Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 (24 page)

Vard nodded.
“I’ll find a way to get word to you of what transpires, Hetty.” He
turned and left the witch’s house by the back door.

As Vard
stepped into the alley behind Hetty’s house he was seized by an
almost overwhelming desire to storm the palace and rescue Alecia.
Perhaps as the bear it would work, or perhaps not. His luck must
run out sometime. He forced himself to head across town towards the
forest and the cave that had provided refuge for him twice
before.

Alecia jumped as the
tray of food scraped across the rough wooden table just inside her
door. It was the only way she had to tell the passage of the hours.
The arrival of her three meals each day reassured her that time did
still pass in the outside world. The two days of her imprisonment
felt like weeks. She had nothing to look forward to, and her
wedding to dread.

Her face was
less painful today but her throat still ached when she swallowed.
She had tried to starve herself, but her promise to Vard held her
tighter than she would have imagined. She thought of him only
fleetingly. There was too much pain down that path; the pain of
loving and having that love choked by Vard’s rejection; the fear of
knowing that he was not human and that their lives could not be
shared.

But Alecia
could not subdue all of her feelings. At times, her desire for Vard
rose up within her and she allowed memories of his hands on her
body to heat her blood. Even now, her pulse quickened at the
thought of his lips and the hard strength of his arms. As she
battled with the need to surrender to her desire, someone cleared
his throat by the door. She rolled over on her bed but it was too
dim to see anyone.

“Father?” She
sat up and pushed her hair from her face. Perhaps he had changed
his mind. Perhaps he too remembered the times he had read her
bedtime stories and taken her for picnics, just the two of them.
They could still repair their fractured relationship.

“It is your
betrothed, Alecia dear,” the hated voice said.

Cold settled
in her gut. She froze, unable to speak, as Lord Finus came to her
bedside. His hand gripped her chin, turning her head this way and
that.

“Come, Alecia,
you heal too slowly.” He dropped his hand from her face and sat on
the edge of the bed.

Alecia leaned
backwards until her spine rested against the bed head.

Lord Finus
placed one hand either side of Alecia’s legs and swayed towards
her, his eyes on her mouth. “I am anxious for us to begin our life
together.” He wrinkled his nose. “I will have water and a tub sent
so you can bathe.” His left hand caressed her throat and Alecia
gasped as it slid downwards to cup her breast through the fabric of
her nightgown. His thumb caressed her nipple and she managed to
free her hand enough to slap his face. Lord Finus chuckled. “I like
my women with a bit of fight.” He secured her arm and returned his
attention to her nipple. Every muscle in her body tightened in
revulsion.

He stood and
leaned over her, his cold mouth capturing hers. Alecia couldn’t
move. She had no alternative but to wait until he had finished with
her. The lord’s hand slid behind her head and his kiss deepened.
His tongue probed her mouth. Alecia tried to push him away but one
hand held her while his other hand left her hair, tugged on the
ribbon that gathered the neck of her bodice, then plunged inside
the material to squeeze her breast. His lips left hers and moved to
the line of her jaw and then leisurely down her throat.

Shuddering with revulsion, she wrenched her hands free but
he recaptured them in both of his and forced them down either side
of her.
He
is so strong!
Her breast
was bared in the struggle and Finus licked the nipple, his tongue
encircling the delicate tissue. Alecia flung her head and body to
the side, trying to wrench her breast from his mouth. “I do not
want this.”

“
It is
mere days until our nuptials, my dear,” Lord Finus said. “I can
feel your desire. I knew you would warm to me. Am I not a
considerate lover?” He lay fully on top of her, his bulging manhood
thrusting into her belly. “No one will disturb us, beloved. You
cannot refuse me now.” His lips returned to her mouth as he
released her hand and hauled the skirt of her nightgown towards her
waist then grasped her pantaloons. Alecia writhed under him,
clutching at her undergarments.
He will rape me!

“Take your
hands from the princess,” a voice said from the doorway.

Lord Finus
tore his mouth from hers and rose from the bed to face the
intruder. Alecia collapsed against the pillows, panting, and shoved
her skirts down to cover herself. A tall woman in an ill-fitting
servant’s dress stood in the shadows. The bodice strained across
her shoulders but was not filled at the chest, and the skirt was
too short. A sword belt hung from her waist and she wore boots.

Finus drew
himself up to his full height. “Leave us, woman.”

The servant
stepped forward, sword in hand, and Finus gasped. “You!” His weapon
flew from its scabbard as he stepped away from the bed.

Alecia
stared at the swords and then at the woman. There was something
wrong… “Vard!” In other circumstances, she would have laughed out
loud at the sight of the powerfully built captain in a maid’s
dress
-- wherever had he
found one that would even half fit him? She pulled her bodice up
over her breasts and leaped off the bed, hauling her pantaloons
back up beneath her skirts. “You should not be here.” He had come
for her! He did care. Perhaps…

Vard’s eyes
flickered towards her and back to Finus. “I begin to wonder at the
wisdom of my actions, Princess,” he said, his voice tight. “I
believed you to be prisoner here.” The two men circled each
other.

The disgust in
his eyes cut Alecia to the core. How must it appear to Vard? That
she welcomed the attentions of her slimy fiancé? Anger surged in
her, giving her strength. “I am a prisoner, but it is my lot to
bear, not yours. Please go before you are captured.”

Vard grinned,
but there was no mirth, only mockery. “I’d need to fight my way out
in any case, Princess. Somehow I don’t think your betrothed will
allow me to leave.”

Finus snarled
and launched himself at Vard. Their swords clashed, sending sparks
into the dimness. Alecia retreated to the corner of the room, her
eyes unable to leave the two men as they fought for her. The dress
encumbered Vard, its skirts threatening to trap the sword. Twice,
Alecia believed he could not recover and both times, Vard’s sword
jerked free of its entanglement and blocked savage blows from
Finus. Her betrothed was a skilled swordsman, a fact that Alecia
had not known, and Vard seemed the underdog with the handicap of
his disguise.

Alecia’s fear
grew, both for Vard and herself. He had come to rescue her and it
could very well be his undoing. She dared not examine how his death
would cripple her heart, because her feelings for Vard were based
on a lie. He was not human. Besides that, Vard had seen her with
Lord Finus and thought that she welcomed the lord’s attentions. He
would not want her now, even if she still craved his love. Oh! She
hardly knew what to think!

As she
watched, Alecia became aware that Vard was luring his opponent away
from her. Her hopes rose as he appeared to lull her betrothed into
a false sense of confidence. Vard repeatedly fell back, seeming
exhausted, and then would rally only to be pushed back again.
Finus’ face was triumphant, as though victory was assured. As Vard
fell to one knee, the lord charged him, his sword centred on his
opponent’s heart.

Alecia’s own
heart hammered and her stomach had tied itself into knots. She did
not want to see, but could not take her eyes from Vard as Finus’
attack loomed over him. At the last second, Vard spun on the ball
of his grounded foot and slid out of the path of Finus’ sword, his
own weapon striking home as the lord’s attack carried him past.

Now it was her
betrothed’s turn to collapse to one knee. The sword fell from his
hand and Alecia watched blood drip onto the stones from a wound in
the lord’s side. Vard pushed himself upright and stood over the
injured man, his breath coming in gulps. Perhaps he had been as
hard-pressed as it appeared.

Finus’ ashen
face sneered up at Vard. “Finish me off,” he said.

A muscle along
Vard’s jaw tensed. “Your fate is sealed, Finus. Already the Goddess
calls to you. I don’t have to act.”

Alecia stepped
forwards until she stood beside the two men. “He needs help.”

Vard looked at
her then, contempt in his gaze. “Have things changed so much,
Princess, that you now care for this man? You once told me he was
the root of all your suffering and that of the kingdom. Does he now
deserve your love? Have his hands awakened your desire?”

Alecia dropped
her eyes before his derision, the hot flush of shame flooding her.
Finus had slumped to the floor, hand gripping his side and eyes
half closed. His breathing rasped in the quiet of the chamber.

“
You do
not understand,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. What
matter her dignity when Vard hated her? He thought her easy prey
for any man
-- him,
Ramón, Lord Finus. A sob rose in her throat and she swallowed it
down.

“I understand
what I saw.” Vard grasped her shoulders so that she had to look at
him. “Your betrothed is dying. Make your choice. We must leave now
or be caught.” His eyes trapped hers, the gold flecks threatening
to engulf the green.

Alecia fought
for breath.

“Will you come
with me or stay?” he said.

Alecia shook
his hands from her shoulders and braved the contempt in Vard’s
gaze. “A choice, you say. Stay or go. I know what I face if I stay.
What if I go? Will you care for me as my father will? Or a
husband?” She realized what she might be asking, and could not help
the gasp that escaped from her throat.

Vard’s eyes
hardened further. “I hear footsteps.” He stepped past Finus and
strode to the door. As Alecia watched, Vard poked his head into the
hallway and disappeared into the darkness.

Alecia took a
moment to allow her options to sink in. She contemplated staying in
Brightcastle. Vard clearly did not love her, even though his body
was the one she craved. But if she stayed, there would be more
occasions like this. She could not trust her father.

She sighed,
slid the amethyst ring from her finger and laid it on the lord’s
chest. As she stepped into the hall, strong arms enveloped her and
a hand clamped over her mouth.

“Quiet,” Vard
whispered in her ear. He released her but kept hold of her hand and
drew her along the hallway. Boots thudded on stone and Vard pulled
Alecia through a door just in time to avoid two men.

“The
lieutenant and his lackey,” Vard whispered as he peered through the
crack in the door.

Alecia did not
understand how he could see anything in the dark, but when he
looked at her his pupils glowed. She shivered. Vard’s vision might
be as good as any creature of the night. He would not hurt her; he
just would not.

A scream cut
through the relative quiet of the room behind them and Alecia
leaped forward, slamming into Vard. He muffled an oath and pulled
Alecia back into the hallway as a cry of “Thief, thief!” screeched
from the throat of the woman whose bedroom they had invaded.
Alecia’s courage faltered. They would be found and Vard crucified
for murder.

His hand
squeezed hers. “Don’t lose hope.”

They continued
along the passage to an intersecting hall that led to the entrance
of the castle. Vard stuck his head around the corner. His eyes
found hers. “It’s guarded.”

“Foul murder!
Intruder!” Cries came from the direction of the cellar.

“If you’ve any
ideas, Princess,” Vard muttered, “now would be the time to tell
me.”

Alecia met his
eyes and swallowed. “We are in the east wing. There are hidden
passageways. One of the access points is in Ramón’s room. It will
take us outside.”

“Lead the
way,” Vard said.

Alecia turned
back along the hall and took the passage that led to the kitchens.
Halfway along, she pulled Vard into a narrow alcove that
immediately became a staircase. It was used by the servants for
access to the guest chambers. Vard pushed past, Alecia stumbling up
the stairs behind him. At the top, they paused. Vard peered into
the broad hallway that serviced the guest rooms.

Alecia stuck
her head below his and pointed to a room across the hall. “That is
Ramón’s,” she said. Dim light showed under the door. “Please hold
your tongue with Ramón. Allow me to speak and he may help us.”

He shrugged
and pulled her across the hall and through the door, closing it
quietly behind them.

Ramón had just
risen from his bed. Alecia’s eyes widened at the sight of him. He
yelped and drew a blanket around his nakedness. “You!” he said, as
he recognized Vard. He reached for his sword, which stood propped
against the wall near the bed, and in seconds, it lay at Vard’s
throat. The captain hadn’t made a move. He stood defenceless, his
sword still sheathed. Ramón eyed Vard’s disguise and a smirk
appeared on his face. “Not much of a man now, are you? Move away,
Princess.”

Alecia stepped
in front of Vard and placed a hand on Ramón’s sword arm. “Let us
go. In the name of our friendship, please let us go.”

“Let this
clown escape and lose my head, you mean? Some of us have to live
here.” Ramón’s sword hand moved forwards an inch. Alecia heard a
sharp intake of breath behind her.

“No one need
know, Ramón. There is access to a secret passage in this room.”
Alecia pointed at the tapestry of the dragon. “The entrance is
behind that wall hanging. Let us through and lead the search away
from the exit. That is all I ask.”