Warrior (44 page)

hand covered her lips and a sharp

blade pressed to her neck.

“Listen, carefully, Jaisyn.” It was

Dax’s voice. “You are to tell my

brother and my father that you were

unhappy with Vulcan of Morden.

That he forced the marriage. That it

was not blessed by your High

Priestess. That your father had no

agreement with the man. You will

agree with everything I say and you

will say nothing to contradict me. Do

you understand?”

Jaisyn remained impassive. She

would do no such thing. His hand

tightened around her mouth and the

knife moved lower, slowly passing her

breasts, to rest menacingly on her

belly.

“Do you understand, now?” he

repeated cruelly, slapping the flattened

edge against her skin. The sting made

her flinch. She nodded immediately.

He released her mouth and placed a

soft kiss on her lips. She blanched and

fought the urge to wipe him from her

body.

“Good,” was all he said before he

left her tent for his own.

***

arrival, Azarius of Sulan had treated

her with respect. He’d insisted she be

gowned appropriately in clothing

befitting a queen and had asked for

her companionship at his table for

every meal. Jarel and Dax usually

joined them, and Jaisyn, although she

replied to questions, was very aloof.

She could feel the intense stares of

both Jarel and Dax pinning her at all

times.

It was at one such meal—lunch—

that Jaisyn felt the worst betrayal of

all. She had been thinking to excuse

herself to the room in which she

currently stayed, when the doors to

the hall were pushed open and first

Kegan, then Tarbin and Malcolm, all

smiling, walked in, along with a

significant, but in no way large, group

of Mitherian soldiers.

Kegan did not surprise her in the

least. She’d overheard conversations

between Azarius, Dax, and Jarel, as

they spoke of the legitimacy Kegan’s

claim to her throne. She had longed to

shout that Kegan would never hold

Lytheria so long as she lived. Even if

Vulcan were to fall in battle, which

she was certain that he would not, her

child, if male, would be heir to the

Lytherian throne. And if female,

Varian would take the throne. But she

remembered Dax’s warning, and kept

her silence.

But what was Tarbin doing in

Sulan? And why was Malcolm here as

well? She knew the answer but

refused to believe it. They wouldn’t.

They would not join forces against her

and side with a sniveling bastard such

as Kegan. Her eyes were full of

emotion as she surveyed Malcolm. He

was as close to her as a brother. Why

would he agree to stand with Kegan

against her husband… against her?

Kegan’s smile was mocking as he

bowed deeply to her first and spoke in

a voice infused with fake affection.

“Cousin. It is good to see you.”

When she refused even to give him

an answer, he turned with flourish and

addressed the rest of the men. Tarbin,

bowing, offered her a genuine smile

and was deeply surprised when Jaisyn

closed her eyes and turned her gaze

from him. Perplexed, he greeted the

other men gathered. Malcolm was

last, and although he did not smile as

Tarbin had, he bowed and obviously

expected she would acknowledge

him. Jaisyn did no such thing. She

turned her head to the side.

They had betrayed her. Her chair

screeched loudly as she pushed

herself up.

Six pairs of male eyes turned to her.

Some looked on with concern, others

were more threatening.

“Please excuse me, King Azarius,

my lords,” she began bitingly, glaring

at both Tarbin and Malcolm as she did

so. “I find I have lost my appetite.”

She did not wait to be excused.

Instead, she turned and strode from

the table. Her mind reeled. If Tarbin

was in league with Kegan, she could

not go to Mitherie. She would have to

find a way back to Lytheria. She

would have to outwit her guards and

an entire army, but she would find a

way. For the sake of her babe, she

had to.

***

Malcolm watched her leave and

quickly surveyed the men around him.

Dax did not look concerned, merely

irritated, while Kegan seethed. On

their journey, Kegan told them that

Jaisyn was under the protection of the

Sulanese king, after she’d fled

Vulcan. Although Malcolm had been

surprised that Jaisyn had fled her

husband, he couldn’t help the thought

that came immediately to his mind:

she was now available. And that had

distracted from a crucial fact, that

Jaisyn would not
flee
from anyone.

Seeing her storm from the table

corrected his memory and after a

moment, he begged leave and went

after her. He caught a glimpse of her

full skirts as she quickly ascended the

stairs. A soldier followed her at a

discreet distance, taking up position

before her chamber door once she’d

entered.

Malcolm

approached

cautiously.

The soldier, a Sulanese man,

immediately reached for his weapon.

Malcolm held up his hands.

“I am a Mitherie soldier. I seek to

speak with the queen.”

The sentry shook his head in denial.

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed on the

solider. “Why am I not to see the

queen?”

“The queen is not receiving visitors,”

he replied calmly.

Malcolm felt himself grow angry.

“On whose orders?” he demanded,

knowing Jaisyn could not have given

that order. She hadn’t spoken to the

soldier as she’d brushed past him.

The guard faltered for a fraction of a

second before standing tall once more.

“The King of Sulan so orders it.”

“The Sulanese king would not—”

Malcolm stopped himself. “So be it. I

will bring the king himself!”

As if sensing the man before him

was of such importance to do just

that,

the

soldier

coughed

and

grumbled. “Five minutes!”

Malcolm passed him a scathing

glance. The man moved to the left,

and Malcolm pushed the door in and

entered the sunny bed chambers.

Forgetting propriety, he closed the

door firmly behind him.

***

Unseen by all, a servant watched

Malcolm enter the queen’s chambers,

before scampering down to the lower

floor and heading past the soldiers and

into the city. He had new information

about the exiled queen, and he licked

his lips in greed as he thought about

how much coin this information would

fetch.

***

“Have you come to threaten me into

silence once more? I can assure you it

is not necessary. You may leave.”

Jaisyn did not have to turn around to

know that Dax had entered the room.

No one else was allowed to visit her in

her quarters. He’d made sure of that

by appointing one of his men to guard

her door.

“Jaisyn, you must tell me the

meaning of this!”

As the surprise of Malcolm’s voice

touched her ears, she jumped up from

the cushions upon which she was

sitting and looked at him with wide

eyes.

He approached her and gently took

her by the shoulders. His eyes were

warm, curious. “Are you being held

against your will? For we were told

that you left Morden of your own will.

That you saw Vulcan as a tyrant and

thought your marriage null.”

Jaisyn’s eyes narrowed as she

stared at him. Malcolm’s gaze

searched hers.

It was true. Malcolm had not

betrayed her after all. He’d thought he

was riding to her aid. She looked to

the door, knowing they did not have

much time.

“Malcolm,”

she

said

urgently,

staring into the face of her most

trusted friend. “Dax threatened to kill

Isolde if I did not leave with him. He

has been threatening me ever since to

make me keep my silence. You must

find my sister and free her. He told

me she was being held in Morden, but

it was a lie to get me to agree to leave

with him. She is somewhere else,

most likely at one of Kegan’s seats—

Neren, or Rothmere…”

Malcolm blinked down at her.

“Are you sure she’s being held

captive?” Malcolm asked as his brows

knitted in confusion.

Jaisyn nodded immediately. “Dax

presented me with proof: a lock of her

hair and our mother’s chain.”

Malcolm nodded. “We have to get

you out here,” he told her, his eyes on

the high windows in her chambers.

“No!” she shook her head furiously.

“They will not harm me. You must

find Isolde. Please. Find my sister

first.”

There was a rude knock at the door

and Malcolm glared at it. Jaisyn’s

hand touched his face, bringing his

attention back to her.

“Isolde. You must find Isolde.”

***

“Tank ye, sir. Yer right generous

wit the likes of auld Egan,” the gleeful

servant whispered happily, clutching

the gold coin to his bosom and bowing

as he backed his scrawny body out of

the small room.

The man absorbed the information

he had just received from the greedy

little beggar. He could be lying. But

regardless of how it would affect his

king, this news must be disclosed. The

man headed into the courtyard of the

inn, where he’d recently rented this

small room, and jumped atop his

horse. Within moments, the man,

dressed in the garments of a Sulanese

tradesman, was heading from the city.

***

After sharing his newly acquired

information with an enraged Tarbin,

the two men, along with their

Mitherian escort, left Sulan under the

pretense they were heading to

Mitherie for more soldiers. As soon as

they crossed the border, they rode

east. They were passing through a

particularly thick foliage of trees, a

path that would surely lead them into

the Lytherian countryside, when a

voice came, loud and cold.

“And what ‘ave we here? Lost

soldiers

so

near

the

Lytherian

countryside?”

Malcolm and Tarbin had watched in

mounting dread as one by one, soldier

after soldier had stepped from the

trees until their entire entourage was

surrounded. Malcolm’s dread lasted

all of ten seconds, until the man who

spoke stepped forward, the large

smirk on his face quickly replaced by

a smile, followed swiftly by a frown.

“Malcolm?” the Lytherian soldier

asked in surprise.

Jumping from his horse, Malcolm

walked over to the lieutenant and

clasped him in a hug.

“Fallon, ’tis good to see you,” he

told the man earnestly. Fallon had

been one of his closet friends when all

had been well in Lytheria. The man

clapped him on the back, and

demanded an explanation for his

months missing. Then, as if suddenly

remembering

something,

Fallon

stepped away from Malcolm and said

stonily, “I have to escort you to the

king, Malcolm Sudbury. ’Tis said you

are forsworn.”

A murmur went up among the

soldiers gathered and Tarbin passed

Malcolm a look of confusion. He did

not know of all the circumstances

surrounding Malcolm’s arrival in

Mitherie. Now he had to trust his

friend would tell him in due course.

Malcolm turned for his horse and

swung easily into his saddle. He

motioned for Fallon to lead the way.

“What is this I hear—of you being

forsworn?” Tarbin asked softly.

Unsure of how to reply, Malcolm