Always Golden

by Gina Dickerson

  ‘You thought what precisely?’ Vilas advanced, keeping his sword steady.

  The soldier risked a glance at Oriana. A shiver of repulsion ran through her, he was the grinning soldier from outside, the one who had interrupted her and Vilas earlier.

  ‘I am waiting for your answer, Soldier.’ Vilas stood firm.

  The soldier’s fingers stopped hovering above the handle of his sword and grasped it instead. He raised his chin. ‘Why should you be the only one to enjoy the pleasures this farmstead has to offer?’

  Vilas pursed his lips. ‘Did it not escape your attention I was in another room and obviously not enjoying anything other than sleep?’ He tapped the soldier’s sword with the tip of his own. ‘Of course it did not, else you would not be here.’

  The soldier withdrew his sword. ‘You’re not fit enough to be Commander...you are nothing like your father!’ He thrust his sword at Vilas.

  Swiftly side-stepping, Vilas intercepted the soldier’s blade with his own. ‘I will not let you take what you want, is what you mean!’

  The soldier raised his sword again. ‘Commander Anearr knew how to treat his soldiers properly!’

  Oriana watched the men fight, shrinking further and further back against the wall. Vilas was faster, stronger, more skilled and he forced the soldier backwards. ‘Lay down your sword!’ he ordered.

  ‘Never to you!’ puffed the soldier.

  ‘So be it!’ With a roar, Vilas expertly fought the other man until the soldier was pressed against the window. ‘Do you relinquish now?’

  The soldier managed to slip his sword down and underneath Vilas’, catching Vilas in the side and drawing blood. ‘Never, you are a disgrace to our army...you are too soft!’

  The movement was so quick; if Oriana had dared to blink she would have missed it. Vilas expertly regained the advantage and sent the soldier crashing through the glass. A scream trail marked his descent until he hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Vilas strode over to the broken window and stuck his head out.

  ‘You lot,’ he shouted. ‘If anyone else tries anything, mark my words I will not allow him to escape with merely a few broken bones. Any move against the woman will result in death. Yours, not mine. Am I understood?’

  There was no response. Part of Oriana wanted to see how many soldiers were outside, yet the frightened part of her did not. Giving in to her fear, she clasped her knees to her chest and watched Vilas.

  He had expected something to happen, which was why he had told her to lock the door.

  ‘Am I understood?’ Vilas bellowed, making Oriana jump.

  Several voices outside rose in agreement.

  Vilas stuck out his hand on which he wore a ruby ring on his thumb. ‘This ring was given to me by King Hashir, I am your commander and any disobedience to me is an act of disobedience to the king himself.’ Pulling his head back into the room, he held out a hand.

  Oriana looked at it.

  ‘Come on,’ Vilas said. ‘There’s no way I’m leaving you in here on your own again. You’re coming with me.’

  Without hesitation, Oriana slipped out from under the cover and placed her hand in Vilas’. The warmth was reassuring. ‘You weren’t asleep, were you?’ She retrieved the lantern from the floor.

  ‘Half and half.’

  Oriana allowed Vilas to lead the way back to the larger bedroom. His undershirt was transparent with the light from the lantern dancing across it. She could see he was not wearing any undergarments. She smiled shyly, glad Vilas could not see her face.

  ‘You take the bed.’ Vilas locked the door behind them. ‘I’ll sleep on the floor.’

  Oriana set the lantern on the floor beside the bed. ‘No, you won’t.’

  Vilas placed his sword on top of the pile of his clothes on the floor by the opposite side of the bed. ‘Aren’t you betrothed?’

  ‘No, I am not.’ Oriana lifted the sheet and slipped beneath it and held it open.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘What, whether I am betrothed or whether I want you to join me?’

  ‘Do you want me in bed with you?’

  ‘I want you to hold me.’

  Vilas groaned. ‘You have no idea how difficult this is for me. I’m trying to be a gentleman.’

  Oriana’s heart flipped. There was no returning now. Once this line was crossed it could not be uncrossed.

  ‘Just hold me,’ she whispered, wanting more. ‘I will feel safer in your arms.’

  Vilas’ body was warm against hers once he slid under the covers. When he held his arms open she slipped into them. His heartbeat was strong and echoed in her ears as she pressed her head against his chest.

  ‘You are killing me,’ Vilas said with a groan.

  ‘I’m trusting you, surely that is better?’

  ‘Goodnight, Maerie,’ Vilas whispered.

  A pain stabbed Oriana.

  ‘Goodnight, Vilas,’ she whispered back, once more wishing to hear her real name upon his lips.

  Chapter Eight

  Vilas

  Vilas woke as soon as the sun rose in the morning. The curtains at the window were thin, allowing the morning light unhindered entrance. His bed companion was fast asleep, her long hair trailing across the crumpled sheets around her. It was a wonder she did not strangle herself in her sleep with her long tresses. Vilas smiled and pushed the sheet back on his side of the bed.

  It had been strange at first; lying in a bed with a woman he had not been intimate with. Maerie had drifted off to sleep in his arms and although it was unusual, he had enjoyed the feeling of protecting her.

  Bending over to kiss Maerie on the top of her head he stopped, spying marks on the sheets. He frowned.

  Why were the sheets so grubby? Hadn’t Maerie changed the sheets especially for him?

  Maerie shifted in her sleep, exposing an equally grubby mark in the dip of her pillow where her head rested. Reaching out, Vilas lifted a tendril of Maerie’s hair and gently rubbed it between his fingers. The action dirtied his fingertips a fraction. Pulling his undershirt over his head, he studied the front of it where Maerie’s head had rested.

  Dirty also.

  With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he dressed quickly. Tiptoeing from the bedroom he eased the key from the inside of the lock and softly closed the door. Unlike the other bedroom, this door had a proper lock, and for this he was partially grateful. He had to return to the castle as Hashir commanded and he did not want Maerie slipping away while he was gone.

  He rubbed his aching forehead.

  What was going on? Had he been blinded by beauty? He would talk to Maerie once he returned from the castle.

  Behind him, the door handle rattled.

  ‘Hey!’ Maerie shouted. ‘Open the door, I know you’re outside. I heard the lock turn!’

  Vilas sighed. He unlocked the door and stepped back inside, shutting the door behind him. ‘I thought you were still asleep.’

  Maerie’s eyes blazed. ‘So you just thought you would lock me in?’ Her hair hung in waves down her body, yet its mass did little to hide the fact that underneath her cotton nightdress, she was naked.

  Vilas’ body tingled. As much as he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her all over, he could not, not now.

  Not unless he was wrong about her.

  ‘Your hair is dyed.’

  Maerie’s jaw dropped. She glanced nervously at the bed, her face paling at the sight of the grubby sheets. She started to edge backwards, her eyes wide. ‘It’s not what you think.’

  Vilas walked back to the door, locked it, and slipped the key into his pocket. For a moment he pressed his forehead against the cool wood. Slowly, he turned back around. ‘Is it not?’

  Maerie shook her head.

  Vilas cricked his neck, trying to ease out the tension. ‘Tell me your hair isn’t dyed.’

  ‘Is there any point?’ Maerie lifted her chin.

  ‘None at all. I know it is dyed.’ Vilas retrieved his grubby undershirt from where he ha
d left it on the floor. ‘The dye rubbed off against me as I held you in my arms.’ Anger surged through him and he screwed the garment up into a ball and tossed it at Maerie. ‘Were you having fun, fooling me? I bet you were inwardly laughing at how you had managed to trick the commander of the king’s army into falling for your disguise.’ He clenched his fists. ‘All those sweet words you said to me were lies, weren’t they?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Tell me your name.’ Vilas gritted his teeth so hard they hurt.

  ‘You know my name.’

  ‘Your real name.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about! Why are you behaving like this?’ Maerie’s eyes swum with tears.

  ‘Stop lying!’ Vilas stomped across the room and reached for Maerie, she shied away from him but he grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him. ‘Tell me the truth. I deserve that at the very least, I protected you last night, and I went against one of my own men for you!’

  ‘So you wouldn’t have protected me if I was someone else other than the farmer’s daughter you thought I was, is that it?’

  Vilas softened. ‘Of course I would have.’ He touched her cheek, running his hand down over her neck until he felt the chain hanging around her neck. ‘I noticed this last night as you fell to sleep but I couldn’t see what was on the chain. No farmer’s daughter would be wearing a gold chain.’

  She did not protest as he eased the chain from inside of her nightdress. All the fight appeared to have gone from her. The pendant was large and warm from her body heat.

  Vilas sighed. ‘I had hoped I was wrong.’ He fingered the raised depiction of a dragon with a mane. ‘King Germaine’s coat of arms.’ Sadness made his shoulders sag. ‘Please, tell me your real name.’

  ‘Oriana,’ she said, reaching for him.

  Vilas caught her hand in his and raised it to his lips. ‘Princess,’ he said, bowing his head as he kissed the back of her hand.

  Oriana grasped his hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around his. ‘My name was the only thing I lied to you about.’

  Vilas pulled his hand free. Struggling to speak, he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘You murdered my father. I should be marching you straight to Hashir!’

  Oriana dropped to her knees before him. ‘No, I didn’t murder him.’

  She was so close he could see her pulse throbbing in her neck. He could reach out and squeeze the life from her if he wished.

  ‘You were seen fleeing from his body.’

  Damn it, he did not want to kill her.

  ‘I promise you, Vilas, I did not kill your father although he did try to kill me. Several times.’

  Vilas stared into Oriana’s eyes.

  Princess eyes, how had he not seen it before?

  ‘He didn’t just stab himself, you did.’

  Oriana dropped his hand and placed both of hers on his thighs. Her touch seared the material of his trousers into his flesh, making him fear he would forever have a reminder of her.

  ‘He fired arrows at me but my hair deflected them.’ Oriana licked her lips, her gaze unwavering. ‘Then he threw his dagger at my back. I pulled my hair taut and the blade ricocheted. I didn’t know what would happen; I was trying to defend myself!’ She started to cry. ‘You have to believe me!’

  Vilas ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. A mix of emotions had left a bitter taste. ‘Why do I have to believe you? You’ve done nothing but lie since I arrived.’

  ‘Because I couldn’t bear it if you hated me, not you!’

  Vilas shook his head. He should not be feeling this way. ‘I thought the moment I found the princess who had ended my father’s life I would both want to strike her and thank her for killing my father. He may have been my blood but he was rotten inside with hate. He never loved me. I believe you,’ he said. ‘And I could never hate you.’

  Oriana visibly wilted. ‘Thank you.’ Leaning forwards, she made to kiss him.

  Although he did not want to stop her, Vilas caught her before her lips touched his. ‘No. We can never do that again. You are a princess, I am King Hashir’s loyal soldier.’

  Oriana strained against him, pressing closer until her lips grazed his cheek. ‘Then as a princess I order you to kiss me.’

  ‘My king’s orders are the orders I must follow.’ Vilas, using the most strength he could muster when it felt like his heart was being torn in two, lifted Oriana to her feet. Still holding her, he smiled sadly. ‘My job is to persuade you to return to the castle, to the new king.’ He quickly turned away so she would not see the tears brewing in his eyes.

  ‘But I don’t want to go back to the castle, not if it means I have to kneel before Hashir and be his queen!’

  Oriana’s sobs cut through Vilas’ already tortured heart strings. ‘You will, once you have listened to all the good things Hashir plans to do for the kingdom. You are a princess and above all else your loyalty is to your people, they will be your subjects now, your responsibility.’

  ‘So you’re saying Hashir will be good to the people if I agree to be his wife? That’s blackmail!’

  Vilas did not want to face Oriana. He blinked rapidly, attempting to stop the tears prickling behind his eyelids from descending.

  This was it. He could take Oriana to Hashir and he would then be free from the oath his father had made. He would be free to live his life as he wished. He would no longer have to be a soldier, no longer have to fight. No longer have to take another’s life. It was what he had always dreamt of. He could have a farm, like this one he was on right now, and end the day with a glass of wine watching the sun set from his own veranda.

  ‘Hashir will be fair to the people if you give him a chance, Princess. All you have to do is to meet with him and get to know him. He wants you to want him in return. He wants to make a wife of you not a trophy, he is not cruel.’

  ‘He chopped off my parents’ heads. I could never feel anything for him other than revulsion!’

  ‘That was his father’s doing, not Hashir’s.’

  ‘You’re lying just so I agree to meet with him!’

  Vilas sighed. ‘I’m not. Believe me, I wish Hashir had ordered your parents’ death. It would make this so much easier.’ He span on his heel and despite himself grabbed Oriana, pulling her to him. She moulded to his body, returning his passion as he kissed her. ‘I don’t want you to go to Hashir,’ he murmured between kisses. ‘I want you for myself. I wanted you from the moment I saw you.’

  ‘Will you do one thing for me?’ Oriana asked.

  Vilas stopped kissing her. ‘Why do I have the feeling this won’t involve something easy?’

  ‘Hashir has my friend. He took her to begin his own collection.’

  ‘The young woman with the dark hair.’ Vilas knew who Oriana meant. It would appear Hashir had assumed correctly in hoping the princess would care enough for her friend.

  Oriana nodded. ‘How can you keep saying he is better than his father when he took Karima?’

  Vilas squeezed his eyes shut. Why was everything so difficult? Why was the one thing he had to do to earn his freedom the thing he wanted to do the least? ‘My loyalty is to Hashir.’ It hurt him even to say the words. ‘Not to you.’

  Oriana’s face trembled but she clenched her lips together. It pained Vilas to see how strong she was trying to be, even though he suspected she was hurting as much as he. ‘If Hashir will free Karima, I will go to him.’

  The words tore Vilas’ throat on the way out, he choked. ‘You will...give yourself to Hashir?’

  Oriana turned away from him and paced to the window. Folding her arms across her chest, she shook her head. ‘I will live in the castle and spend time with him if he wishes but I will not marry a man I do not love.’

  ‘You will give up your freedom in return for your friend’s?’ Vilas wondered why he was surprised.

  ‘I will give it up for my father’s people if it means Hashir will treat them all fairly, and I mean all, even those who do not yet accept him as their ruler
. Return to your king and tell him I will agree to willingly live in the castle once he has released Karima.’

  Vilas hated himself. He had never felt so wretchedly miserable. ‘I will persuade the king into releasing Karima and return to take you to the castle, if you so wish.’

  ‘I don’t wish, Vilas. It is what I must do. You are bound by your father’s oath. If I don’t go to Hashir, both you and Karima will never be free, nor will all of my father’s subjects. What is the sacrifice of one life for countless more?’

  Oriana looked so fragile, so small and alone against the glare of the rising sun that Vilas wanted to hold her in his arms once more but he knew he should never touch her again. Taking one last, long look at her, Vilas unlocked the door. ‘Shall I lock it behind me?’

  Oriana turned to face him, tears streaming silently over her cheeks. ‘There’s no need. I’ll wait for you. There’s one more thing,’ she said. ‘Make sure Hashir removes the ring from around Karima’s neck. When I say I want her freed, I mean entirely free.’

  Emotion tightened Vilas’ throat, rendering him unable to speak. All he could muster was a feeble nod. It was only when he was on his horse, halfway into the forest that a single, solitary tear scorched the already burnt side of his face.

  Chapter Nine

  Oriana

  Now it was light, Oriana could see the farmland and the way to the forest properly. Crops were trampled down from where the soldiers had rampaged through the fields. Although the rain had long since eased, the ground was boggy and water had collected in the tracks left behind by hooves and boots. The air was unmoving and clung around Oriana, scented with a mix of wet mud and something metallic...blood? Oriana shuddered; she must be imagining the blood, maybe it was the iron in the soil as she knew her father’s lands were rich with the ore. Most of the soldiers had departed, except for two who were sat astride horses at opposite ends of the farmhouse. Vilas had obviously told the others they were no longer needed.

  At the rear of the house was a water pump. Deciding there was no use in hiding the true colour of her hair any more, she set about rinsing the dye from it. It took a long time and she was unable to remove all traces of the muddy brown colour but it would fade over time. Wrapping her hair in a sheet, she retreated to the kitchen and forced a little food down. She had not eaten since early yesterday and she should be famished by now. The bread she had buttered may as well have been sawdust for all she could taste and she managed just a few meagre bites.