The Commander's Desire (20 page)

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.

He regarded her patiently.

“
Fine.” She spun on her heel
and retrieved it. If this was the only way she could escape his
presence, then the quicker he read it the better. It certainly
wasn’t a private missive anymore, not after the Prince’s spying
eyes had besmirched it.

Elwytha flipped it at him with her
fingertips. “Take it. Read it. I await your lies.” She waited, arms
crossed, while he did so. Again, she wondered how a man such as
himself…to all appearances, little more than a serf…could read.

He finished. Grim lines tightened his mouth.
“Write to your brother this morn. I would know the identity of my
accuser.”

“
Nay.” Never mind that that
had been her plan, as well. “You would ride on the witness and kill
him. What would that prove? Except your guilt!”

He heaved a breath, and with pleasure she saw
his fist clench. She’d cut him to the quick of his lying, corrupt
soul. Elwytha pressed her advantage. “Nay. Your sword in Thor’s
back, and a witness... The evidence against you grows higher than a
mountain. Why won’t you admit the truth at last?”

“
I did not kill your
brother.”

“
Words, Commander. Proof
evades you.”

“
I would have the truth,” he
growled, stepping toward her. She stiffened her spine, but did not
back up. “I’ll speak to my accuser, face to face. And you will come
with me.”

Elwytha’s mouth opened in surprise. “You
would have me witness your atrocities? If I come, I will defend my
countryman to the death.”

The steel gray eyes cut into her. He’d
reached the end of his patience. “Write your brother,” he ordered
quietly. “Now.”

Mutiny flared. “I will not deliver my
countryman to death. I will be party to no treachery.”

“
I would
speak
to him, Elwytha.” His deep voice
cracked like a whip.

She curled her lip with deliberate disbelief.
“You would not kill him? Tell me the truth!”

He heaved another great breath. “How little
you think of me. I will not kill him, unless he pulls a blade on me
first.”

“
And I should take your
word? A murderer and a liar?” she taunted.

“
Words. But no proof,” he
flipped her words back.

In a glance she took in the
tension radiating from his stiff shoulders, and the cold steel of
his eyes. No warmth, no gentleness lurked in them today. And that
was just as she wished it. His gentleness was her undoing, and she
could not allow that. She must remain strong. In truth, it angered
and sickened her to the very marrow that that the new—nay,
all
evidence—pointed to
him being the despicable, murdering brute she had believed from the
beginning.

“
Would you put pen to paper
for me?” she inquired. “How will you force me to bend to your will
this time?” Even more hurtful words flew to mind, and she spat them
out, “Pray, what atrocities will your brutish side flay upon me?
Tell me. I wish to know the fullest reaches of your
depravity!”

“
Elwytha!” Temper erupted
and he gripped her wrists, pulling her to him. Fury burned in the
steel eyes. “Do not speak to me in such a manner.”

Alarm billowed. She had pushed him too far.
Still, she dared spit, “You would have me respect you? Obey all
your wishes and commands? Nay. I am a woman, not a dog. Don’t treat
me as such.”

He stared down at her. “Elwytha,” he said in
a deep growl. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he sounded
pained. To her surprise, he released her wrists. “What will it take
for you to trust me?”

An unexpected lump formed in her throat. “I
need proof, Commander. Proof you do not have.”

“
Allow me to face my
accuser. It is the only way I can clear my name.” A reasoning plea,
now. Not a demand.

She searched his eyes. Frustration still
lurked there, and anger…but controlled again, tempered by his
unending patience.

He was not a rash man, like her brother had
accused. A rash man would not still be speaking reasonably to her.
What’s more, he was far too controlled to kill someone in a
rage.

More reluctant truths drifted in. The
Commander had never harmed her. In fact, he had always treated her
honorably. Wasn’t this the least she could do…to give him a chance
to prove his innocence?

“
Very well,” she said at
last. “I will ask my brother who he is. And I’ll go with you when
you question him.”

A bit of tension relaxed out of his huge
body. “Thank you.”

“
I will write it now. Have
you a parchment and ink?”

The Commander pulled the necessary items from
a drawer. Elwytha gathered them up. “I would write in peace,” she
said, and shut herself in her room.

Elwytha placed the parchment on her dresser
and dipped the quill in ink. What should she say? How could she
hint that she wouldn’t battle and kill the Commander unless the
witness provided infallible proof? Even then, could she? Would
she?

Her quill hovered over the paper, and a great
black drop sullied the center.

She would reveal nothing yet. First, the
witness would show his hand. Then she would know for sure which
actions she would take. As well, she needed to convey to Richard
the Prince’s warning. Elwytha dipped up more ink and wrote,

I received your letter, brother. I will
fulfill my commitment to peace. The Prince says he desires peace as
well. Beware. He suspects treachery from us both.

You speak of a witness to the Commander’s
cowardly act. Who is this witness? I wish to know his name. I await
your answer.

I also await your arrival on my wedding
morn…on the Monday you mentioned. Your loving sister, Elwytha

* * * * *

The Commander paced his chamber, waiting for
Elwytha to pen her missive. The anger and disappointment in her
eyes had sickened him. And the disgust. He had thought they’d begun
to make progress and to grow closer together, but the letter from
her brother had destroyed it all.

He balled his fists. The odds against him
seemed to grow. Elwytha believed he had killed Thor. Not to mention
their palaces were at enmity, and had been all their lives. He was
her enemy no matter who had killed Thor.

The Commander paced, frustration churning. He
didn’t see Elwytha as an enemy. He liked her; truly, more every
day. He longed for her, and wished she would feel the same for him.
But she felt disgust, instead. He had seen it when she’d glared at
him this morning. Clearly, she still found him revolting. An ugly
monster.

A low sound gurgled in his chest, and he
shoved his hands through his hair…longer now, about a half inch.
He’d need to shave it soon. A small part of his brain acknowledged
this, while the larger part felt helpless impotence. What could he
do to gain Elwytha’s heart? Was it possible?

In the chapel, he had begun to hope. She had
kissed him back, hadn’t she? Or had it been only wishful thinking
on his part?

The Commander heaved great breaths. He needed
to fight. Only aggressive swordplay could release the hopeless
frustration raging through him.

First, though, he would await Elwytha’s
missive…and he hoped she’d write plainly enough, with no hidden
messages to her brother. He couldn’t handle another fight with her.
From the depths of his soul, he longed for peace between them, but
how to accomplish it?