to glower at him, but Brina and Lady Enid entered the kitchen with their empty tray, and Lady Enid beamed. "We'll help Cook prepare the meal. We haven't had a special occasion for too long. For such a short month, February grows tiresome. This will be a treat."
Jarman stalked to the shutters and
opened them slightly, standing to one side. Gray clouds tumbled across the sky. The sun had disappeared for another day. "Excellent!" He started up the shallow stairs that led to the courtyard. "I'll return here at eight."
Brom grimaced. "Aren't you rushing things? What if your lady is unavailable this evening?"
"For me?" Jarman laughed. "Vampires are mesmerizing, didn't you notice?"
He ducked out the door, and Brom shook his head. "That man is entirely too conceited."
Brina patted him on the shoulder on her way to the pantry. "Not one of you three lacks confidence. Why should you?" She turned to study Thurstan, and her expression became concerned. "You're more of a poet, though, aren't you? Not shy, but solitary?"
He ran a hand through his tousled, blond hair. "I tend to be a loner. Being with others proves difficult for me at times."
Cook put a hand to her breast. "Poor dear, do you have a family? Someone who claims you?"
His expression took on a pinched look. "I did once. No more."
"You lost them?" Brina's voice cracked. Her mother had been killed, as a witch, and her father had to flee the village during the reign of Christian's uncle. She'd been left on the steps of the kitchen, and Cook, along with other servants, had raised her as their own. It was only luck that her father had joined Jarman's pack and returned to rescue her from the vampire army, descending on Christian's kingdom. And it was pure luck that Christian had—literally—stumbled upon her first.
Thurstan looked away, toward the row of dried herbs and garlic, dangling from the ceiling beams. "They drove me away. I'm not welcome anymore."
Lady Enid made a muffled sound. Her gaze went to Christian. "In that case, we have to welcome him properly."
Christian shook his head. "Yes, Mother." He knew better than to argue with the three most powerful women in his life. When Brina, Cook, and Lady Enid teamed together, he'd be a fool to disagree. "I'll leave it in your capable hands. And for us…" He turned to Brom. "Let's show our new scribe to a room and help him feel at home. Then I'll walk with you to your dragon."