The Sword and the Sylph (Elemental Series) (16 page)

“Wha
t did you say?” He looked up so fast that he hit his head on the bar behind him. “Portia, do not tell me my father is inside the walls of Calila.”

“I didn’t want to tell you, Braden, but you need to know. He is the leader of the Klarens, and my stepmother traded me away to him for their help. Your father plans on taking me as his bride as soon as he claims Banesmoor as his own.”

“Like hell he does. I’ll kill that bastard if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

She’d never seen Braden so angry and now she regretted telling him about his father. His anger was only going to get him killed, and she was to blame.

He stuck his hands through the bars, using his dagger to easily pop open the lock. He then pushed open the metal door, pulled his legs back inside, and jumped down to the ground.

“Let’s go,” he growled, reaching for her horse.

“What about him?” she asked, pointing to the stablemaster, still swaying back and forth in the breeze.

“He can stay there and rot for all I care.
If we let him out he’s only going to get killed anyway.”

“Braden, how can you say that? Pleas
e, let him out of there. No man should be punished because of loving a woman.”

He
looked at her and she saw sincerity in his eyes that told her he’d meant what he’d said earlier. That he would do anything for her and die for her as well. He hurried over to the cage and handed Vance the dagger.

“I can’t reach the lock, you’ll have to do it yourself. And when you’re out of there, go straight to Lord Solomon and tell him where I went. I don’t want him to think I betrayed him
by escaping.”

“I would do as you ask,” said Vance, hurriedly popping open the lock and lowering himself from the cage. “I would tell him everything.” He held the dagger out for Braden to take.

“Keep the dagger,” said Braden. “And if a Klaren gets anywhere near you, kill him. Use it to protect that girl you love as well.”

“I would
, my lord.” The man turned to hurry away.

“But if you tell anyone about my father being a Klaren, I swear I would hunt you down myself and not think twice about sticking that dagger right through your heart.
Do you hear me?”

Portia heard the anger and vengeance in Braden’s voice, not liking the way his words were starting to sound a lot like Lord Muir
’s. She hoped his anger would not rule him. And she hoped the Klaren blood that flowed through his veins would never overpower the goodness she’d grown to love that he’d inherited from his mother.

Chapter 18

Braden rode furiously up the mountain, Portia cradled in his arms and leaning back against his chest sitting in front of him on the horse. It felt so good to be with her again, and he breathed in her scent of lilacs and fresh mountain air, engraving it upon his mind so he’d never forget it.

“Stay off the
main path and keep to the wooded areas,” Portia told him. “The entire mountain is crawling with Klarens and our only chance to not be captured is to keep hidden.”

Suddenly, he had an idea of how to get inside
the castle walls. And when he did, he knew he was going to head straight for his wretched father. He stopped the horse and she looked back to him in question.

“Braden, what are you doing?”

“Portia, I have two days to figure out how to either stop this war or defeat the Klarens. And that is never going to happen if I cower away from them and stay in hiding.”

“Whatever does that mean?” she asked in bewilderment.

“What I mean is that we don’t need to sneak in. We would ride right in through the front gate.”

“You are out of your mind.”

“Nay, I think it will work. You belong at the castle, and as you’ve said, they need your power of the kiss to heal their wounded. They would welcome you with open arms.”

“
Aye,” she agreed. “But what about you?”

“They would welcome me as well – once they find out who I really am and that I mean to join them in battle.”

“Braden, you make no sense. You almost sound as if you’re going to join the Klarens.”

“I am. Of course they won’t know I am not being sincere. Once they find out I am the son of their leader, they’ll respect me and welcome me with open arms.”

“’Tis too dangerous,” she dismissed the idea completely. “I can’t let you do it. Besides, do you really think you’d be able to convince your father you want to join forces with him? I’ve seen the hurt in your eyes as well as the vengeance that lies there. Nay, I don’t think ’tis a wise idea at all.”

“We have no other choice,” he said. “Now do not try to change my mind, because it’s already made up. I would gain their confidence and then betray them.”

“And how is any of this going to help Banesmoor or save my father’s men in the process?”

“I h
aven’t figured it all out yet, but just give me time.”

He directed the horse through the trees deeper into the forest and away from Calila.

“The castle is the opposite direction,” she told him.

“I know that, sweetheart. But we have two days before the battle. I’d like to spend at least one of what might be my last days upon this earth with you, Portia. And tonight I want no more talk of wars or Klarens.
Tonight would be just you and me wrapped in each others arms with no one or anything to come between us.”

Braden directed the horse to the far side of the mountain, not stopping until they’d reached the top. He dismounted and held his arms out for Portia. She put her
hands on his shoulders and he lifted her from the horse, scooping her up into his embrace, never wanting to let her go.

“Portia, I feel as if we have been cheated out of our time together. I have searched for you for so long, and now that I
have finally found you, I cannot help but feel that ’twill all be over soon.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Braden knew she felt it too.
Danger lurked all around them and no matter the outcome, people were going to die. He could only pray that it wouldn’t be either of them.

“Take me to the spring,” she said. “There is a fresh spring of water that opens to a field of wildflowers just ahead.”

He kissed her then, reveling in the feel of her soft full lips against his. She laid her head against his chest and he realized that he had never felt anything so right in his entire life.

“I don’t want this to ever end,” he told her.

“Then it doesn’t have to,” she replied.

He carried her over to the stream and set her down gently atop the
tall grass that grew alongside the bank. She put her arms around his shoulders and with her innocent blue eyes she looked right through him, making him feel as if she could read every thought in his mind.

She reached up and kissed him again and he felt himself melting in her embrace.

“Can you hear it?” she asked him softly.

“Hear what?” The only thing he could hear at the moment was the rapid beating of his own heart. He w
anted to make love to her so bad that even thoughts of his father and his horrid childhood were pushed momentarily to the corners of his mind.

“Listen,” she told him. “It’s all around us.”

“I don’t hear . . . ”

“Shhhhh,” she said, holding her finger to his lips to stop his words. “The fae are tuned into t
he elements. And they would talk to you if only you would only listen.”

He cocked his head and listened and co
uld hear the sound of birds chirping on the breeze. The sound of water falling playfully over the rocks made a rhythm all its own.

“I hear nature,” he said. “Is that what you mean?”

“Listen to the wind,” she told him. “Listen, and it would speak to you.”

“I can’t hear it,” he said, not understanding what she meant.

“That’s because you need to listen with your heart, not your head.”

“Portia, the only thing I hear is my body crying out for you.”

“Then mayhap we need to still that voice first before you can hear another.”

She pulled her gown from her shoulders, letting it quickly fall to the ground. Perhaps it was
the way of the fae, but she wore no undergarments. This only excited him more. He hurriedly removed his own clothing and followed her as she teased him, moving out into the stream, luring him to follow.

Then just as he approached, she ducked down beneath the water. The stream was shallow, only up to his waist
. She popped up next to him, shaking the water from her hair, standing there looking like a naked goddess. Her hair was wet and his eyes trailed the water droplets running in rivulets down her chest and over each breast.

He took her in
his arms, lowing his mouth to lick the water droplets from her. Her head went back, and she let out a tantalizing moan that managed to stir his loins even more. Her neck exposed, he trailed kisses down it, letting his hands fondle her breasts, slipping around to feel her firm buttocks as well.

Then, no longer able to hold back, he lifted her, straddling her legs around the front of him. He entered her then, feeling his length sheathed by her own glorious warmth. And together they made beautiful love, falling back into the water,
becoming one with the elements around them.

They hel
d each other closely and he lay back in the water holding her, both of them feeling sated. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman and his heart felt a stab right through it to know that by this time tomorrow one or both of them may be dead.

“Do you hear it now?” she asked softly, bringing him from his thoughts. “Still your mind and just listen.”

He took a deep breath and released it, letting his anger for his father and his fear of losing her drift away. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the glorious sun, feeling the kiss of the breeze upon his skin as it playfully drifted past.

Th
en he heard the most beautiful music on the wind, that he opened his eyes thinking Portia was causing it. She had her eyes closed and her face raised to the sun as well, floating on the water in his arms.

He heard it again, and this time the music turned into singing. Like a chorus of crickets in the depths of the night, he
was able to decipher their song as it turned into a whisper on the wind. And this time, he was even able to hear the air speaking to him. Aye, if he wasn’t mistaken, he could hear the voice of the wind and it spoke.

Portia, Portia-Maer, where are you? I need you by my side anon, daughter.

His eyes sprang open and Portia jerked in his arms as well. She looked at him with a frightened gaze and he knew exactly why.

“I heard it,” he said anxiously. “You heard it too, didn’t you?”

“’Twas my father,” she said, hurriedly making it to the shore. “My father calls for me and the breeze has brought me his message. We need to go anon, Braden. My father needs me at his side.”

“Of course,” he said, following her to the shore where they both donned their clothing quickly. “But tell me, is something wrong, Portia? Why does he call for you?”

She stopped and listened to the breeze again, but this time Braden could not hear anything. She looked up to him and he could see the tears gathering in her blue eyes.

“He calls
me to his side to say goodbye,” she told him. “Braden, my father is about to draw his last breath. He has not much longer upon this earth. He calls for me to be with him, because he is dying.”

Portia quickly mounted the horse, anxious to be back at the castle and at her father’s side. She knew now she never should have left him in the first place. He needed her and she was not there to comfort him in his darkest hour. She only hoped Juturna was at his side, as she knew her stepmother would be of no use at a time like this.

“Hurry,” she told Braden, “we haven’t much time.”

She looked at him curiously as he was ripping the surcoat with the wolf crest off his body and throwing it to the ground. Now he just wore the plain padded gambeson over his tunic.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“I am going to have a hard enough time convincing the Klarens I am one of them. I don’t need to saunter in there announcing the crest of the duke. If I do, they’ll strike me down before they bother to ask questions.

“Braden, stay here. I don’t want you
to go forward with your plan. ’Tis too dangerous, and I can’t let you do it.”

“You can’t
stop me,” he said. “I’ve made my decision and I intend to protect you as well as your father’s people even if I have to die doing it.”

She shook her head sadly, knowing he had no idea of what he’d just said. A fae never backs down from a challenge and by telling her she couldn’t stop him, she knew it was exactly what she had to do.

“I’m sorry, Braden, but I love you too much to let you lose your life for me.”

With that
she raised her hands upward, calling upon the air to help her restrain him. The wind picked up and as he stepped forward to mount the horse, he was blown backward, falling upon the ground.