Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 (9 page)

“What’s your
name, Sergeant?” Vard asked.

“Floyd,” the
redhead grunted. The man’s hair was not his only flame-colored
feature now.

“Your drinking
will be the death of you.” With those words, Vard hurled Floyd
backwards and used his momentum to follow the man down, pinning his
sword arm against the ground and ramming his own sword against the
sergeant’s throat. Floyd’s eyes bulged with the pressure of the
weapon against his gullet. “Think on what I have said.” Vard pushed
himself off Floyd, allowing a little more pressure to bear on the
man’s throat as he rose. The sound of coughing followed him as he
left the practice ground.

Fools,
he
thought, but not more so than he. His destiny was to protect but
after last night, he was no longer sure what that meant. Oh yes,
he’d been foolish indeed to take the steps that had brought him to
this place. He shook his head. The distraction had worked for a
time, long enough to bring his ragged emotions back under control.
He was expected at breakfast.

When Vard entered the
dining hall, Princess Alecia was already seated at the long table,
halfway along the side that faced the servery. Her eyebrows rose
and her gaze swept over him, lingering below his belt. He raised
one brow and waited for her eyes to lift, grinning at the blush
that stained her cheeks. He knew she recalled his undress of just a
few hours before. But his amusement was short-lived. It wasn’t just
his skin he had laid bare. She had seen him at his most vulnerable
and it could not happen a second time. There was no telling what he
might do if he lost control like that again.

He crossed to
the servery and poured from a china teapot into a fragile cup,
savouring a mouthful of the fragrant brew as he faced his charge.
Her eyes had the dark smudge of fatigue beneath them. The niggling
familiarity struck him again. “Did I frighten you last night,
Princess?” He watched the delicate movement of her throat as she
swallowed, and his traitorous heart skipped a beat and raced
away.

“
Startle, more like,” she said. “You were not yourself… Are
you
-- well…this
morning?”

He took a deep
breath and crossed to the table, disturbed by his reaction. He was
vulnerable to her! That shouldn’t surprise him after last night,
but it did. Alecia was very much a part of his current dilemma, his
lack of control. She was inextricably linked into this chain of
events that pushed his restraint to the limit. The truthful answer
to her question was ‘no’.

“I’m
recovered, Princess.” He sat opposite her and piled potatoes and
thick mutton on a slice of hot bread, glad that his voice gave no
clue to his distress. Her presence tugged at him, made him want to
bare his innermost thoughts. “Where’s your father?”

She didn’t
answer for a moment. “He has been delayed. We are to start the meal
without him. Why are you here?”

Faint
stirrings of anger licked at his brain. How could she irritate and
intrigue him at the same time? He took a deep slow breath, resolved
to keep cool. “The prince requested my presence, Your Highness,
otherwise you can be assured I would’ve eaten in the kitchen or
with the men.”

“I did not
mean to offend.” She examined his face, her head tilted to one
side. Her scent carried a mixture of nervousness and intense
curiosity, as though she were viewing an unfamiliar but dangerous
beast. He supposed that described him well enough.

The silence
between them lengthened, their eyes locked together. The princess
gave a start and broke the contact when Prince Zialni stalked into
the room. They both stood but the prince waved away their
manners.

“Be seated,”
he said, as he filled his plate and took his chair at the head of
the table. “So many things to attend to and so little time.” He
looked at Vard. “Have you heard the news from the township?”

“No, Your
Highness.”

“
More
killings,” Prince Zialni snapped. “In the same area as the first.
There is foul murder at work here and I
will
get to the bottom of it.”

Vard glanced
at the princess. Her eyes were fixed on her plate, the fork in her
hand trembled and a wave of her fear struck him hard. He had not
thought her easily upset. “Perhaps we should discuss this alone,
Your Highness,” he said to the prince.

“Nonsense!
Alecia has to understand the risks of her office. In the past, she
has disregarded the need for security. It will do her good to see
that even hardened mercenaries can be victims.”

“Hardened
mercenaries, Highness?” Vard said.

“The very
same.” Price Zialni’s brow creased. He did seem disturbed by the
news. “Two bodies were discovered just a few hours ago outside The
Dancing Lion. The men had ventured out of the establishment earlier
in the evening and neither came back. One had his neck snapped and
the other was covered in knife wounds.”

Vard glanced
at the princess to see how she took the news but her eyes remained
on her plate, her knuckles white on the handle of her teacup.
“These two murders were the work of the same person, Highness?”
Vard said.

“I cannot see
how else you could interpret it though they were not both…” The
prince’s voice trailed off and he ran his hand across the stubble
on his chin, his eyes narrowing. “Never mind; as you say, Captain,
no need to discuss this in front of my daughter.” The prince
applied all his attention to scraping thick slabs of butter onto
the hot bread.

Vard opened
his senses to his employer and almost growled. No trace of inner
turmoil radiated from the prince, no scent of fear or bewilderment.
He smelled of determination and cunning but that was the essence of
the prince, and there was nothing else to give a clue to what he’d
been about to say. His words implied a deeper knowledge of the
victims than he was willing to share.

Princess
Alecia cleared her throat and rose from the table, dabbing her
mouth with a snowy napkin. “Father, may I be excused from the
table?”

Prince Zialni
frowned, his dark eyes darting from his daughter to Vard. “Captain,
I wish for you to take my daughter riding this morning. It will do
her good to escape the sordid events of last night for a time.
Select a safe path and be vigilant. You must be back before
luncheon. Daughter, obey Captain Anton or there will be no more
outings.”

She frowned at
her father. “I thought you said I was at risk? Would it not be
safer to stay within the castle?” A pulse jumped in her throat and
she wiped her hands on her skirts.

The prince’s
eyebrows rose. “Since when have you declined a ride in the country,
Alecia? You will be perfectly safe with the captain at your
side.”

The princess
stiffened, her teeth biting into her lower lip. “Very well,
Father.” She squared her shoulders and met her father’s eyes. “If I
may be excused, I shall change for the ride.”

The prince
nodded and Alecia avoided Vard’s gaze as she curtsied, and swept
from the room. She was clearly disturbed at the suggestion of a
ride into the countryside. Vard had to agree. The last thing in the
world he wished for at that moment was to be alone with the
princess. Somehow, he must keep himself aloof, for that was the
only way he could guard her safety and sort through his feelings
for the intriguing Alecia Zialni.

Alecia stood in front
of her oval mirror, fussing with the emerald silk riding dress. The
color made her eyes appear blue, not the lilac she so desperately
needed to hide. No matter how often she smoothed her brow the frown
crept back. She had spied a puzzled expression on the captain’s
tanned face more than once, and what else could be the cause but a
nagging familiarity? Eventually her protector would make the
connection, and now she had another reason to avoid Vard Anton’s
company.

Whenever she
thought of the encounter in his room, her heart fluttered as though
a hand had reached into her chest and squeezed. The hard lines of
his body came readily to mind, but it was not only the captain’s
glorious form that trapped her thoughts. He suffered some
affliction, and last night had needed the simple comfort of another
human being. She had never imagined that the granite exterior of
her fearless protector hid some dark pit of despair, but now she
was certain it did.

Realising the
bent of her thoughts, Alecia tried to concentrate on her attire.
The skirt was divided for riding, though the garment was still
cumbersome and nothing like she usually wore when she rode with
Ramón. She had tried to visit the squire yesterday but he had sent
her away. She felt like a traitor riding out with the captain while
Ramón lay abed.

Alecia sighed.
The dress would have to do. Vard Anton was unlikely to recognize
her as the lad who had attacked the mercenary. She pulled two
strands of hair, from the elaborate pile on her head, so they
curled past her ears, and nodded. A little rouge, kohl eyeliner and
Hetty’s cherry lip balm completed the disguise. Her hand shook as
she put the finishing touches to her face.

A knock at the
door startled her and the eyeliner smudged her cheekbone. “For the
love of the Goddess!”

She stalked to
the door and opened it to find the captain in the hallway.

“Excuse me,
Princess,” he said after a bow, “if you delay further, we won’t be
back for the midday meal.”

Butterflies
fluttered in Alecia’s stomach at the sight of her escort dressed in
his uniform. As she stared at his perfection, her heart threatened
to pound its way through her ribs and she said the first thing that
came to mind.

“I thought we
could ride to the high meadow for some archery practice.”
Immediately she regretted the words, imagining Vard Anton’s arms
around her as he adjusted her grip on the longbow. It was too late
to go back.

The captain’s
gold-flecked, sea-green eyes made a slow inspection of her attire
before trapping her gaze. “I’m at your command, Princess.”

Mouth suddenly
dry, Alecia strode over to the peg where her shortened longbow and
quiver hung. She grabbed the items and hurried back to join him. “I
am ready,” she said.

“
I think
not,” he said and stepped closer. His white-gloved hand rose to her
face and Alecia swallowed the gasp that sprang to her lips. The
image of his naked body swamped her mind.
If he tries to kiss me
again
… Vard’s fingers
cupped the side of her face and Alecia swayed towards him. His
thumb brushed her cheekbone twice and then his hand was gone. She
staggered, suddenly light-headed.

Vard steadied
her, his hand at her elbow. “You had a smudge on your face,
Princess,” he said. “I couldn’t allow you to appear in public less
than perfect.”

Alecia’s heart
leaped like a panicked toad. It was several moments before she
could speak. “I’m hardly perfect,” she said, “but thank you for
your attentiveness.” She swept past the captain and down the hall,
concentrating very hard on maintaining a regal bearing, but
determined to stay in front of her escort.

He caught her
up in the entrance hall and offered his arm. She ignored it and
gave him her bow and quiver instead. They walked thus to the
stables where their horses stood, tails swishing at the flies. As
Alecia marched to her dappled gray mare she studied the brown
gelding that stood nearby, longbow and quiver slung on its saddle.
Surely that could not be his first choice for a mount? She sprang
to Silver’s back before the captain could assist her and turned her
horse to face the gate. Her companion raised his eyebrows.

“It was you
who said we should not tarry, Captain, and it is you who are now
delaying us.”

His horse
rolled its eyes and fidgeted as the captain mounted and slung the
bows and quivers across his broad shoulders.

“What is the
name of your horse?” she asked, determined to stay on safe topics
of conversation.

“Swift,” he
said. “He may not be much to look at but he is deep of chest and
sturdy of leg and has consented to carry me.”

Alecia raised
her brows at the last remark. Most horses consented to carry men;
it was their purpose. The captain seemed to imply a contract
between himself and Swift. She shook her head. “Let us go.”

She watched
her companion from the corner of her eye as the horses walked side
by side out the palace gate. He rode well of course, with the
balance of a natural athlete. The extra weapons did not seem to
impede his movement at all. Even one bow made it difficult for her,
especially when speed was required. She would see how far his skill
ran.

“A race,
Captain,” she said and dug the tiny golden spurs at the heels of
her boots into her mare’s side. Silver leaped ahead, her nose
outstretched as she galloped towards the high meadow and the
archery range. Alecia’s heart soared at the wind on her cheeks and
the powerful movement of the horse beneath her. She glanced behind
to see her protector several paces back and gaining. A brief
glimpse of him was enough to show dark brows gathered low on his
forehead and his mouth drawn into a tight line.

In seconds,
Swift surged past and the captain tugged on the reins to shorten
the gelding’s stride. Vard Anton moved beautifully, his upper body
so perfectly balanced that his shoulders barely moved. The weapons
sat secure, never shifting to impede his horsemanship. His ability
set her teeth on edge even as he commanded her gaze. She was an
excellent rider, but would never have Vard Anton’s skill. The joy
went out of the race and she pulled Silver back to a walk.

The captain
sensed the lack of pursuit and reined Swift in beside her. Alecia
cast him furtive glances, bracing herself for his anger. She should
have stayed with him, not galloped ahead, but for short moments she
had been free. Her companion’s mouth and stormy brows gradually
relaxed. Finally he turned to her.