The Mercenary Knight

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2011 Elyzabeth M. VaLey

ISBN:
978-1-927368-18-3

Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

Editor: JC Chute

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

“
A writer only begins a book. A reader finishes it.
”

Samuel Johnson

Thank you for finishing it.

THE MERCENARY KNIGHT

Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Conrad kneeled next to the woman and placed his hand on her wrist, searching for a pulse.

“This one lives,” he called to his companions. With two quick strides, Wybert materialized at his side. The black giant crouched next to him and stared at the woman for a few moments before finally speaking.

“You certain?”

“Aye, she has a pulse. She’s simply out cold and bruised, but alive.”

“What do you propose we do with her?” Johann asked. He walked towards them, sheathing his sharp dirk. Conrad raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I saved the guard a few hours of suffering.”

Conrad nodded in understanding and went back to examining the woman. Her reddish-brown hair was tied back in a messy plait. Underneath her right eye she had an old bruise, quickly turning yellow, and in the back of his mind he wondered who had hit her. There was dried blood on her brow and dirt stains streaked her cheekbones. Her nose was slightly swollen and dusted with freckles. Conrad gingerly touched it, testing to see if it was broken. It wasn’t. Her lips were full and even in sleep had a certain pout to them.

“By the looks of her, I’d say she was a serving maid, if not of a more liberal line of work.” Conrad looked up as the last approaching member of their party of four, Grigorii, spoke.

“Aye,” Conrad agreed. Her clothes, a low-cut white chemise, brown bodice and matching skirt indicated that Grigorii’s guess was probably correct. “The rest of the group?”

Wybert shook his head. “All dead. I believe the bandits that caused this mess took her for dead as well,” he said, indicating with his head the girl at their feet.

“Or they simply didn’t find her.” Johann shrugged. “Nonetheless, what do we do with her?”

“We take her with us,” Conrad answered without hesitating.

Grigorii chuckled. “We’re mercenaries and brigands. What do you suggest we do with a woman? Besides the obvious, of course,” he added. Wybert and Johann laughed, but Conrad said nothing for a few minutes. He studied the woman. Once the bruises and the swelling disappeared, she would be a lovely sight. A few strands of hair had fallen over her closed eyes. Conrad silently wished that she would open those eyes so he could catch a glimpse and see what color they were.

Conrad’s gaze roamed lower. Even underneath the clothes, he could tell that her form was supple and well rounded. Unbidden, the question of whether she had any freckles on other parts of her anatomy came to his mind. He shook his head and regarded the steady rise and fall of her chest, the top of her creamy breasts tantalizing him. Conrad bit back a groan as the image of her ripe breasts filling his hands assaulted his mind, and he forced himself to look away. They couldn’t leave her here. Most mercenaries and brigands weren’t as kind as his men were, and they would probably ravage her body in an instant.

“Conrad’s right. We have no employment now. It would do no harm to help the girl and take her with us to the nearest village,” Wybert said.

Johann groaned. “To Wilton? What have we to do in a village?”

“Stop complaining, Johann. It’s been decided, we’ll take her with us. Besides, maybe in Wilton we can find some decent work, a hot bed and a meal for a change. I tire of hiding in the forest.”

Getting to his feet, Conrad motioned to Grigorii. The blond stooped down and easily scooped the unconscious girl into his arms. She whimpered in pain as he picked her up.

“She’ll ride with me. If we deviate from the road a few miles north from here, we’ll find a glade where we can rest for the night.” He climbed atop his horse. “Here,” Conrad said.

Grigorii handed him the girl, and Conrad accommodated her in front of him. He encircled her waist with one of his hands and held the horse’s reins with the other. Once his comrades had mounted, Conrad kicked his horse and led the way back to the muddy trail. The men rode in silence, accustomed to being alert for any sign of trouble.

Conrad remained cognizant of his surroundings, but his mind wandered. He fully understood now the men’s reluctance to take a woman with them. She was proving to be a distraction, her firm bottom having nestled back against his groin, grinding against it at every step the horse took. The road’s condition didn’t help much, for The King’s Highway was little more than a cleared dirt path, still full of stones and pebbles. Conrad shifted in his seat, but only succeeded in smelling the essence of lilacs on the maiden’s hair. His cock tightened painfully against his britches.

“How can you smell so good after lying on the forest floor?” he muttered.

The horse skipped a stone and the woman’s ass rubbed against his shaft.
Damn his brilliant ideas.

Conrad slowed his horse to a gentle canter as they entered the open space and left the darkness of the thick forest. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Though the sun was setting, the sky still had a pinkish hue about it, which bathed the clearing in a soft glow. The grass was already green in this part of the woods, though some of the trees had barely started to sprout. The river gurgled nearby and birds sang their last tunes of the day. Conrad directed his horse to a spot he deemed safe for the animals and dismounted. His men followed. With the approaching night a cold wind had risen from the north. While riding, he had covered the maiden with his cloak, her baggage probably stolen by the thieves that had attacked the merchant. He wrapped the warm material tightly around her now before taking her into in his arms. As he tended to the maiden, the other men busied themselves preparing the camp for the night. Wybert was collecting firewood near one side of the clearing, and Johann brushed down the horses while Gregorii pulled out the sleeping mats. Conrad carefully dropped the woman near the fire and had barely turned his back on her, when she cried out. He hurried to her side, the other men a step behind. They all hovered over her, unsure of what to do. Conrad watched the girl carefully. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing haggard. A small smile played at her lips as she began to stretch, but upon opening her eyes her smile vanished. Conrad barely restrained himself from gasping. Her eyes were mesmerizing, the color of liquid gold. The girl blinked several times, slowly regaining full consciousness. Her gaze traveled from one face to the next, searching for a familiar one, but upon realizing she was among strangers, her face drained of color. Those amber eyes widened and she threw back the cloak. She tried to sit up, her fragile hands clenching the grass for support. "Don't move," Gregorii said with a gentle whisper. She paid him no heed. Her eyes roamed, searching for an escape route. Conrad could only guess at her thoughts as she tried to stand and take in the unknown surroundings. She finally managed to straighten her back, and Conrad crouched at her side to assist her further. She looked up at him, her eyes begging him not to hurt her. Before he could explain that they meant no harm, she retched all over his feet and trousers. Conrad swore under his breath.

From the shore, Grigorii openly laughed. “Clearly, your face was too much for her to swallow.” He tossed over a pair of clean breeches, and Conrad stormed out of the river’s bank.

“How does she fare?” The sun had finally set, and Conrad shivered while redressing. He gathered his cloak around him. At least she hadn’t thrown up on that.

“She was still unconscious when I left her, but Johann was cleansing her wounds. She must have taken a nasty blow to the head. You think she remembers what happened with the merchant?”

“We’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?” Conrad growled. He was in a bad mood. His ride to the glade had been painfully uncomfortable and now, in manner of thanks, the maiden had vomited upon him. It was a good thing he always carried a change of clothes, but still, bathing in the cold river at night was not to his enjoyment.

The men walked back to the campsite. Wybert prepared a meal over the low-burning fire while Johann sharpened his rapier. The girl lay asleep near the fire, wrapped in some blankets.

“I hope you washed her before putting those mantles over her.”

Johann nodded. He lifted his sword to the light and searched for any sign of imperfection. With a sly smile, he pointed the weapon at a bundle of clothes to the side of the girl.

“You took off her clothes?” Conrad bellowed.

“Shush, man, you’ll wake her up. What did you want me to do? Leave her stinking in her own waste? I’ve lent her some of my hose, and with the long chemise she’ll be comfortable enough for the night.” Johann resumed wiping down the blade.

“And tomorrow morning,” Conrad said, grinding his teeth, “you expect to find the skirt clean and mended by the magical tree fairies?”

Johann laughed. “Good Lord, Conrad, what’s with you? I’ll clean it now, as soon as I’m done with the sword. I was waiting for you to finish in the river, and I didn’t want to leave Wybert alone here.”

Conrad frowned but decided to remain silent. He approached the girl and regarded her. Johann had cleaned her face of dirt and blood, undone her braid and combed back her hair. Her semblance was peaceful, her lips slightly parted as she breathed evenly in her sleep. Conrad passed a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe that Johann had stripped her naked. He suppressed a groan of frustration. While Johann had seen and touched her lush body, he had spent hours riding with a raging hard-on. The woman turned in her sleep and his gaze slipped to where her ass rested. His shaft began to grow at the memory and he quickly sat down next to her, lest the other men see his discomfort.