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Authors: Violette Dubrinsky

Tags: #erotic MM, #Romance MM

Warrior (46 page)

BOOK: Warrior
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large cats, only to pummel each other

with calculated moves.

It lasted many minutes, with

Malcolm forcing the king back with

quick and unexpected lances before

Vulcan regained the advantaged and

began driving Malcolm away with the

strength and power behind his thrusts.

Malcolm moved with agility and

grace, side-stepping blows that would

have sent him to an early grave, and

retaliating impressively for a man

fighting the warrior known for his

battle-earned skills.

The fight came to its climax when

Vulcan’s sword slashed down on

Malcolm’s arm hard and a deep groan

was heard as Malcolm leapt back.

Deep red began to stain his armor.

With an oath, Malcolm rushed the

king and fought like a man possessed.

He was too late. The king had been

possessed by vices enough to cleave

his head from his own body, had he

so desired. Vulcan was baiting him.

Another slash to the weakened part of

his armor. This time blood trickled

from a cut to his other arm. As pain

took both of his arms, Malcolm felt

himself

weakening.

Felt

death

approaching. Both of his arms hurt,

and Vulcan’s strength seemed twice

that of another opponent as he

barreled his sword against him.

Malcolm moved aside, so that he

might see his father’s face one last

time before he was called to Lyria.

Urian was pale, his eyes on Malcolm.

He bowed his head stiffly to his

father. Urian followed through this

time, doing the same. He was about to

lose his only son.

Vulcan charged Malcolm, knocking

him and his sword to the ground. His

sword pressed against Malcolm’s

neck and he leaned down to look the

other man in the eye. Malcolm braced

himself, saying a prayer to Lyria and

preparing for a quick death.

“A warrior’s death is not fitting for

you. I will give you a death befitting

your status. To be hung, drawn, and

when near death, have your head

cleaved from your body…as your

lover watches. It is more than a traitor

deserves.”

With that, Vulcan leapt from him

and

rough

hands

were

pulling

Malcolm up. He heard Vulcan’s voice

ordering the men to bind him, and

then

he

was

being

dragged

somewhere. The pain from the two

deep cuts in his arms and the loss of

blood was making him weak. He

slumped forward as the blackness

took him.

***

Jaisyn knew when the Sulanese

spotted soldiers of Morden. She was

sitting in the Great Hall, with Dax and

the king, when Kegan burst in, a grim

smile on his face.

“The men have spotted warriors

heading this way, wearing the colors

of the Wolf. It shan’t be long before

they are upon us.” He turned his sly

gaze to Jaisyn, who’d half-risen from

her seat and bowed low. “Soon, it will

be over, cousin, and Lytheria will

once more be in the hands of the St.

Ives.”

Azarius addressed him before Jaisyn

could respond, and for that she was

glad. She’d been close to hurling

every curse she’d ever heard from

Malcolm and the soldiers on his head.

“How many soldiers have been

spotted?”

Kegan turned his attention to the

king, who sat upon his comfortable

chair with his hands clasped before

him.

“An estimate of forty thousand,

King Azarius.

Jarel

is

already

preparing the men. We will ride out to

meet them.”

***

Kegan could have shouted at the joy

he felt. If things went right, the

Sulanese army would crush the

soldiers and in a no more than a few

days, he would be crowned king. He

turned to look at Dax, whose eyes

were riveted on him. Dax, his closet

friend, his companion. He would give

him a title, an earl or perhaps a duke,

make him a wealthy lord in the

Lytherian kingdom. Dax smiled easily,

as if he could see the thoughts swirling

through

Kegan’s

mind,

before

focusing on his father, who was

speaking to Jaisyn.

***

Nodding, Azarius turned to face

Jaisyn, who sat at his right. A book

she hadn’t been reading lay casually

in her lap. He reached out and

touched her hand gently.

“It will all be over soon, my dear,”

he said reassuringly. The blue of his

eyes was not as bright as his sons’,

but they shone the knowledge borne

of years of power.

Jaisyn began to shake her head,

prepared to say what she should have

from the moment she realized Azarius

was quite unaware of her true

situation.

As if sensing that she would speak,

Dax stood suddenly. “Yes, it will. I

will now return the queen to her

chambers, my liege, where she will be

safe. Will you join us in this battle,

liege?”

Jaisyn was already standing when

he asked that question and she prayed

that Azarius

responded

in

the

negative. He was older than her

father, and seemed too frail for battle.

His response was quick and easy.

“Jarel will lead our soldiers into battle,

Dax. I will hold the castle.”

Dax gave Jaisyn his arm and

although repulsed, she placed her

hand on it. “Of course, liege. But I

can assure you, with your army at our

disposal, those soldiers will not see a

brick in this castle.”

A small smile touched the king’s lips

and he waved his hand in dismissal.

***

Jaisyn waited until she heard the

sound of hundreds of horses filing out

of the castle. She waited until she

heard the creaks of the portcullis as it

was lowered and the drawbridge

lifted. She waited minutes before

drawing a deep, steadying breath. It

was now or never.

Walking over to the door, she

knocked as she had done numerous

times. It was always the same soldier,

a tall Sulanese man who had a foul

temper and a nastier face.

“What

is

it?”

he

demanded

immediately after he opened the door

and poked his head in.

She smiled in her most seductive

manner. “It grows very lonely in my

chambers, soldier.”

She had changed into a dress the

color of scarlet, with a bodice so low

she wondered who’d had had the

audacity to wear it before her. As she

was currently staying in a room that

had belonged to one of Azarius’s

daughters,

she

guessed

that

it

belonged to the princess. Still, she

could not see a lady, much less a

royal, wearing such a gown as this.

The guard’s face relaxed a fraction

and the snarl that was ever present

became less prominent.

“Aye?” he asked, looking down the

hallway before returning his gaze to

her face, and the low bodice of her

dress.

Jaisyn nodded and stepped away

from the door slowly. “Aye. Very

lonely.”

He glanced around once more

before entering her chambers, and

turning to lock the door from the

inside. It was all she needed. The

empty steel chamber pot she’d held

behind her back crashed loudly

against the back of his head. He

turned to face her with a look of

confusion and pain, and Jaisyn quickly

reached forward and pulled his sword

from its scabbard, thinking the man

had a head of stone. She did not need

it. She’d barely moved out of his way

before he fell forward, landing on his

face with a sharp thud. She used her

foot to prod him once, twice, and

satisfied that he would not be getting

up anytime soon, pulled the key from

the door and stepped out, locking him

in.

The hallway was clear. No servants

bustled about. No maids gossiped as

they went about tasks. Swallowing,

she headed for the solar, hoping that

King Azarius had retired there and

praying that Dax was nowhere in the

castle. She knew that Kegan had left

but if Dax was still here, and he saw

her roaming the castle, there would be

a confrontation, and a murder. She

had no doubt that it would be his, but

that would lead to chaos. Azarius

might not believe her after she killed

his son. He might have her locked in a

dungeon or murdered or worse. She

sighed. It would be best if Dax were

riding to meet her husband. Even

better if her husband or one of his

warriors slayed him on the battlefield.

***

Azarius was not in the solar but in

his study, surrounded by loyal

generals who had decided to wait at

the castle with their lord. Jaisyn burst

in and the men immediately turned to

her, their hands reaching for their

weapons before they recognized a

woman. As their eyes slid down to the

sword she held, a few reached for

their weapons once more, but did not

draw. Jaisyn scanned every face.

None were Dax.

“King Azarius, I must speak to you

at once. It is of dire import—a matter

of life and death,” she declared.

The king nodded and dismissed his

generals, some of whom seemed on

the verge of protesting. She placed the

sword against the wall and walked

toward him. Drawing in a deep

breath, she allowed the words to fall

from her lips, recounting everything

that

had

happened,

from

the

kidnapping, to the threats, to the

lies… When she was finished, Azarius

stared at her in shock, then rage took

over as he pushed himself from his

desk.

“I always wondered why you

looked so bleak for one separated

from a marauding husband. It has

become obvious now,” he mused

softly and then he was shouting

orders. His generals filed in and

listened, their faces showing surprise

followed swiftly by anger, as he sent

them on tasks. Relieved, Jaisyn sat

back in the chair and prayed that

whatever he did would not be too late.

Chapter 13

Jarel stared out at the men on the

other side of the large grassy area that

bordered Sulan. In the midst of them,

a banner with two snarling wolves

flew ominously in the wind. He

estimated, counting foot soldiers,

archers and horsemen, just over forty

thousand

men.

The

Sulanese

outnumbered them at least four to

one. The prowess of the Northern

Wolf was known through all the

kingdoms, and it seemed silly that he

would bring this paltry stand of men to

face the entirety of Sulan’s forces. It

was insulting. The Sulanese were a

race known for their stealth and

agility. They weren’t a kingdom of

buffoons and cowards.

With that in mind, Jarel looked

around for his brother, who had

surprisingly decided to take to the

field. That in itself was a bafflement.

From what he knew, Dax wasn’t

adept with any weapon, save the

crossbow and dagger. He’d watched

his brother play with a dagger once

and had to admit that he possessed a

rare skill. But that Dax was ready to

fight against men wielding swords just

baffled him. As did most things

leading to this battle. He did not know

why, but he was uneasy. Very

uneasy. Something was very off with

the entire skirmish. And it seemed to

all lead back to Jaisyn of Lytheria, the

cold, but beautiful queen.

“My liege, three men have broken

away from the ranks of the Morden

army. What is your command?” One

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