The commanders desire, p.23
The Commander's Desire, page 23
Her brother! It blasted again.
Elwytha sat straight up, clutching the bedclothes. The cold air nipped her shoulders. He had come.
Dread arose. She wished he’d go away again. She wished she didn’t have to see him.
Beside her, the Commander rumbled, “Your brother arrives.” His hand curled around her elbow, urging her back to him.
“Yes.” Gladly, she snuggled back into his strong, warm arms.
“He can wait a while longer to see you.” He smiled, and she grinned back.
“Yes,” she whispered, and her husband kissed her, luring her mind to passion again.
Later, after a sumptuous breakfast that had been left outside their door, they set out to find Richard. They found him in the Prince’s private study, sipping ale in a comfortable chair. Two guards stood close by.
The Prince and King Richard looked for all the world like good friends, talking and enjoying a drink. Except when Elwytha stepped through the door she felt the thick tension thrumming through the room.
Richard rose when he saw her. “Sister.” He allowed her to kiss his bearded cheek. Cold blue eyes regarded her. He was not happy, she discerned immediately. “You look well.”
“As do you, brother.” She glanced at the Prince, who lounged in his chair, long legs languidly stretched before him. He watched Richard as a cat who’d found a mouse. Apprehension crawled within her.
“Richard,” she said, “this is the Commander, my husband.”
Richard’s lips curled. He stared at the Commander, but made no effort to acknowledge him. He turned to the Prince. “I wish to thank you for your hospitality. Also for the feast tonight to celebrate our peace. Now, I would take your leave.”
The Prince nodded. Beside Elwytha, the Commander now radiated an ominous, tightly leashed aggression.
As Richard passed Elwytha, his eyes met hers. The message was clear. Meet me later. She nodded imperceptibly, and he was gone.
The Prince spoke. “Princess, you brother promises the oil of peace. Now we will see—will it smooth our differences, or will it burn?”
Elwytha feared she knew the answer to that, and the Prince knew it. His sharp eyes cut into her. Silkily, he pressed, “Don’t hesitate to rush to your brother’s side. As the Commander’s wife, you have his full trust, and full run of the palace. Pray, do not disappoint.”
Elwytha frowned uncomfortably, and wished to escape the annoying Prince, but she made herself sit, along with her husband, and listen to the two discuss armory repairs. While she found this interesting, most of her mind dwelt upon Richard and what he might be plotting. Even now, she shivered with the horror of what she had planned to do only two weeks ago; with what she knew her brother expected her to do, even now. She had to speak to him. Reason with him. Argue for peace. And warn him, if all else failed, that the Prince suspected a trap.
Feeling edgy, she fidgeted until the Commander noticed. He turned to her. “You can visit your brother. I’ll be along soon. He’s in the guest quarters.”
Elwytha smiled at him, unable to hide her love. She hadn’t told him yet. It still felt so new…so precious and tender. Did he love her, too? She was afraid. What if he did not? What if Richard ignored her pleas and broke the peace? Would the Commander still wish her for a wife? Or would he despise her then?
She forced herself to rise. Despite the Prince’s unwelcome presence, she longed to stay with the Commander. Fear soured her stomach. What if after she spoke to Richard the peace fell apart and things were never the same between them again?
“I’ll see you soon,” she promised; more to herself than to him. She would see him again. All would be well. It had to be. She felt too shy to kiss him in front of the Prince, though she longed to.
The Commander felt no such qualms. He walked her to the door and kissed her before she left. Joy warmed her heart and leant wings to her feet as she sped toward the guest quarters.
* * * * *
Elwytha knocked on her brother’s chamber door. By now, her spirits had settled. Soberly, she marshaled her thoughts. Time to figure out her brother’s plots. Time to convince him of peace, if possible.
“It’s Elwytha.”
“Enter.”
Elwytha entered her brother’s large suite. Soft white pelts covered the stone floor, tapestries decorated the walls, and a large bed, draped in red fabric, looked imposing in the far corner. Twin, high, slitted windows let in the bright morning sunlight.
Richard looked fit, and his beard appeared freshly trimmed. He always trimmed it before a new offensive. This clue to her brother’s mindset did not quiet her fears.
“Are you welcoming me to the enemy castle, sister mine?” he inquired, approaching her. She could read no emotion on his hard face.
“Are you here to sign the peace, brother?”
Richard gave a small smile. “I am here to achieve my goals.” He came still closer. “Do you still pledge loyalty to your king?”
An odd energy radiated from him. Uneasily, Elwytha replied, “You are my brother. Would I abandon you?”
He eyed her, his blue eyes so dark and hard they appeared like stones. “You tell me, sister.”
Uncomfortably, Elwytha changed the subject. “I expected you yesterday. Didn’t you receive my missive in time?”
“I did,” he acknowledged. “But it displeased me.”
“Why?”
His lips curled higher, revealing gritted teeth. “Your warnings for peace, and your pleas for honor. Tell me, Elwytha. Did they force it from your hand, or did you write it from your heart?”
Elwytha frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Richard raised his hand. “It matters not to me. But if you would pen…nay, love…their words so much, I decided a night in the monster’s hands would serve you well.”
She gasped. “You wished me to suffer?” Never mind she hadn’t. It had been her brother’s evil intent. She could scarcely believe her ears.
Richard smiled. “Did you suffer, sister? Or did you enjoy it?”
Outraged, Elwytha swung to slap him, but he caught her hand. “Tell me the truth,” he hissed. “Are you for me, or against me?”
Elwytha wrenched her arm free and glared. Clearly, no peace lived in his heart.
Dread gathered. Still, she would press for information in order to divert the plots Richard clearly intended to carry out. And she had other questions for him to answer, too. “Why did you order an attack on us at the loch?”
He barked out a laugh. “Now we address the truth. Yes, Elwytha. Answer my question first. Truly, do you love the monster so tenderly? I hear you fought to the death for him.” His brow lowered, looking menacing, his eyes cold. “What of my crown? I’m your brother. You owe fealty to me. Do you serve me, sister?” He gripped her arm again, and to her shock, she felt the prick of a blade at her neck.
Elwytha gasped. “You would kill me, brother? Did you send those men to kill me, too?”
“My men are fools,” Richard hissed. His bearded face came closer. “Are you, as well?”
Elwytha’s heart beat rapidly, but she struggled to think rationally. Richard threatened her because he doubted her loyalty. She must convince him of it—what good would it do the Commander if she were dead? Verily, what good would it do her?
“Brother,” she said, as evenly as possible, “I have followed your plan, even though your men attacked me. What further proofs do you wish of my loyalty?”
To her surprised relief, he released her. But for how long? Fury still burned in his blue eyes. She would need to be careful…and very, very convincing. “Truly?” he said smoothly. “Then why does the monster still live?”
“You did not come, and now I’m married to him,” she retorted, struggling to slip into the role of upset sister rather than disbelieving, distrustful sister. “Was that your wish?”
“So kill him, and be rid of your unwanted husband.”
“I waited for your arrival. For the speedy rescue you promised. Is it still promised?”
Her brother’s eyes narrowed. “You doubt me?”
“I have no wish to die,” Elwytha told him. “As soon as the Commander is found dead they will come after me.”
“Silly sister. You will have hours to make your escape.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tonight, after you satisfy him, he will sleep. Kill him then.”
Her face flamed and horror sickened her. “You would use me as a murdering whore!”
“No. A murdering wife.” He smiled, a nasty one.
Fury arose, but Elwytha heaved a breath, trying to calm herself. Trying to plot a game to trick her brother. To secure the Commander’s safety.
He said, “Kill him, and so seal your fealty to me. Then I promise you continued protection within my castle walls. If not...” He left the warning unsaid.
“Do you threaten me yet again?” she asked in a low voice. “Did you wish me to kill him at first light this morning, when you sounded your horn? When I had no chance of escape? Do you truly wish me dead, brother? As you wished our brother dead?”
Her brother went quite still. “You accuse me of treason,” he said in a hiss.
“We both know you hated Thor. I ask for the truth. You would barter my life for a false peace. For the death of the man you say killed our brother.”
“Ah. The monster has filled your head with lies.”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Don’t tell me you desire him.” His words twisted, ugly. “Or do you admit allegiance to a murdering heathen over your own brother?”
Elwytha looked away, heart pounding. She had almost slipped. “No! Of course not.”
“Yet you question me.”
In keeping with her act, she spurted, “I question why you did not come as you promised. I wish to know my avenue of escape tonight. Are these unreasonable questions?”
“Your attitude belies your servitude to me. Your pride will be your downfall, sister, if you do not repent.”
Unwisely, she countered, “You mean if I do not submit to your orders.”
“Kill the monster,” he spat. “Or I will. But know that if I do it, you will have no place in my castle. On the other hand, if you kill him, you will enjoy many years of peace and safety.”
Her flesh prickled. Elwytha did not trust her brother’s promises. For the first time, she accepted this truth. The Commander may be a heathen, but he always spoke the truth to her. He treated her with respect; not as a pawn to be played to further his goals, and then discarded when he felt threatened. And she loved him.
No love lived in her brother’s eyes. Only an appetite for murder and a lust for power. If she resisted him—if she refused to submit to his demands—he would kill her, even now. The realization—the fear of it—sickened her.
If she were armed, Richard would not be so bold, but right now, he knew he had the advantage. And he felt threatened by her. She read it in the barely suppressed rage in his eyes. The Commander had been right. She must tread carefully now, for the future—her future—lay in her hands. As well as the future of two kingdoms. Peace or war? Life or death?
Sounding as cold as she could, Elwytha said, “As you wish. I will kill him this even. Plan my escape at midnight.”
Her brother’s lips curled up. “Good. And I will take care of the Prince.”
“What do you mean, you will take care of the Prince?”
Richard’s glance slid away. “I will protect you, should he try to bar your escape, of course.” Her brother flicked a glance over her face. “Fear not, sister. You will be safe. At midnight I will meet you at the drawbridge.”
Elwytha nodded. Her mind screamed down different paths, seeking back up plans and avenues of escape. Tonight she would betray him. What would be the consequence?
* * * * *
The Commander turned away from the half closed door, and the hand that he’d raised to knock long minutes ago fell to his side.
It felt like someone had rammed a sword down to his lungs. He felt destroyed, as if his heart had been cut open and left to bleed. Treason! Elwytha plotted to kill him. It had been her plan all along.
He had been a fool. A fool! An anguished cry gurgled in his throat, and he shoved a hand at his ear, as if trying to silence the words of treason he’d just heard. Then he realized the Prince’s enemies could come out at any minute. He began to walk, fast, unmindful of direction. He strode outside, across the court, and found sanctuary in the armory. He leaned against the wall, heaving great breaths, wanting to turn his mind off, and the pain, but he could not.
In his weakness he had dared to hope that she cared for him.
He smashed his fist against the stone wall. His knuckles split and bled.
He didn’t care.
The Commander slid down the wall, to the floor.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and lifted his face to the heavens. How had it happened? “How?” he roared.
He had dared to hope for something good in his life…but God would not be mocked. He’d sown death and destruction, and so he would reap death and destruction, to his very soul. The Commander could never remember crying, but he wanted to now.
“I wanted her, God,” his voice broke. “I would do anything for her! I’ve repented of my past. I’m trying to follow the right path. Whatever else You ask, I would do it.”
But it was too late. His bargain with his Maker was useless. Elwytha did not care for him. She had chosen to betray him. He had wanted to tame her, but she had, after all, tamed him, and taken him for a fool.
Anger rose, folding through the hurt inside, but nothing appeased the scorch in his soul. Elwytha had betrayed him, and even now coldly plotted their last night together. He clenched his fists and swallowed back a ragged breath. She meant to lie to him one more time, to use his passion for her to dull his mind to her treachery.
Very well. He would allow it.… He could not lie to himself. He wanted it, God help him. One last time he would satisfy himself with her. And then, when she uncovered the deadly blade of her true intent, he would finish this thing between them. Once and for all.
But for now, he would warn the Prince of Richard’s treacherous plot and the danger to them both. Rising on wooden legs, he reentered the sunshine, heading for the castle. But the warmth could not touch him. The cold blackness that had retreated during his two weeks with Elwytha flooded through his soul again. It just might kill him, but he no longer cared.
* * * * *
Richard’s threat to take care of the Prince worried Elwytha as she headed for her chamber. What did he plot? To kill him? Anxiety twisted through her. She no longer trusted Richard. He frightened her. He had pretty much said he’d kill her if she didn’t do as he ordered. And verily, what guarantee had she that he’d spare her if she did obey?
Clearly, he felt threatened and suspicious of her. He loved his crown and his life too well to allow a threat such as herself to live within his walls.
Was that why he had ordered her to marry for peace—to push her outside his walls? Or did he wish their enemies to slay her after she killed the Commander? Then he wouldn’t need to do it himself.
A shudder shook her.
Richard had killed Thor. She knew it now, but had no proof outside of his murderous rage this afternoon…and his absolute lust for power, and the treachery that twisted like snakes through their native soil—his heart.
Carefully, Elwytha thought through her plan to trick him this even. To convince him to leave the palace without bloodshed.
But what if he attacked the Prince?
If so, his treachery would earn its own reward. She could not save him from that fate.
But she could warn Mary. Her husband was the Prince’s personal guard. Elwytha need not say she suspected ill of Richard. Her heart still would not let her betray her brother, her kin. Familial loyalty had been bred too deep. But she could tell Mary that when into his cups, Richard could become unruly. Henry could be warned to keep a sharp eye open to protect the Prince’s life.
Yes. Elwytha adjusted her course and headed for the kitchen. The Prince’s blood would not be on her hands.
As Elwytha hurried to speak to Mary, she struggled to work out the final details of her plan to trick her brother this even. Unexpected questions surfaced as well. How did Richard plan to cross the drawbridge? Or did he plan to kill the Prince and then lower it? Disquiet grew within her.
Her plans to out trick Richard’s plots twisted inside her, vexing her, sickening her, as she tried to work out all of the finer points. Richard was her brother. She’d loved him all her life. What if she was wrong about him?
Doubt assailed her.
Elwytha bit her lip, wishing she could flee from this untenable situation. Only one thing remained clear above all. She loved the Commander, and would not let Richard kill him. She would do anything necessary to ensure his safety.
Chapter Twenty-One
The feast was hardly jovial that even. The Commander never showed up, so Elwytha had to make conversation with Richard and the Prince. An uncomfortable, prickly situation, that. She gladly retired early, eager to escape Richard’s cold, meaningful glances, and the Prince’s curled lip. Neither ruler had drunk more than one cup of ale. As she knew both loved the beverage, it only boded ill for later.
In her chamber, Elwytha felt nerves as she dressed in the fine white robe the Commander had given her when she’d first arrived. Somehow, it seemed fitting. Their relationship had come full circle. Tonight he could remove it from her with one quick motion. She bit her lip and gazed into the mirror. Worry darkened her blue eyes as she brushed her hair for the last time, but she struggled to ignore it. Even now, her decision to betray her own flesh and blood haunted her. Would he suspect her treachery? Would she live the night?
She turned as the door shut. The Commander stood in the doorway, staring at her.
