Read The Hellion (The Lady Knights of Barony Book One ) Online
Authors: Elise Marion
The Hellion (The Lady Knights of Barony Book One )
The Lady Knights of BaronyElise Marion
The Hellion
Elise Marion
Copyright 2013
by Elise Marion
Edited by Christine
Kirchoff
Cover Art by
Mumson Designs
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or people, living or dead, is coincidental.
Dear
Reader,
If you are new to the Kings of Cardenas series, or the Lady Knights of Barony, I welcome you to a world that is part Fantasy, part History, and filled with decadence, passion and romance. When I first came up with the concept for the Lady Knights, it was as a part of my Kings of Cardenas series. These brave women touched the hearts of so many of my readers that I couldn’t help but delve into their stories and their world.
So, in August of 2012 I published ‘The Lady Knights of Barony’ a 134,000 word epic novel in three parts detailing the lives of three of the lady knights. These stories had such an impact on me that I decided to create a spin-off series of books about more of these warrior women and the men who love them. What you have downloaded is a novella length story, book one, which is book one of the original novel. Books two and three will be very swift to follow. By breaking the original three stories up into novellas and publishing them separately, I hope to spread the lady knights around to even more new readers and introduce you to my idea of the Alpha heroine. By the end of this year, I plan to continue this series independent of the one that birthed it, with many more lady knight stories to come. I hope that you enjoy this story and the ones that follow.
Happy Reading and Much Love,
Elise
Contents
Barony 1835
Riders cloaked in black hovered on the horizon like a swarm of angry wasps. The up and down motion of horses galloping was reminiscent of ships bobbing up and down on ocean waves. In a matter of minutes, the rebels would swarm the village. They would not ask for permission to enter, nor would they pause for pleasantries. Even from this distance, one could see that the intent of these riders was deadly.
Magnus Longley quickly locked the door to his shop, the tiny smithy at the heart of Gladstone. It was the most relied-upon business in the village. Everyone knew that Magnus Longley could be counted on when it came to the repair of a skillet or plow point. He was also a damn fine sword smith. As Magnus walked away from his shop, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, uttering a silent prayer that the small building would still be standing in the morning.
His long legs ate up the distance between the marketplace and his home. All around him people ran, their baskets full of supplies and their arms full of weapons. Tonight, they would do battle to save Gladstone. His eyes met those of the people he’d known his entire life; Matthew the baker, who now carried a sharpened axe, Timothy the reverend, who had traded in his Bible for a rifle, Grace the seamstress, who closed her shop with tears in her eyes and a dagger at her belt. Most of these people did not stand a chance, but by God, they would not go down without a fight.
Magnus’s heart swelled with pride as he turned down the lane toward the small two-bedroom cottage he shared with his wife and daughter. He was proud of the home he’d made with his beautiful Bella. His craftsmanship combined with her feminine touches created a cozy little corner of the world just for them. It was no castle, but as far as Magnus was concerned, it was fit for a king.
He could hear his wife and daughter bustling around as he neared the door. Magnus knew that they would be following his instructions to the letter as he had prepared them for this event.
The rebellion in Barony had come to a raging climax a few months ago when the king and queen were ruthlessly killed on the front steps of Guthrie Hall. Now the rebels were sweeping through the province, demanding loyalty for their leader, the merciless Silas Winthrop. Outraged by the murder of their beloved sovereigns, the people weren’t having it. They were fighting back, inciting riots and battles in the streets of Barony’s villages. Even those of noble blood were no longer safe, as evidenced by the deaths of the king and queen. Barony’s courtiers were prepared to fight as well. Just the other day Magnus had sharpened a sword for a young lord prepared to join the common man in battle.
Bella greeted him at the door, a rifle strapped to her back. Tendrils of honey blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, falling loose from the bun at the nape of her neck. Her Cupid’s bow mouth was pinched and her cornflower blue eyes filled with worry. She held twin pistols in her hands, one of which she gave to him. Once he had taken it and shoved it into the waistband of his trousers, he accepted his axe from her as well. She lifted the lid of his arms trunk and placed a curved dagger in their daughter’s hand before peeling back the rug in the center of the sitting room. He opened the square trapdoor he’d built into the floor and ushered Ava into the tiny nook he’d carved out beneath the house.
As his eyes met hers, his heart melted, and he vowed to protect his family at all costs. Ava was the jewel of his heart, a miracle child that had come after years of heartache.
He and Bella loved each other deeply now, but it had not always been so. Her greedy, poor parents had sold her to Magnus’ father to repay a debt. Bella was given to Magnus as a gift.
Even then, he’d thought himself unworthy of her delicate beauty. He’d been afraid to touch her with his meaty hands, afraid to hurt her with his massive body. Magnus knew that Bella could never look upon his hardened, gruff face and feel the stirrings of desire.
As much as he’d wanted her and as beautiful as she’d been, he stayed away from her that first year. In time, they’d fallen in love and his young bride had come to his bed willingly, enthusiastically. She became pregnant almost immediately, much to Magnus’ satisfaction. Months later, she came home from working as a shopkeeper’s assistant with blood staining the front of her dress.
They had buried three deformed, tiny babies and lost all hope of ever having a child. Bella had fallen asleep many nights, crying in his arms, refusing to allow him his marital rights for fear of
another heartbreak. He was too sympathetic to her pain to push her, too saddened by the loss of three sons to try to convince her otherwise. They didn’t make love for almost a year.
In a fit of passion too strong to control, they’d forgotten themselves one night and conceived. Worried, Magnus commanded his wife to her bed. Nine miserable months on her back passed and Bella finally carried a baby for a full nine months.
The birthing had been long and hard. Bella nearly died bringing their fourth child into the world, but in the end, both mother and baby thrived. With the waning rays of sunlight beaming through his bedroom window, Magnus had stood holding a tiny bundle in his hands, studying her scrunched, red face with tears in his eyes.
He named her Ava; it meant ‘life’. It represented everything that she was, a living, breathing testimony of his love for Bella. With her mother’s face, his inky black hair
and gunmetal gray eyes, she was certainly a wondrous creation.
As she gazed up at him from the hidden chamber in the floor now, Magnus willed her with his eyes to remember all that he’d taught her. The use of weapons was something he felt every person had a right to know, including the women he loved. He accepted his second pistol from Bella and lowered it into Ava’s hands.
“Remember,” he said with a forced smile.
Ava clutched the pistol and dagger tightly in her small hands and nodded silently, her wide eyes boring into his.
Suddenly, the door to the cottage was flung open and Magnus’ sister, Julia, came barreling in with her husband and daughter hot on her heels. Julia and Stephan carried weapons as well. Stephan thrust a pistol into the hands of his daughter, Nell, who was just a few years older than Ava. Julia and Bella often joked that Stephan and Magnus treated their daughters like the sons they wished they had. Magnus and Stephan insisted that it was not true, though as he slammed the trapdoor shut over the two girls, he was grateful that they’d been raised they way they had. No two girls could be more prepared for an attack.
Bella and Julia took their places beside the two windows facing the front of the house. The sound of horse hooves was thunderous and the clamor of screams could soon be heard. Magnus knew that the rebels would be upon them in a matter of minutes. He paused beside Bella and crushed her slight frame against his large one, pressing her up against his chest and placing a kiss on the top of her blonde head. She gazed up at him with tears in her eyes and the hands clutching the rifle shook.
“Last chance to run,” he said, fighting back the lump that had risen in his throat.
“I will remain beside you,” she said, her musical voice warming his heart as it always did.
“Unto death.”
The four fell silent as the sounds of screams and gunshots rang out through the village. The rebels were here, killing, raping and pillaging. Tears rolled down Bella’s cheeks at the sound of women’s screams. Many of them were her friends and Magnus knew that her heart hurt for them.
They waited in silence, not one of them moving or breathing. Magnus’ eyes met Stephan’s and he nodded as the two came to a silent agreement. Horses were coming down the lane. The two men would go out to meet them together.
Magnus gripped the handle of his battle-axe tightly, his eyes flashing silver in the waning sunlight as the rebels approached. Stephan slapped a massive club against his palm rhythmically, his eyes locked on the approaching rebels as well. Surprise tore through him as he recognized the leader of the rebellion leading the small group of rebels toward his home.
“You must be Magnus Longley.”
Silas’ voice was smooth and silky. It reminded Magnus of a serpent slithering along the ground. Silas sat erect in the saddle, his dark brown waves peppered with silver. His equally dark eyes gleamed with mirth as he brought his men to a halt behind him.
“What do you know of Magnus Longley?” Stephan’s question was curt and barked out from between clenched teeth. Magnus could feel his friend’s seething, hot anger.
