Fletcher (A Prydain novel Book 3)

by AJ Adams

  I discovered Lind was adept at cleaning and unpacking, so I let her get on with things domestic while I set up Wolf’s quarters.

  The cottage was small, a two-room affair with an outside stove under the overhanging eaves and Wolf right next door. I secured the garden, checking the fence and gate, and then left his stable door open.

  “You can have a morning roll under the apple tree right after breakfast,” I told him. “And there’s a water barrel all your own. Lind will use the one at the back.”

  I was looking through the storage cupboard, filled with apples from the tree, as Lind came out. “Wolf can have two apples a day, but don’t let him gorge,” I warned her. “Too many can cause colic.”

  “Colic?”

  “A belly ache. But as a horse’s belly is huge, it can kill.”

  Lind nodded, watched as I gave Wolf an apple as a treat, and then came with me to set up the workshop.

  I must say, Lind was perfect. Stripping off her tunic—“it’s too pretty to ruin”—she immediately got why the wood had to age by a fire, and she was careful putting away the boxes with feathers, twine, glue and other equipment.

  I’d intended to have her cook dinner, but instead we had our first lesson. “Take this arrow, climb the apple tree and cut me one branch that will do the job.”

  As I expected, she cut it too short and thin, forgetting about shrinkage. After I showed her how to strip off the bark, making it even thinner, she was smiling and nodding.

  “I’ve got it now. Please, please, please, can I try again?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Her face fell, but she nodded meekly, “Yes, sir.”

  My heart melted. “Oh, why not? Go get another branch, then. We can buy a roast chicken at the evening market.”

  I got a huge hug, and she was flying off. It left me completely convinced I’d tamed her. I know. I was a complete and utter fool.

  So there I was, smug as a merchant and walking into trouble with a smile.

  Chapter Ten: Lind

  I don’t care what people think about me, but I quickly discovered that the fletcher’s pride was sensitive. When we went downstairs after our fight, everyone was watching us. I was thinking about my glorious future, but a wave of black anger made me see that all the scrutiny was enraging Ware.

  By the time we hit the dining room he was curbing a filthy temper, a rage bigger than Haven’s harbour, but funnily enough, a fat little pig in a green velvet tunic that made his red nose shine like a lamp showed me how to deal with it.

  “There he is.” The pig was staring, whispering to his wife, another pig in hideous pink, and I could see Ware was rigid with outraged pride. “Did you hear how she cheeked him? Everyone’s laughing at him.”

  Tyr must have inspired me because I said exactly the right thing. “You’re so clever, sir. It’s no wonder all the dukes want to hire you.”

  The pigs gawped at perfectly meek me, and Ware was so surprised that he stared like a Guildsman who’s been thrown a copper by a beggar. When I grinned at him, he started laughing and then he was totally mellow—well, long enough for me to order wine, anyway.

  He was deep in thought immediately after, just like the first night we ate together, and this time I could see he was fretting about something. Whatever it was, it drove him deep into himself. I spent the time enjoying the wine, and although I was perfectly fine, just a tiny bit happy, he was off again, lecturing and fussing.

  I let him go on and on, the wine giving me a lovely boost, thinking that it would be nice if we had a little sex, the slow kind that I liked, not the wham-bam stuff. But it wouldn’t do any good to interrupt so I was patient, and when he finally dried up, I took his hand, saying, “Yes, yes, I understand, sir. Promise.”

  It did the trick beautifully. Ware calmed down completely, smiling as he ruffled my hair, and five minutes later, he was making me very happy, showing me some moves he’d picked up on his travels that involved rubbing the soles of my feet while he fucked me super slowly.

  I came in a rush, wailing loudly enough for the whole inn to hear, and Ware was so chuffed that he commandeered the bathroom for a late night bath, which was heaven, and afterwards he handed me a sugared almond as a treat.

  Lying in the dark, the nut melting over my tongue, Ware’s arm heavy on my hip, I realised I’d been a total idiot. I’d vowed never call anyone master again or bend my neck, but now I could see it was the key to managing this man.

  The scene of Ware bowing low to the seneschal in order to butter him up and get his way came back with a rush. It stuck in my craw that I might have to crawl, but when I thought about it, the advantages it seemed worth it.

  Ware was a dangerous man, a killer despite the fancy clothes and the soft tones, but he wasn’t a pig. He’d whacked my arse during our tussle, but I wasn’t sore or bruised even. Also, I had the impression he’d be far too proud to share me with friends. He’d think it cheap.

  As long as that didn’t change, I might be onto a very good deal. With a few smiles and sirs I’d get an education, really valuable skills, brilliant food, great sex, and when I was ready, I could slide off and live my own life.

  Ware had been right that nobody would take in a runaway thrall, but I had seen how people had fawned over him. In the dark it occurred to me that they would be quite happy to take in a fletcher, especially one trained by Ware.

  I considered it carefully. Yes, people will break the law if it means they get an advantage, so I’d have that working for me. The Duke of Haven had a rep for being a bit dodgy, and he wasn’t a fan of Llanfaes. He might want me just to annoy his enemies. Also, if I wanted a quiet country deal, any rich knight wanting to show off to his neighbours would probably be willing to offer me a good life.

  By the time I curled up against Ware’s muscled body, pulling the soft woollen blanket over me and snuggling comfortably, I was feeling my freedom was in reach again. I fell asleep, my heart as light as the feathers in the pillow under my cheek.

  I tested out the concept in the morning, greeting him with a cheery, “Good morning, sir.” and promptly got a smile and the best kind of sex. An offer to scrub his back and to help him with his boots, both declined, earned me whipped cream on my chocolate.

  By lunchtime I was on a roll. In return for some light cleaning and a few sirs, I picked my first arrow off the apple tree. It was too short and thin, but I kept it as a symbol. One day I’ll look back at that and remember how far I’ve come.

  Ware was so delighted with me that he decided we’d go out rather than have me slaving over a stew pot. And that’s where the trouble started.

  We were walking out of the cottage when six men appeared out of nowhere. They were armed with staves, and by their determined looks, they meant trouble.

  “Ware Fletcher,” one growled, “we don’t want you here.”

  Wolf was there, peering over Ware’s shoulder. The guards who should’ve been there were not.

  “Lind, go inside.” Ware sounded bored, not remotely worried. I ignored him. If there’s a fight and the master is killed, the thrall is raped. I wasn’t having that, so I stepped back, reached for a broom and prepared to bash the first person to try and touch me.

  Ware was facing the group, saying wearily. “Gentlemen, I’ll warn you once: go home.”

  “You burned down the Guild House!” a little man with a big black beard yelled. “My home went with it!”

  “War’s like that.”

  “We’ll show you what war’s like,” a skinny one with bright blue eyes snarled.

  “Yeah, get him!” Blackbeard screamed.

  They came at Ware in a rush, staves raised. Ware kicked up, just like he had in the alley, and got Blue-eyes smack in the balls. He grabbed the weapon from his hand and whistled. At once, Wolf reared, striking out with his hooves.

  It was complete pandemonium.

  Ware wielded the stave with brutal accuracy, blocking any attempt to hit him and punching the butt of it into guts and across ribs.
Wolf was taking down his share of men with precision kicking, too.

  It took a minute, no longer, before the men were on the ground, bleeding and groaning. I didn’t even get close to thumping anyone.

  “Well done, friend.” Ware was patting Wolf, checking his legs. “You okay? Show me your hooves.” That remarkable horse was lifting his feet, gazing at them along with Ware. “All clear. No damage.”

  Right, because hooves edged in iron would be injured raking down human chests.

  “Lind, an apple for Wolf, please.”

  The horse crunched it down in two chomps before leaning against the fletcher and nudging at him playfully with his nose like a happy dog. You’d never guess he was a lethal weapon. Or that Ware, with his luxurious clothes, slender frame and ridiculously long girly eyelashes was equally deadly.

  “What in Wotan’s name is going on?” Sergeant Kennard came striding over, accompanied by two men.

  “It would appear these men don’t approve of the constable’s decision to retain my services.” Ware was looking cool and unruffled.

  Kennard looked at the men in horror. “You attacked them?”

  “Not at all. I merely defended myself.” Ware glanced at the guards who were inspecting the fallen men. One was unconscious, and two had chests in ribbons thanks to Wolf’s razor-sharp hooves. “Are these the guards the constable ordered?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Ware patted his horse and addressed the guards. “I’ve seen you two before. At Volgard, wasn’t it?”

  “Yessir! I’m Thomas and he’s Bart. We’re the constable’s personal guard.”

  “Looking forward to seeing your Annihilators in action again, sir!”

  The constable had sent trusted men. Ware relaxed and smiled. “Wolf will look after himself. Just keep everyone from entering.” Then Ware looked at me. “Come, Lind, supper awaits.”

  “What. You can’t just go off.” Kennard was purple with fury. “What about these men? Who are they?”

  “My dear sergeant,” Ware was silky smooth, and I recognised he was about to be super nasty. “I have my work, and you have yours. I really can’t do it for you.”

  Then we walked off, leaving all the carnage behind us.

  “Lind, you really must obey orders.”

  “Sorry.” I was watching him in case he turned mean. Pig Jarvis would have been boasting if he’d creamed those men, and he’d have beaten the crap out of me after when in his cups, too. Sheer excitement from the fight, you see. Mind you, if it had been Jarvis against six men, he would’ve lost and then beaten me from sheer frustration.

  Ware, however, was calm. “You could have been hurt, Lind.”

  Okay, that took me aback. “I don’t think so. You and Wolf gutted the fuckers.”

  “Language, Lind.”

  The words were hard but he was smiling. Smugly. The fletcher was enjoying my admiration. Also, he thought I’d fought because I liked him. He had no idea I’d been worried for myself. I decided not to enlighten him.

  I got a pat on the shoulder. “We have time before dinner. Let’s fix your hair.”

  You’d think he’d do it himself, just like he trimmed Wolf’s tail, but Ware headed straight for a barber who refused to even look at me, snarling instead, “You’re not welcome here, fletcher.”

  “Your duke says otherwise.” Ware was relaxed but he lost that smug air.

  “You’re Ware Fletcher. You led the attack on the Guild House.”

  “Yes. I burned it down, too. That’s war for you.”

  The barber was fuming. “They put in a window tax to pay for rebuilding it!”

  “Your shop has three fine windows. That must’ve been expensive.”

  “It cost a fortune! What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I took on a job. I did it.”

  Amazingly, Ware’s calm tones had their effect. The barber was cooling down. “You bloody Guild people are all the same. It’s ordinary folk like me who pay.”

  “Hardly ordinary.” The charm was now switching on and the smile was flashing away. “I hear you’re the best barber in the city.”

  “Yes, I am.” The bugger was as proud as Ware. His smile was smug, too. “The duke calls for me when he’s in town.”

  “Excellent. Now, will you look at Lind’s hair?”

  The barber looked and shrugged. “It’s a mess.”

  “Yes. Can you tidy it up?”

  “I’m charging triple.”

  “For the windows. It seems fair.”

  And then they gossiped while the scissors snipped around my head. Men, right? There’s no understanding them. But I did listen and learn.

  “Word went round you were here after you saw the Guild steward,” the barber said. “There was a rumour you were in the city, but nobody believed it till he confirmed it.” He glanced at my collar. “Then, of course, you were easy to track down.”

  “Yes, Lind is special.”

  Cheeky bugger!

  “Is it true you bought her while she was on the whipping post?”

  “Yes.”

  “You bought her because she stripped well?”

  That was it. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

  “Lind, be nice.” Ware didn’t even raise his voice, but he did have a little twitch that showed he was expecting trouble.

  “I’m sensitive.” That came out of nowhere, and once again it was the right thing to say because he smiled.

  He also changed the subject. “Master Barber, what’s your opinion on the three thugs who were executed?”

  Yes, Ware was back at digging for information. I listened carefully, but I couldn’t figure out what he was after. He’d spent ages earlier chatting to the smith, too, and the people at the market and in the shops.

  As far as I could tell, he got nothing new this time, either. I, on the other hand, was getting a makeover. The barber trimmed away, leaving me with a short cap of glossy, swirling hair.

  I looked terrific. Really. A whole different human being.

  Ware liked it, too. “Very pretty. You’ll have to keep it short if you want to use a longbow.”

  “She can’t use a bow.” The barber was horrified. “She’s a thrall.”

  “She’ll follow my orders,” Ware put some coins in his hand. “And my orders are that she learns to shoot.”

  We left the barber swearing a blue streak, which was fun, and Ware bought roast chicken and red wine, which was even better. By the time we rolled into bed, I was feeling great, and I was thinking that Ware was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to me.

  “You know what? I’m not hurting.” I was burrowing into the mattress, not as soft as the inn, but comfy and covered in one of Ware’s own sheets, made of finest linen. “It must be the boots. And the beds.”

  “Yes, it’s all this luxury.”

  Ware was morose, and from the way he glanced around the room, he was feeling let down at the lack of a fire, carpets and sideboards. The bed was ordinary, too, without posts.

  “Well, it’s better than dossing down in a field with no blanket.” I was toasty warm, but Ware was shivering. There were gaps around the windows, and as Caern is a mountain city, it’s cold at night. “Your travels in the east have made you soft.” It was the wine, I think, making me lippy again.

  Ware gave me a hard look as he slid into bed. “I’m missing the comforts, that’s for sure.”

  “You mean the women?” I was being used as a warming-pan again. “What are they like?”

  “They’re humble, obedient and eager to please.”

  “Sounds hell.”

  “They’re treasures,” Ware insisted a trifle grimly. “Every one of them.”

  “But you didn’t bring one back, did you?”

  “I’m regretting it.”

  The flagpole was up, but his body was cold still. I wrapped myself around him, chafing him warm.

  “I saw an eastern girl in Haven, once,” I told him. “She was wearing a veil, frin
ged panties and not much else.”

  “She’d be one of the Raqs Sharqi, a dancer. They’re highly sought after. They hide their faces from all except their patrons.”

  “Oh, I thought she might look like a dog.”

  Ware burst out laughing. “Lind, you’ve a wicked tongue!”

  You know, I actually liked him at that point.

  I liked him even better when he settled next to me, sighing, “You go on top.”

  “What?”

  He lifted me up and settled me over him. “Like this.”

  Ohmigod it was heaven! I figured out in sixty seconds why the pigs had always chucked me down and gone for it. When you’re on top, you’re in control.

  As I moved over the flagpole, the rim was rubbing over my clit, setting delicious ripples flooding through me. I flexed and rubbed, feeling my nipples tighten and the breath in my throat catch. My hair was swirling around my face, silkily sensual. In just minutes, I was drowning in pleasure.

  Ware had his hands on my hips, sighing at first and then groaning. When I leaned up, he tried to get inside me. When I leaned forward, he moaned, lost in his own delight.

  The wine was moving my body along nicely. I soon found myself rushing towards the cusp of release. Determined to keep enjoying myself, I hovered on the edge, tantalising myself.

  “For the love of Apollo, fuck me, Lind!”

  “Wait. Just. A. Minute.”

  I put my hands flat by his side, pushing into the hardness underneath me and flexed my hips. The rim rubbed, the hot flesh throbbed and I went screaming towards release.

  “Oh gods this is good.” I was shaking and shimmering. “Ah! Heaven!”

  I came in wailing gasps, my legs gripping the solid muscles beneath mine, my taut nipples rubbing against the hard chest.

  Ware was clutching at me, gasping and grinning at the same time. “If it’s not too much trouble, how about me joining in?”

  I slid off, turned liquid from pure bliss. “Yeah, okay.”

  He was leaning over me, the grey eyes warm with laughter. “You drive me insane,” he murmured. He launched into me, the hard flesh filling me, speeding the ebbing ripples again. I had my hands around his shoulders, my ankles crossed in the small of his back, as his short vigorous pulsing sent me wailing again.