The Commander's Desire (19 page)

She scowled. “Pray, why would you read my
correspondence, Prince?”

“
Should I trust you and your
brother so utterly? As the fool you believe I am, would I allow
secret strategies to ferment within my walls?” he asked, clearly
sarcastic. “I should allow uncensored, unchecked missives to pass
freely between you, the Commander’s reluctant bride, and Richard?
In truth, as you will see, his letter records no pledges of peace.
As perhaps none reside in your heart, either.”

Elwytha quickly scanned her brother’s
missive.

I come on the next Monday for your nuptials,
dear Elwytha. I do not forget you, nor the fate you have chosen.
Faint not.

If I know the Prince, he fills your ears
with fairy tales of his glorious wins in battle and the Commander’s
innocence in our brother’s murder. Believe no lies of the Commander
or that preening Prince. I have found a witness at last. A hunter,
who verifies the cowardly act. Done in a rage, he said. Perhaps
rash. Perhaps planned in the pit of hell—the Prince’s heart.

Take courage, Elwytha. You, more than many,
have the heart of a warrior. Peace must come. Know your sacrifice
will mean the end of warfare for our people and their children.
Godspeed, sister.

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.