The Commander's Desire (33 page)

She smiled, relieved. “Then I will wait…until
you are ready,” she said softly. She crawled onto the bed and sat
leaning against the headboard, pleating her hands in her lap.

He readied himself for bed, taking longer
than seemed necessary. He washed, and put away his clothes, and at
last sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes burned like smoke. “You
are sure?” he asked.

Elwytha was confused by his strange mood.
Surely he could not guess her secret plot tonight? No! Certainly
not. “Of course I’m sure. You’re my husband.”

He reached for her hand. “No words of
affection between us, Elwytha?”

Her heart beat hard. “I…”

“
Shh.” He put his finger to
her lips. “Speak nothing you do not mean.”

He did not want her to speak, and truly, she
felt afraid to share her heart with him. Could he ever accept it?
Instead, she kissed his finger, still against her lips.

“
Come to me, my husband,”
she whispered, and felt relieved when he did just that, enfolding
her in his great, gentle arms and kissing her with a passion that
took wings inside her and soared, thrilling her. She felt his
kisses down her neck, and the slide of his hands, loosening her
robe.

She moaned when he took his time with her.
She felt his warm breaths, quick and fast against her, and he
kissed her mouth again with a quiet intensity. She returned it with
a blooming, urgent passion. She touched him, too, aching to show
her love for him.

The pace between them slowly quickened. He
seemed to savor her lips and her body with a passion edged by
desperation.

It matched her own mood.

The fervor between them intensified and
suddenly flared hot and urgent. In the darkest recesses of
Elwytha’s mind, she feared she would never lie with her husband
like this again. Never touch him, never love him.

Reason could not silence her tears, and when
he came to her, she cried out his name at the same moment he
thundered hers. Again he groaned her name, as if in agony of
soul.

“
Gilead,” she whispered on a
sob, and gripped him tight. She never wanted to let him go. She
never wanted him to leave her. And yet he did. He pulled away and
lay on his back.

She felt very alone. Soundless tears ached in
her throat and she turned into him and slipped her hand across his
great chest. Already, he slept. His gentle breaths stirred her
hair. Tears squeezed out of her eyes and she hugged her arm around
him, as tight as she could. She loved him. It was why she could
make no other choice tonight.

When she was certain he was deeply asleep,
Elwytha slipped from their bed and knelt at the trunk where he kept
his knife. She knew he kept the key in his breeches, and now she
slipped it into the lock and softly turned it. Silently, it slid
open. She pulled out his prized, wicked dagger. Squeezing her eyes
tight, she gathered her courage and moved the blade to her arm.

She felt pain, and realized in a disconnected
way that it came from her wrist. The dagger fell with a clatter to
the floor, but her husband did not release the pressure on her arm.
She stared up at him, alarmed.

“
You would love me, then
kill me?” Fury shook through his deep voice, and betrayal. But not
surprise.

“
No!” She shook her head
fast.

“
I heard your plan with your
brother. Don’t deny it.” He held both of her hands painfully
immobile now.

“
No. You
misunderstand.”

“
I misunderstand nothing,”
he roared, anguished, and fear leaped inside her. “You would whore
your body to me, a monster, to accomplish your goal.”

“
No,” she choked
out.

“
You did. You
did!
”

“
No! I love…”

He cringed. “Speak no lies to me. Must you
insult my intelligence as well?” He loomed over her. His anger and
displeasure frightened her far more than his physical size. She
wanted desperately for him to understand.

“
I wanted him to think I
would kill you,” she whispered.

“
Do not take me for a
fool.”

“
I was going to cut my arm
and smear blood on the blade. That way he’d think…”

“
You lie!” Anger shook
through his voice. “No one would do that for me. I forgave you for
your treachery last time. I cannot again.”

Fear spiraled in her. “Commander…”

“
No! You betray me. Do not
speak again.”

She had to make him see. “I
lied to my brother. Truly, I meant to betray
him.
”

He growled, shaking his head, as if trying to
shoo off a gnat.

“
I meant to protect you,”
she insisted. “Otherwise, he’d kill you himself.”

“
Let him try,” he roared,
and she shook then, with fright. He hauled her to her
feet.

“
What are you doing with
me?”

“
What I should have done
last time.”

“
No,” she cried out,
struggling. “You’re not the monster everyone says you
are.”

“
I am.”

“
You are not!” Or was he?
Terror galloped through her, but tears burned her eyes. His hatred
hurt far more than any punishment he could mete out.

He pushed her into a chair and lashed her
hands behind her back. He glowered at her. “I will finish with you
later. Now I must stop your brother’s plot to kill the Prince.”

Her brother’s plot to kill the Prince?
Horrified, she watched the Commander leave, slamming the door
behind him. The Commander suspected… That meant the Prince did,
too.

Fear spiraled in her. If only she could stop
Richard! If he attacked the Prince he would sentence death upon his
head…and hers. Tears ran down her face, and she struggled
helplessly against her bonds. She had an awful feeling someone
would die tonight. Someone she loved.

And maybe herself, as well.

* * * * *

The Commander rushed into the hall, sword and
dagger clenched in his fists. Rage and pain contorted inside him.
He’d hoped—foolishly—to find Elwytha innocent. But no, she had
taken out the dagger to kill him. To kill him!

He swallowed back an agonized roar as he ran
through the halls. Silence. He couldn’t warn Richard of his
approach—if the Prince hadn’t finished him already. The Commander
wanted to be there, should his lifelong friend need help.

He stopped outside the great hall, listening.
Nothing. The drinking and socializing had ended for the evening.
Then where were the Prince and Richard? He raced next for the
throne room. He approached the doors and slowed, listening
carefully. One door was ajar. No guards. Something must be
wrong.

Quieting his breathing, he moved closer.
That’s when he heard it; a faint moan, just beyond the doors.

“
Commander.”

The Prince! Was he injured? With caution, he
looked around the door edge into the blackness. All lights had been
extinguished. Unease surged. He felt danger close by. Quickly, he
looked left. When he glanced right, he saw a quick, blinding
movement and then pain exploded across his face.

With a guttural cry, he staggered. He reached
for a wall for stability, and found the wobbly door. He stumbled
against it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement again.
Through his pain blurred mind, he swung up his sword to defend
himself.

His blade sliced into something hard,
sticking to it. A wooden beam. His attacker held a wooden beam.
Even now, his unseen opponent swung it back for another swing,
jerking his sword from his hand.

The Commander was ready this time. Battle
precision and long practice had ingrained automatic responses. Well
and good, because his brain felt fogged with agony. He blocked the
blow with his left arm and swung his dagger with his right.

A flash of metal threw off his aim. It was a
dagger, flying right toward him. He swiftly blocked it with his
forearm, but felt no pain.

The wooden beam fell with a crash.

He saw a shadowy movement, then another blade
shone in the dim light. Another dagger. All of a sudden, he knew
the man had three. Elwytha had had three. Three to fling, one after
another, at their attackers.

The blade shot toward his leg, but he did not
take the bait. He turned quickly, taking it in the back of the
thigh, just as another dagger flew toward his neck. Like lightning,
he deflected the murderous blade. He recoiled and brought his own
blade back, but before he could let fly he heard a faint sound
behind him. A silver dagger whistled by his ear, straight and true
toward the enemy. It sank deep into flesh and bone.

With a strangled cry, the man dropped to his
knees. The light from the hall revealed Elwytha’s bearded brother.
King Richard stared up at him, then beyond him, eyes glazing.

“
Reap your treacherous
reward, Richard,” said the Prince. And then, with a quickness the
Commander would never believe, the dying King flung a fourth dagger
straight at the Prince.

Instinct made his own blade flash out, faster
still, deflecting the deadly missile. Richard collapsed on the
floor, blood pooling on the floor. The Prince’s bejeweled dagger
was imbedded in him to the hilt.

“
Good work,
Commander.”

He felt light headed now, and felt stinging
in his cut arm and leg. Blood dripped down his face. He swiped at
it, and at his nose, which felt the most pain. It was broken yet
again, smashed flush with his face this time.

The Prince regarded him. “You look a
prize.”

Now he noted the blood dripping down his
friend’s jerkin, and the slash on his arm. “You look no better.” He
gestured at Richard. “What happened? Where are your guards?”

The Prince looked at the King’s fallen form
in contempt. “He said he wished to discuss peace, and asked that we
speak in my study. I didn’t know he’d put a potion in my guards’
drinks. When they stumbled on the way to the study, Richard
attacked me forthwith.” He gestured ruefully at his bloodied
wounds. “He caught me by surprise. We battled and he was losing. He
ran off. I see now he hid in the throne room.”

“
He extinguished all the
lights,” the Commander said. He kicked at the wooden beam, now
lying harmlessly on the floor. “And he hit me with a
log.”

The Prince laughed. “Good thing you’re made
of stone, Commander, or your face would look less pretty.”

“
What will we do with
him?”

The Prince regarded the Commander. “Tell me
first, did your lady love betray you?”

The Commander looked away. The clawing,
agonizing pain again seized his heart. During the battle he’d been
able to compartmentalize it. Now it felt again like it might kill
him. “Yes,” he gritted in a low voice. “I caught her with my blade
in her hand.”

A small silence elapsed. “What will you do,
Commander?”

He looked at Richard’s fallen form. Elwytha
had betrayed him. He groaned aloud, and pressed his fist to his
face. It increased the agony in his head. He wished only to fall to
his knees and weep. “I will take care of Elwytha,” he
whispered.

The Prince remained uncharacteristically
silent for a time. Finally, he said, “I wish for Elwytha to sign a
surrender agreement. Delay your punishment until after that.”

“
When?”

“
Anon. I have it ready in my
study.”

“
You never doubted their
treachery?”

Another small silence, and then, “Never.”

The Commander heaved a breath. “I will bring
Elwytha.”

“
Bring her by here,
brother,” the Prince said. “Let her see Richard’s dead body. Make
her understand her treacherous plot is ended.”

The Commander nodded and retrieved his sword,
and then, with slow steps, went to summon his traitorous wife to
justice.

* * * * *

Elwytha had given up fighting her bonds. They
were too tight. She could not escape. As she could not escape the
fate Richard would force upon her. If only she could make the
Commander see her innocence. But he’d found her with a blade in
hand. His blade, stolen from his trunk. What was he to think,
especially after overhearing her conversation with Richard this
afternoon?

She waited in dread for someone to come.

Long minutes…perhaps an hour later…the door
opened, and the Commander entered. She gasped. Blood covered his
nose, obviously broken, and dripped down his mouth.

“
You’re hurt,” she cried
out, unable to help herself.

He did not answer. In silence, he loosed her
bonds, then pulled her to her feet, gripping her by the arm with
one large hand. He forced her toward the door.

“
Where are you taking me?”
she gasped. Fear bloomed.

“
Walk,” he thundered, and
she obeyed.

“
I didn’t intend to
betray…”

“
Silence!” His grip on her
arm hurt now. “Speak no more. I will not hear you.”

More tears fell as her terror swelled. What
had happened? What was he going to do with her? She knew her fate
lay in his hands. The Prince had promised it. So what would the
Commander do to her?

What had happened to Richard?

It couldn’t be good. More helpless sobs
choked out. Richard was still her brother, no matter his plots and
treachery. Had he walked into a trap? Wasn’t it her fault he was
here at all? After all, if she hadn’t agreed to marry the
Commander, none of this would have happened. Of course, she had
followed Richard’s orders. His wishes, all along.