The commanders desire, p.14
The Commander's Desire, page 14
Your King, and brother, Richard.
Elwytha felt shaken. A witness found? A hunter had seen the Commander kill Thor? Her breaths came too quickly, and she felt she might faint.
“Princess?” The Prince still watched her, his eyes cold. “What does your brother plot?”
She gasped, and quickly rolled up the parchment. She met his black eyes. “He plots nothing. He merely records …”
“A witness.” His lip curled. “A lie. But you know that, don’t you, Princess?”
“What?” Elwytha’s hand trembled.
“Your brother lies to you.” The Prince’s words sounded hard now, and sharp. “In what plot would he have you partake? What treachery? Speak now, and all will go well with you.”
Elwytha stepped back. “The only treachery I see is yours, Prince, plotting the assassination of Thor! I’ll believe no word that you or the Commander speak to me, ever again.”
She turned to flee, but the Prince sprang from his throne, light as a cat, and caught her wrist. His purple edged mantle billowed up in a menacing black cloud behind his shoulders, and then settled. Alarmed, she stared up at him. Just as quickly, however, he released her. He hissed, “Speak truth now, Princess, or you will invite death upon your head and the King’s, as well.”
“The Commander isn’t rash.” From nowhere, this thought erupted from her mind and past her lips.
The Prince’s eyes narrowed. “No, he is not. And I did not order Thor’s assassination.”
For all of his games and sly, mocking innuendos, this time she sensed the true Prince coming through. Sharp and cunning, yes, but in this instance…speaking truth?
She swallowed. “My brother is angry about Thor’s death. As am I. But I plot no treachery against the Commander.”
The Prince’s sharp, discerning gaze held hers. Elwytha got the uncomfortable feeling he could look straight into her soul. It was good she had decided to abandon her treachery only an hour before.
The Prince retreated to his chair. He rested, indolent once more, upon the throne. However, his eyes remained like sharp obsidian—as if able to cut through every wall of deceit to find the truth.
Elwytha still felt shaken by the letter, but no longer knew what to think of it. Several lines disturbed her. But which? Certainly the condemning lines against the Commander. But hadn’t she desired proof? Wasn’t this it?
She didn’t know what to think.
And now, what to say to the Prince? Richard did plot treachery. But she did not know his true plan. Only that he wanted the Commander dead.
Elwytha felt more confused than ever.
“Princess,” he said sharply. “Your thoughts tangle. You tarry too long with your response.”
She licked her lips. “Truly, Prince, my brother speaks in riddles.” True enough. “He’s encouraging me to marry the Commander, although he knows I do not wish it. He’s tired of war, and wishes for peace.” However, likely a peace where he would be sovereign King.
Elwytha did not trust the Prince fully. Even a little, to be honest. Truth and lies tangled about her in a web so delicate a misstep would break it and the great spider would descend, eager to devour the unwitting participants. Did the spider signify her brother? Or a plot the Prince planned even now, against Richard? …A counterplot she knew nothing about. Anything was possible.
“I’m hungry,” she said. “I would take your leave.”
“Very well.” The black gaze did not release her. “But know I watch you, Princess. My men are instructed to do the same. I will not be made a fool. Know that treachery on your part will invite the sword. You will not escape, and neither will your brother. Warn King Richard in your next missive.”
Her heart thumped. This Prince was no fool, though he played at one. He wasn’t a man to cross. Neither was his Commander. She inclined her head. “As you wish.”
He flicked his fingers, dismissing her, and reclined more fully upon his throne. Before her eyes, she saw the Prince slip back into the cunning, mocking role he loved so well. “Do not disappoint me, Princess. Your head is much too pretty to adorn my flagpole.”
With a shudder, she fled the room, forgetting the required curtsey. That loathsome Prince! With a gasp, she shoved past the guards, out the door, and ran for the warm safety of the kitchen.
The Prince clearly suspected a plot. What a mess. She needed to study Richard’s missive more closely to figure out what bothered her so much.
“Goodness, child,” Mary said, when she burst into the kitchen. “You’re running as if the very devil is after you.”
Elwytha thought of the Prince. “Perhaps he is.” She slipped onto the bench at the table, where her friend had already placed a trencher of bread, vegetables and meat. Now Mary delivered a cup of water.
The cook gave her a sharp look of her own. “Trouble, miss?”
Elwytha placed the parchment beside the trencher and reached for her spoon. “I received a letter from my brother, the King.”
“Ach, did you.” Mary returned to her stew pot. “Did he say something to upset you?”
Yes, he had. Elwytha spread it flat so she could look on it again. “He said he’ll attend my nuptials on Monday.”
“Mmm.” Mary nodded. “And sign the peace agreement, as my husband reports to me?”
“Your husband?”
“Ach, yes. He’s the prince’s personal guard.”
Elwytha wondered if she had seen him. But most of the guards wore helmets—a silly practice, and no doubt perpetuated by the game playing Prince. Mayhap he loved chess too much. “Truly,” she said, instead. “That’s an important job.”
“Me Henry is proud of it, and like to be I am, too. Except he’s often home late of a night, especially when guests visit.”
Elwytha could well imagine the Prince in his cups late into the night, jesting and sporting with his friends.
“Mary, I wanted to speak to you about refreshments for after my wedding.”
“You would plan a feast?” Interest sparked on the middle-aged woman’s face. She wiped her hands on a towel. “Mayhap pastries? Tender legs of lamb?”
Elwytha’s mouth watered at both suggestions. Too bad she wouldn’t be here to partake of them. Richard would whisk her away first, abandoning the fake peace treaty. “Both sound heavenly. What of carrots with butter and a bit of honey?” One of her favorites.
“Good idea,” the other woman agreed. “And plenty of ale to go round.”
Elwytha smiled. “And perhaps fruit and loaves of fresh bread.”
Mary rubbed her hands, and Elwytha could almost see the happy wheels turning in her head. “I’ll ask maids from the village to help. And I’ll need extra flour.…” She trailed off, lost in thought.
“What can I do to help?” Elwytha wanted to know. After all, it was a lot of work…for a wedding that wouldn’t happen. She felt guilty for putting Mary to all that work for naught. “Perhaps it’s too much. With pastries, we don’t need bread as well.”
“Nonsense! We will have it all. And I would not have you dirtying your hands, miss,” she scolded.
“But I must do something.” Elwytha felt further guilt. Would her conscience never let her be?
“Mayhap you could decorate the dining hall. Perhaps leaves and a few flowers?” suggested Mary. “I saw a handful of roses left in the garden. Hagma could help you.”
The idea appealed. “Good idea.”
“Just don’t you trouble your mind about the feast,” the cook told her comfortably. “I’ve planned many in my day. It’ll go without a hitch, it will.”
Elwytha ate her food, listening to Mary happily hum. So her wedding was planned. The Commander would deal with the priest and chapel, the food was planned, her dress decided, and she would decorate the hall. What more was there to do?
Except plan her escape route when she broke her word to the Commander. Knowing him, he wouldn’t let her escape easily. Knowing her brother, he would be furious. They would both need an escape plan if Richard did something rash.
A knot settled in Elwytha’s stomach. She could not foresee how it would all play out. She would take it one step at a time. But an escape route wasn’t a bad idea…a contingency plan should the whole house of cards fall about her ears.
And that reminded her of Richard’s letter. What bothered her so about it?
A quick read refreshed her memory.
This witness who’d seen the Commander murder Thor; who was he? Why had he only stepped forward now? And Richard’s several references to her ‘fate’ and the ‘sacrifice’ she intended to make disturbed her, too. He couldn’t reference her marriage, because that wouldn’t take place. Then what did he mean?
These questions unsettled her spirit. As for the witness against the Commander…anger arose. It was strong proof that he had murdered her brother. He had to be guilty. And yet how smoothly he’d lied to her. Elwytha felt sick. Again, she felt her world tilting off balance. She didn’t know who or what to believe anymore.
* * * * *
Hagma and Elwytha altered more gowns that afternoon. Thoughts of the witness and the growing evidence of the Commander’s guilt plagued Elwytha, resulting in several painful needle pricks as she worked. It did not improve her mood. In the even, Elwytha donned the green dress, but made no effort to wait for her betrothed’s escort to the dining hall. She would sup too nearly of his closeness all even. More, she could not stand.
The Prince rested upon his plumply cushioned chair as she arrived. She cast him an unfriendly glance and sat. Servers delivered food to the table, and Elwytha sipped water, ignoring him.
After a few minutes, she sensed the Commander behind her. He slid onto the bench and had the nerve to smile at her. “You look lovely this even, as always, Elwytha.”
She glared at him, lips tight. A platter of food appeared before them and she helped herself to vegetables and broth, using her spoon to fill her trencher. The Commander watched silently as she did so. Usually he filled her plate for her, but she wished none of his false courtesies this even.
She ate a carrot, softened by the stew juice. Delicious. After a moment, the Commander served himself, and then cut meat for himself, too. Elwytha ignored this, although she longed for meat, too. Unfortunately, she had no blade to slice off a bloody hunk.
The Commander’s great hands moved slowly, assembling his meal, while Elwytha chewed next on bread. Finally, they stilled, and she felt his gaze upon her.
“Have I displeased you, Elwytha?” he growled in his uncommonly deep voice.
“Your presence displeases me,” she retorted. “I cannot stand to look upon your lying countenance.”
His fingers curled around her wrist, and she stared at them, displeased. “Unhand me.”
“Look on me, Elwytha.”
With reluctance she did so, still glaring, and he released her.
The steel gaze pinned her. “Speak what is wrong between us.”
She scowled harder. “What is wrong is that you are a lying bastard.”
He frowned now, which cast his mutilated face into fearsome lines. “I tell no lies. What do you speak of?”
The Prince interjected, “The Princess received a letter from her trusted brother today.” He gave a thin-lipped smile. “Verily, Princess, your heart seethes with contempt for all your enemies.”
Elwytha could not forget the Prince’s earlier, horrifying threat. She clenched her fists, trembling with anger. “You,” she hissed down the table, “disgust me. I have committed no treachery against you, yet you threaten to adorn your flagpole with my head. What a kind and gracious host you are!”
The Commander turned a frown upon his ruler. “Prince?” The rumble sounded too quiet.
The Prince sent Elwytha a narrow look. “I merely warned your fair princess that treachery against my crown has its price.”
Anger flamed Elwytha’s cheeks hot. “How weak you must be, Prince, to threaten a mere woman. Mayhap all your preening airs have made you feel half a man. You wish to bolster your manliness by threatening your unarmed guest!” She shouted this last, trembling with rage.
Both the Commander and the Prince took a quick breath and stared at her. Elwytha slammed down her spoon, but grabbed a big hunk of bread. “I tire of you both,” she told them. “And verily, if treachery is afoot, you, Prince, are plotting it. And your murdering knave of a Commander will blindly and brutishly carry it out.”
She jumped up and stepped free of the bench, struggling for majesty in her shaking anger. “I will be in my chamber, should you wish my head this even, Prince.”
Spinning on her heel, she exited the dining hall, steps smooth and regal, although she longed to run from their loathsome, frightening presences as fast as her feet could take her.
Truly, she felt sickened and disappointed with the both of them. She was honest enough to admit this. She’d begun to trust…and even like the Commander. The Prince, while he annoyed her, she’d found interesting and even amusing at times. His verbal attack today in the throne room had hurt her, and destroyed the fragile truce she’d thought existed between them. Now he’d let his true colors fly. Never mind her brother meant treachery, and so had she. But no more. Her honor had come to her rescue. But no honor girded the Commander or the Prince.
In her chamber, Elwytha burst into furious, wretched tears. An all too common occurrence in this dark, snake’s pit of a hell.
* * * * *
The Commander turned to the Prince with a frown. Elwytha’s hatred and fury had jarred him. He had thought they had progressed beyond this in the chapel today. Now things appeared worse than ever. And the Prince had apparently played a role in it.
“You went too far, Prince.”
“Truly? I must protect the palace. Treachery will be punished.”
“You will not punish Elwytha, should she commit treachery,” the Commander said evenly.
“Verily?” The Prince’s eyes looked like black obsidian. “Then who will, Commander?”
“You will leave her in my hand.”
The Prince watched him, and then finally gave a short nod. “As you wish, brother. But don’t let her beauty blind you to her flaws.”
The Commander said in a hard tone, “You scared her.”
“As was my plan.” The Prince drank from his cup. “I would rather frighten her than make good on my threat.”
“Mayhap you should apologize.”
The Prince affected shock and dismay, but a small smile curled his lips. “Apologize? To my enemy?”
“Do you wish her to hate us further? What purpose would that serve—or would you push her to treachery?”
“No. In truth, Commander, her brother plots enough treachery for all of us.”
“You are sure.”
The Prince stared at him, his black eyes like coal, and all attempts at game playing vanished. “Push me no further, Commander. I will grant your request. But if you wish to know the true reason for Elwytha’s distress, you will read the letter Richard sent. Don’t let lust blind you to the truth about your future bride.”
Fury rushed through the Commander, but he managed not to clench his fists. “Lust is not the only feeling a man can have for a woman. Don’t let your jaded palate blind you.”
A muscle clenched in the Prince’s jaw. “You think I am so base?”
“I think you forget that women are not to be used and dismissed. As if garbage.”
“I see,” the Prince mocked. “I hurt Elwytha’s feelings. Do you care for her so tenderly, then?”
The Commander clenched his fist. “Treat her with respect, Prince, or you will bring trouble on our heads.”
“Your head, you mean.”
The Commander took a breath. No one could win this confrontation. “Take no offense. I wish only for peace. Threats will not accomplish that goal.”
“You forget yourself, Commander.” The Prince’s eyes were like black knives.
“I forget nothing…Prince. I ask your cooperation in this delicate matter with Elwytha. I believe if treated right, she will gladly carry through with the peace agreement. Is this your wish as well?”
Pride stiffened the Prince’s frame. His words cut like a sword, “Do not speak to me thusly again, old friend.”
The Commander dropped his head just enough. “As you wish. I apologize.”
His ruler relaxed infinitesimally. “I wish no reason to scourge you.”
The Commander smiled, then. “I do not wish it, either.” Both knew this would never happen. The Commander was too respected and feared by his men. None would administer such a lashing to him, for fear of the consequence afterward. So the Prince would have to do it. They would battle with swords; a match which would produce a stalemate.
“I will speak to the Princess,” the Prince said magnanimously, and speared up a bite of rabbit. “But only because you care for her so deeply, old friend. You must, to endanger the goodwill between us.”
“I do. Thank you.”
The Prince nodded, and said little for the remainder of the meal. The Commander thought on the letter Elwytha had received. What had Richard said to poison her mind against him? Tomorrow, he would find out.
Chapter Twelve
Elwytha exited her chamber the next morning prepared for battle. The previous night had elapsed in slow, restless misery. As she suspected, the Commander waited for her. He turned as she entered his chamber. His eyes held hers. “Good morn, Elwytha.”
“Verily, I saw blue sky out my window,” she told him coldly. “I wish to go outdoors.” Of course, she knew it would not be so simple.
“We will speak first.”
“Have you concocted more lies to defend yourself?” she wanted to know, crossing her arms. Disgust curled her lips. “Mayhap you and the Prince stayed up half the night plotting further lies and treachery against my crown.”
“Nay. I would read the letter Richard sent you.”
“You mean the Prince did not tell you, word for word?” she asked sarcastically.
