The Duke and the Dryad (Elemental Series) (3 page)

BOOK: The Duke and the Dryad (Elemental Series)
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“Take whichever of us you think would best
serve your needs, my lord.” Humphrey extended his hand, offering the other druids. They said nothing, just sat there in silence, letting their leader trade them off like cattle being brought to the market.

Wolf
e took a look at the druids, and realized he didn’t want any of these heathens within his castle walls. They were weak, praying men, not strong warriors like him. They had no skills with any weapon. Nor did they have knowledge of what happened before or after a battle, should he decide to have them help his squire polish his sword or take the rust off his armor in the process. He sincerely doubted they knew anything about the hard life at a castle, as they’d lived in the forest their entire lives and probably had never done a decent day’s work - ever. They couldn’t plow a field let alone bring him his weapons or even a meal for that matter. All they could do was teach him how to chant or call upon their pagan gods, and that was something he would never do – not even if his own life depended on it. They were worthless! This would never do.

Then his eyes fell on the odd girl aga
in. She looked at him through intense but hooded big green eyes, drinking him in, reminding him of a cat. She was mysterious and alluring, and he couldn’t help feeling she was watching his every move, like a predator stalking its prey. Aye, she stirred his loins in an unusual way. And though he’d ignored it for many years, he did like an oddity. Anything unusual excited him, taking his interest and making him feel alive.

Plus,
he was tired of the castle lightskirts. He hadn’t had a decent bedding with a wench worth mentioning in so long that he’d started avoiding his knights when they bragged about the women they’d had and asked him about his own endeavors in exchange. What he needed was someone unusual and exciting. And while she was as worthless as the druids when it came to manual labor, at least this girl could fill one of his other manly needs.

“I’ll take her!” He pointed at her with the tip of his sword. A gasp went up from the druids and he could hear the muffled discussion of voices behind their hands in the dark.

“Nay,” the girl answered, shaking her head. “I am the guardian of my forest, I cannot leave here or who knows what would happen.”

Wolf
e had never heard such a pack of lies in his life. Who was this girl that she thought so highly of herself that she believed she commanded the forest? Didn’t she know who he was? She should fear him like the rest of the townsfolk. She obviously didn’t know whom she was denying. Mayhap he needed to remind her.

“The
se are my forests,” he told her, “not yours. And the only protection they need is from people like the Druids. And since I have been offered one of you in exchange for the life of my bull – I’ll take it. For now. Until I can think of something better.”

“Choose any
of us, my lord,” begged the chief druid. “Just leave Rae-Nyst, as she belongs to the forest.”

“I don’t want any of you,” growled Wolf
e. “Now I chose the girl and she’ll come with me. She doesn’t belong to the forest. For as of this night, she belongs to me – and would warm my bed.”

 

Rae-Nyst could not believe what she’d just heard the man say. She would not warm anyone’s bed against her will. Especially
Duke the Destroyer’s
.

She watched him
place his sword back in the scabbard at his waist, obviously knowing these people were of no threat to him. Then he reached out, and one strong hand grabbed her wrist, his fingers wrapping around her in a tightening hold as he dragged her toward him. She could feel the heat of the flame coming closer to her skin from the torch in his opposite hand. The fire started to drain her energy and her will as well. Her head dizzied and her limbs grew weak.

“Be careful with her
,” shouted Humphrey, jumping to his feet. The others followed suit. “Keep the flame far from her.”

“She’s mine now and you’ll not tell me what to do with her or how to treat her again.
And don’t think I’m going to leave my animal here even though ’tis dead. Sir Braden,” he called over his shoulder, “make sure the men find a way to retrieve the carcass. That’s enough meat to feed the dukedom for a sennight, though it pains me to eat it.”

“Aye, milord,” he answered, rounding up the me
n. The druids remained quiet, huddling in a circle.


You cannot take her,” the head druid called out as the warrior pulled her to his horse. “’Twould not be good for the forest.”

“Too late,” he called over his shoulder
. “And the best thing for this forest is for you to leave. Now these are my lands and I want every last druid out of here come sunrise. Do you understand?”

“But the circle of standing stones is here
– on this land. It has been here for centuries, long before these lands were yours,” answered the druid.

“Then take the damned stones with you
,” he growled, dragging her to his horse, holding the flame near her to guide her.

 

Wolfe noticed how quiet the girl was throughout this whole ordeal. Her face seemed pale and her eyes were half-closed. She kept trying to block her face with her hand and ’twas irritating him to no end. What he needed was to get back to the castle and out of the night air. Aye, a tankard of ale and the wench to warm his bed was exactly what he needed to help ease the tension within him from this failure of a rescue.

As he went to help
the girl they’d called Rae-Nyst mount the horse, the torch in his hand neared her. Then her eyes narrowed and she swayed backward, her strength giving way as her knees buckled beneath her. She slipped back down the side of the horse, and fell into his arms. Her head tilted back against his chest. He held her with one arm and the torch with the other as he lit up her face to have a better look. She gazed into his eyes, the flames of the firelight mixing with moonbeams creating shadows dancing across her face. Her clear, green, eyes that mimicked nature bore into him.

“Please,” she begged him, the word
softly flowing from her mouth. “Please put out the flame.”

Then her body went limp in his arm, and he dropped the torch to
the ground in order to catch her from falling.

“Damn,” he spat, surveying her body and face and thinking she looked as drained as his dead bull. He had to get her back to the ca
stle quickly. And these damned druids better not have given him a sickly, dying girl. Because if she died too, there would be hell to pay!

Chapter 2

 

 

Wolfe was in a foul mood by the time they’d returned to Castle Manterra. The girl lay limp against his chest and he felt the coldness of her body right through his cloak. He rode across the moat, the clip clop of his horse’s shod hooves echoing against the wood of the drawbridge. His men followed him through the gate and into the bailey where they finally stopped. ’Twas still hours before daybreak, but his courtyard was filled with not only his soldiers, but servants and peasants from his demesne as well.

Commotion stirred as onlookers came to view the girl lying half-dead against his chest. A squire ran up to greet them and he tossed the reins into the boy’s hands as h
e slid from the horse and threw the limp body of the girl over his shoulder.

“What is everyone looking at?” he growled to the crowd.
“And why the hell are the villagers even here? The drawbridge should have been raised after my departure.”

“My lord,” said Sir Braden, dismounting and
coming quickly to his side. “It seems the people are concerned that you’ve brought the girl into the security of the castle’s walls.”

“’Tis my concern, not theirs.”

He strode forward toward the great hall, mothers pulling their children out of his way and gathering them to their skirts. A stray goat scurried into the shadows as he stomped across the cobbled stones. A mangy dog shot out from the shadows, barking and nipping at his heels. He turned and eyed the animal with a fierce stare. ’Twas irritating him to no end. He didn’t need any of this after the night he’d just had.

“Get the hell out of here,” he ground out and took a threatening step toward the animal. Its tail between its legs, it
whimpered slightly and ran off behind the well.

That’s when he heard the howling of a different
canine far off in the distance. He looked up to the full moon and then out to the high peaks of Mount Calila that rose majestically into the sky, separating Manterra from Thorndale and Lornoon, the lands adjacent to the sea. The moonlight on the horizon illuminated the fog, making the hills look mystical and magickal as they rose from the bogs of the unknown upward toward the heavens of a star-filled sky.

“’Tis the cry of the
lone wolf again,” announced Sir Braden, rushing to his side. “It has been spotted many times in the past few weeks making its way over the mountains and through the bogs. ’Tis huge and black. Quite larger than any wolf ever seen. I think its home is somewhere in the forests of Manterra.”

“Aye,” he answered, having seen the wolf several times himself while out riding late at night.
He often left the castle when he couldn’t sleep, to ride the moors and to let the breeze flowing down from Mount Calila clear his head. The huge black wolf was a demon of sorts, he was sure of it. But something about it called to him and intrigued him. Just the same as the odd girl of the forest he now carried over his shoulder.

“Sir Braden, instruct
the steward to ready the tower room at once. And then call for the healer, as I would not have my new possession die before I’ve had a chance to enjoy her.”

“Of course, Lord Wolf
e. Right away.” Sir Braden took off in a hurry.

Wolf
e continued his trek into the great hall. He stopped near the hearth, shooing away the stragglers sleeping near the fire who obviously hadn’t heard the wagging tongues or they would have been in the courtyard as well. He laid the girl on the ground next to the fire to warm her cold skin. Then he grabbed a tankard of ale offered to him by a servant. Sitting upon the bench of the trestle table, he crossed his booted feet in front of him as he surveyed the girl they’d called Rae-Nyst.

Comely, she was, for an odd creature of the forest. He surveyed her button nose and lush pink lips, thinking she looked so different than any of the women he’d ever known. Her hair was long, trailing down aroun
d her shoulders, and he was almost getting used to the odd pink hue of the front locks. Very odd indeed. Her skin looked smooth, but she was even paler now than when she’d collapsed in his arms at the henge.

That p
ainting on her face was embarrassing, and he licked his thumb and bent over to try to rub it off, but it held fast. He didn’t want anything or anyone odd in his castle. Or at least not where anyone could see it. He’d planned on keeping her hidden, but that was no longer an option since the inhabitants of his castle and demesne had already seen her.

Still, h
e’d strived to be ‘normal’ after the ridicule he’d received for enjoying oddities as a child. He didn’t need any tongues wagging behind his back. He rubbed it again, but the paint would not even lessen. ’Twas as if it were branded into her body. And that damned wreath of mistletoe and flowers around her head looked totally ridiculous as well.

He reached up
and ripped off her headpiece, tossing it into the fire. Flames shot up as the greenery curled and turned to black smoke, leaving an acrid stench in the air. He could see her ears much better now, and couldn’t help himself from reaching out and tracing the semi-pointed tip with the end of his finger.

She stirred
, then and moaned in her sleep, now sounding just as alluring as she looked. He’d broken his own rule by bringing an oddity into his castle. He would pay for this dearly, he was sure of it. And he already regretted his action.

“Lord Wolf
e,” said a chambermaid with a slight curtsey, “the tower room is prepared for your . . . guest.”

He n
oticed her staring at the forest girl’s ears with a look of horror upon her face.

“You’re dismissed,” he told her with a slight nod, and watched as she picked up her skirts and darted away. He saw her stop by a group of the
castle’s help and whisper something and point toward the girl sleeping on the rushes near the fire.

He didn’t like this at all. Tongues were already wagging and he’d give them no more opportunity
to do so this night. He placed his tankard on the table and scooped up the girl in his arms. Then with wide steps he headed out of the great hall past the onlookers whispering amongst themselves, and climbed the circular stone staircase that led to the tower.

One kick of his leg sent the door swinging open. Several servants were inside lighting candles a
nd bustling about. They stopped when he entered, and he ignored them as he made his way towards the bed.

“Out! All of you,” he shouted, tired of gawkers. They obliged quickly and he climbed the two-steps up the dais that housed the
large pallet stuffed with straw, sitting atop a wooden structure. He threw her down upon it, shaking his head. “You’d better not die,” he said, angered at her frail nature.

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