Dark Lords of Epthelion Trilogy:Warrior Queen of Ha-Ran-Fel, A Dark Moon Rises, Castle of Blood

by Sandra Kopp

  Her appetite and energy had fled. Devoid of thought and drained of emotion, Melinda choked back her tears as she entered the bedroom and lay down. For several minutes she stared at the ceiling, letting her mind drift as she gradually relaxed.

  She hadn’t heard Eldor come in, but suddenly he stood before her, hardened muscles rippling under his sleeveless shirt, his dark hair tousled by the wind. A broad smile lit his tanned face and as he approached he held out a bundle of the most vibrantly-colored wildflowers Melinda had ever seen.

  Melinda gasped and sat up. “Eldor?”

  “Hello, Melinda.” His deep tender voice sent tingles down her spine, as did the love and adoration filling his liquid eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  “It’s a shock, I know. After we married I purposely started in the fields farthest from the house and gradually worked my way closer so I could come home during the day after the weather turns hot.” He paused and clicked his tongue. “Today I finished the field closest to the house.” He cocked his head. “What’s the matter, Melinda? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  “Of course I am! I just didn’t expect it.”

  “I know I’ve been a cad. As I told you at first, I came from nothing, and I admit my newly-gained wealth made me heady. I also admit you weren’t my first choice, but I’ve since discovered what kind of person Marna is: A tease, a gaudy trinket, absolutely useless as a wife. I pity Philip. But you are a treasure. I truly love you, Melinda.” Eldor paused. “I saw your new garden. I always thought that was just a useless heap of ugly old rocks, but you’ve turned it—the whole yard, in fact—into an absolute marvel. A wonderful job, and you did it all on your own. I couldn’t be more proud.”

  Eldor sat down on the edge of the bed and placed the flowers in Melinda’s hands. Trembling, she took them and held them to her nose to savor their sweet perfume. “How exquisite! Thank you, Eldor! From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  Eldor’s stare intensified. “My work is finally caught up. The herders are tending the cattle. The fields need nothing more until harvest. Come, Melinda. It’s time. Our time.”

  The blood roared in her ears. Her mouth went dry. “I’m dirty. I need to clean up.”

  “I’m dirty, too,” he whispered.

  Eldor stood, pulled off his shirt, then opened his trousers and let them drop. Melinda gasped. She tried to look away but her stare remained riveted to Eldor’s pulsating loins. He sat beside her again. Melinda closed her eyes. Her breath came in little wheezes, gasps, and moans as Eldor removed her clothing and stroked her bare skin. Her hand holding the flowers involuntarily opened and they fell, hitting the floor with a gentle swish. Tender fingertips stroked her neck. . .

  And then he lay upon her, thrusting, writhing, rising and thrusting, his mouth pressed tightly over hers. She felt his hot breath as his lips brushed her ear and then moved up and down her throat as he bit it gently. Melinda moaned with pleasure and delight as her body responded and molded to Eldor’s, wishing she could freeze this moment for all eternity and stay locked in his embrace as he surrounded and filled her. Love, ardor, and desire erupted into a shattering climax amid a blinding explosion of brilliant stars.

  His passion spent, Eldor groaned and rolled off her. Melinda sighed, whispering his name over and over as she turned onto her side to lay her head on his broad chest. . .

  Melinda awoke with a gasp and found herself, drenched in sweat, alone in the middle of the bed. She sat bolt upright. “Did I dream this? I couldn’t have, it was so real! I saw him, I felt him, I smelled him!”

  The bouquet! It should still be where she had dropped it. Melinda glanced at the night table then checked the floor beside the bed where she thought the bouquet had fallen. “It must be here! I felt the flowers in my hands and smelled their fragrance.”

  Melinda leaned over one side and then the other, lifting the coverlet to check the floor underneath. Nothing.

  “But he was here! I saw him, I felt him!” Her voice broke, succumbing to heart-wrenching sobs. Melinda drew her knees to her chest and buried her face between them.

  Melinda passed a sleepless night. Over and over the dream replayed in her mind, and with each repetition she clung tighter to the image of Eldor standing in the doorway, his penetrating stare filled with burning passion until, unable to contain himself, he swept to her side and poured out his ardor upon her.

  A portent of things to come?

  “No!” the darkness scoffed, and now the dream resumed with Eldor storming through the door, his visage contorted with scorn and disgust. Spewing derogations and curses, he yanked her off the bed and hurled her against the wall. . .

  Moaning, Melinda sat up and leaned forward, cradling her face in her arms. “Why couldn’t I find a husband who loves me? Why?”

  Quiet sobs shook her shoulders. She cried herself out and then reached for the handkerchief she kept on the nightstand. After wiping her eyes and nose she heaved a short sigh—and caught the unmistakable fragrance of Eldor’s bouquet!

  It cannot be! The breeze must have carried the scent in from outside.

  Rising, Melinda felt her way to the open window and took a deep breath, but smelled only fresh air and returned to bed. The fragrance returned, filling her nostrils with an exotic scent that set her senses reeling. She sat down on the edge of the bed and, inhaling deeply, closed her eyes. Finally exhaustion claimed her and she lay down. Eldor’s arms encircled her as she fell asleep.

  Melinda arose early the next morning and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She ate an egg and then, still hungry, opened the canister of oatmeal. Only a little remained, so she closed the lid and inspected the rest of her supplies before hitching Meg to the cart for the drive to the mercantile.

  Peter Rainer peered around a row of shelves as she entered. “Well, hello, Melinda! Wonderful to see you. What can I do for you?”

  “I need everything.” Melinda managed a smile as she handed him her list.

  Peter looked it over, raised his brows, and whistled. “I’ll say. Flour, oatmeal, cornmeal, honey. What have you been doing, young lady?”

  “Working in my garden, mostly. It’s so beautiful outside. I can’t stand to stay in the house when the weather’s like this.”

  “I know what you mean.” Peter meandered along the shelves, alternately checking her list and retrieving items, the smaller of which he placed in the basket Melinda had brought. “That’s what makes running a store so hard. I rarely get outside during the day, unless someone requires me to deliver their supplies. That doesn’t happen much, though.” Peter set the last item on the counter. “There. I’ll add it to your account and Eldor can pay me next time he comes in.”

  “I don’t know when that will be,” Melinda responded morosely.

  “Probably after harvest. The grain is ripening now and everyone’s busy.” Peter patted Melinda’s hand. “Don’t worry. Eldor will make it right. He always does.”

  “I’m not worried about him not paying the bills.” Melinda bit her lip.

  “Once the crops are in I have a feeling you’ll be seeing more of Eldor than you can handle.” Peter smiled slyly and gave her a wink.

  Melinda managed a chuckle. “You’re probably right.”

  Peter carried her items to the cart. Melinda thanked him and walked next door to Gilda’s shop.

  Gilda stood alone at the counter, rerolling a bolt of material. She glanced up and a beaming smile lit her face. “Melinda—I mean, Mistress Rand! Come in, dear.” She pinned the cloth and pushed the bolt back into place on the rack behind her. “What brings you to town? Oh, I know: You need swaddling material! Luwanna Topyl was here just the other day.”

  “No. I need cloth for a—” Melinda choked. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and she put a hand over her mouth and turned away to hide her grief-twisted face.

  Gilda sprang to her side. “What’s wrong, dear?”

  “There will never be a baby.” Melinda could sc
arcely get the words out.

  “Well, these things take time sometimes.”

  Melinda shook her head. “You don’t understand, Gilda. Eldor has never come near me. He’s always busy in the fields or with his herds. He never comes home. I should have listened to Master and Mistress Marchant. Both expressed reservations concerning Eldor from the beginning, but I thought I could make it work. I have done everything to please him! Kept his house, weeded and planted his yard, both of which he rarely sees. I made clothing, which he has never worn and cooked meals, which he has never eaten because he would rather be with his herds than with his wife. It’s as if he cannot bear to be near me!”

  Gilda sighed. “He’s peculiar. Headstrong, independent. . .just like his father. The Rands always did their own work until this year, when Eldor bought a huge spread. It’s true that few Wyars even try to learn the common tongue, and with more acreage than he can handle alone now, I am sure Eldor struggles. Besides. . .” Gilda brightened. “. . .he is building that big house in the foothills, even larger than Arris Marchant’s! Oh, dear!” She stopped short and put her hand on her mouth.

  “What?” Melinda asked.

  Gilda smiled ruefully. “Eldor swore the town to secrecy, for he means to surprise you.”

  “Surprise me?” Melinda wiped her eyes as her sobs hiccupped to a stop.

  “I don’t know how he thought he could hide it. Everyone knows, and the place is so grand people can’t help but talk. You’d just as well know, too, but please don’t let on that you do or that I’m the one who told you. Eldor began building last month and hired scores of men to work on it. He’s told several people—the Tanners, Schiffs, everyone on the council—what a splendid job you’ve done on his cottage. So bright and beautiful you can see it from the hilltops, he tells them. He can’t wait to see what you do with the new place. But don’t tell her, he said. It’s his special gift to his wife.”

  Melinda gaped. “Why has he never told me? That he likes the yard, I mean. I would so love to hear it.”

  “Again, he’s peculiar. Eldor grew up without a mother. She died when he was little more than a baby, and Eli never remarried. I doubt that Eldor really knows how to treat a woman.”

  “He could still come home once in a while. I will never understand that. And how would he like to be treated, for heaven’s sake? Whether he had a mother or not shouldn’t matter. It’s simply common decency.”

  “If you knew his father—”

  “That’s another thing. Eldor’s father came up to us after the wedding, but never even acknowledged me. Neither did Eldor, for that matter. Only by what they said to each other did I surmise that they were father and son. We were never properly introduced.”

  “Strange. But that’s the Rands.” Gilda clicked her tongue. “Anyway, regarding Eldor’s reasons for staying away: The foothill fields require the most attention, and that’s where he is building the house. Even Peter considers it quite a distance to travel and—” Gilda giggled—“I think Eldor’s afraid he’ll talk in his sleep and ruin the surprise. He hopes to finish the house before harvest and be able to spend a few days in it with you before returning to the fields.”

  Stunned, Melinda could only stare. Just like my dream!

  Relief and elation washed over her, transforming her mask of misery into glowing radiance. “Oh, Gilda! You don’t know how happy you’ve just made me! Never fear, I will never let on that I know. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Gilda laughed as Melinda threw her arms around her. “You see? Everything is fine.”

  “I’d best be off.” Melinda hugged Gilda again and dashed outside, but returned a moment later, red-faced. “I forgot the cloth I came for, and I guess now I’ll need some yarn.”

  They both burst into laughter as Melinda approached the shelves.

  August

  Two more weeks passed, but Melinda scarcely noticed. Early in the morning she worked in her yard and garden. At least three days a week she rode to the Topyl farm to help Luwanna. In the evenings she sat cross-legged on the bearskin rug, making baby clothes and knitting a blanket.

  “You’re certainly happy these days,” Luwanna remarked one day during lunch. She had prepared a delicious salad of fresh greens mixed with carrots, tomatoes, peas, and onions topped with crisp bacon, goat cheese, and a creamy dressing.

  Melinda swallowed a mouthful and jabbed her fork toward the plate. “Um. This is delicious!” She picked up the red and white checked napkin and wiped a spot of dressing from one corner of her mouth.

  Luwanna cocked her head. “You’re not expecting, are you?”

  “Not yet. But I think soon I will be. I’m just so pleased that I came to Teptiel.”

  Luwanna looked dubious. “Has Eldor said or. . .” Her voice trailed off and she gave a little shrug.

  “Not yet.”

  Melinda continued eating, oblivious to Luwanna’s pitying stare.

  That evening she knitted furiously and at ten o’clock held up her finished product: A lovely soft blanket of yellow, pink, and blue pastels.

  “Beautiful!” Putting it aside, she lay back on the bearskin rug and gazed up at the ceiling. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. “I know all will be well.” She closed her eyes then and drifted off to sleep.

  The following morning she rose early, ate a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, and set about her chores. As she dried the last dish, she paused a moment to savor the fresh morning air. The lilting warble of a distant meadowlark drifted through the open window. Melinda smiled and put the dish in the cupboard. Humming, she picked up a cloth and bustled about the kitchen, dusting doors, shelves and containers. She finished quickly and, as she tossed the cloth on a shelf, glanced out the window and saw Eldor washing at the well. Heart pounding, Melinda grabbed a clean towel off the table and hurried outside.

  “Here. Dry yourself with this.”

  “Aye.” Eldor nodded as he took the towel and wiped his face and neck. “Thank you.”

  Melinda drew a nervous breath. “What are you doing today?” she asked in what she hoped was a light-hearted tone.

  Eldor shook his head and smiled wryly. “Same as always,” he said with a shrug.

  Melinda moistened her lips. “The house is clean and the yard is—well, you can see it’s quite nice.” She paused, waiting for his glowing assessment of her labors. Eldor made none, and she continued, “Let me go with you today, just for the morning, at least.”

  Eldor frowned. “Medella, no, I’ve told you before, it’s too much for you.”

  “Too much for me! Look at what I’ve accomplished here! If I can do this I can. . .Eldor, please! I want to! I want…to be with you.”

  Eldor looked down at her, his face a mixture of amusement and condescension. “You help me more by caring for this, Medella.”

  She stared at him, aghast. “Do you even see what I’ve done here?”

  Eldor sighed and glanced around. “You’ve planted flowers and a garden. Every farm wife does that.”

  “But I. . .didn’t you tell—”

  “Didn’t I tell what?” he demanded.

  “People that you can see the yard. . .from the foothills and that it’s. . .beautiful?” Her words evaporated into devastated silence. She looked at him imploringly, biting her lip to keep it from trembling.

  Eldor simply stared. “Stop making that disgusting face. I can’t stand it.”

  Melinda blinked back hot tears. “Am I nothing more to you than a servant?”

  Muttering, Eldor wadded the towel up and threw it on the ground beside the well.

  “We’ve been married over two months,” Melinda continued, her voice rising, “and you have yet to touch me. I have yet to cook you a single meal, or share your dreams or—anything. Anything that a wife shares with a husband you deny me. And my name is Melinda—Melinda! I can scarcely believe the Wyar influence constrains you from even remembering your wife’s name. I am your wife, Eldor—am I not?”

  Eldor stood, eyes close
d and lips tight, as if reminded of something repugnant to him. “Yes…Melinda. . .you are my wife,” he said, slowly and very deliberately. “But I’m just now coming into my own. It has taken much time and work. My family is poor. I have broken my back to get this far.”

  “And I want so much to help you! Why won’t you let me?” Melinda sniffed and wiped a tear off her cheek. “Let me be a wife to you and work beside you in the fields.”

  “No,” Eldor broke in. “It’s no place for you.”

  “I would love to share a night with you under starry Alpenfel skies.”

  Fury distorted Eldor’s face. “Don’t you understand?” he shouted. “I don’t want you out there!”

  Melinda gasped, horrified, as his right hand closed into a fist. Muscles bulged along the length of his arm as he raised and drew it back, and she cringed, alarmed at the hate in his eyes.

  Eldor caught himself and, with a sigh of resignation, dropped his arm. His voice softened, although his face did not. “Those are rough men; they have no regard for women, and if they should. . .” His shoulders slumped and he absently waved a hand. “Please bear with me, just for the summer, Medella. I will see you later.” Turning, he strode to the barn.

  “Do you hate me, Eldor?” she cried.

  He did not answer. Moments later he emerged astride his favorite black gelding. Melinda watched him gallop away.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Night fell as Arris descended the hill to his house. Cricket and frog song filled the otherwise still air. Somewhere overhead an owl hooted. Barada strutted proudly, head high and ears erect.

  Arris glanced at the star-filled sky. What voices filled Nedra’s ears these days, he wondered, and had Hans’ efforts to aid her borne fruit?

  Arris hung his head. His parents had returned with the news that Angelika had fully recovered and resumed her commission. When pressed for details concerning her mishap they said only that a peer had found her unconscious in the Corridor and carried her to Baldimora. They seemed distant, almost cold, and Arris sensed again his father’s disappointment at his leaving the Order.