by Serena Vale
“If you don’t want to go, fine. Then stay. But you can’t stay down here.”
“Why not?”
His brain wrestled with the reasons for a moment before he finally spit it out, “You just can’t! Now, follow me.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. No.”
With a growl that he wasn’t even aware of, he quickly hoisted her up and over his shoulder, ignoring her squawk of protest as he carried her out of the cell.
“Put me down, you…you…” Lena struggled to find the word foul enough to describe the man who was currently carrying her through the great hall like a sack of potatoes. Luckily, it was early enough that most of the men were still in bed, drinking off whatever liquor they had imbibed the night before. She still caught several strange looks from the serving women who were busy cleaning and the cooks who were already hard at work preparing food for the day.
She blushed to the roots of her long black hair, usually done up in a luxurious braid, now it was unkempt and so knotted she was afraid it would take hours to undo. She blushed from the looks, yes, but also because the names that started running through her mind wasn’t at all what she wanted. Words like handsome, and brawny, and just exactly like how she imagined Thor would look when she’d imagined the god as a child, reading the Nordic myths on her father’s lap.
“Where are you taking me, you great…bully!” She finally decided on. None of the other ones would do at all. She blushed again, her cheeks turning bright cherry red at the thought. Because the fact was, as much as she protested, a tingling had started deep inside her when he’d touched her, impossible to ignore and growing with every moment.
Lena drew on her temper, anything to distract her from the unwanted feelings the strikingly handsome man conjured within her. She pounded him once on the shoulder, and irritated at his lack of response, did it again. This time, he did do something.
Her world was suddenly flipped right side up as he put her back on her feet and she had to cling to him for another moment to regain her bearings. Not at all because she couldn’t keep her hands away from his impressive muscles, she thought to herself.
“Where am I?”
“Not in a cell.” He growled back at her, and she shrunk away a little as his words. A look came over his face and when he looked up at her there was something so gentle, so sincere shining in their blue depths, she knew immediately that she would never have to fear this man.
“I’m sorry. There is no excuse…”
“No, my lord, it’s alright.”
He grinned slightly at her words and she felt that look shatter through her. “My lord, is it? Not bully, or brute?” His grin turned into a full blown smile and she thought she might die, there and then. That man was dangerous. “Why don’t you just call me Caelin, yes?”
He didn’t wait for her response before gesturing around the room. “I’m sure it’s not as nice as you’re used to, but it will have to do. It’s the only other place you’ll be safe here, besides the dungeons, and I...” He paused, looking over at her, “I can’t stand to see you sleep in that place another night.” Caelin sighed, pointing at something on the bed.
“I had one of the serving women fetch you a clean dress, and new food will be up shortly, I’m sure you’re starving.” He stopped talking all at once, as if he’d run out of words. Hastily, he made his way to the door. “By the way, you should probably know, this is the chamber adjoining mine. I had to pass it around that you are my…companion, and everyone else had better leave you alone or they’ll have to face my wrath. It was really the only way.”
With that last bit still ringing in the air, he scurried out of the room, shutting it behind him and leaving Lena standing there, her mouth hanging open in shock. Not at the rumor he had intentionally spread, although she knew she should be more offended than she was, but at the blazing heat that ignited when he’d called her his companion.
Chapter 3
The days passed by slowly for Lena at first, but then faster and faster as she learned more about castle Acair and its magnetic lord. They had continued their ruse, Caelin insisting that it was the only way to keep her safe, and she going along with it because she was determined to find out what the Acair’s did with her father and, even though she only admitted it to herself, she liked the way it felt to have him doting on her, the attention he gave her. Just to keep up the act, he claimed.
But every now and then she would see a gleam in his bright blue eyes that belied his words. And as time began to pass, she found she didn’t care. What she did care about, however, was his stubborn insistence that he knew nothing about her father or his whereabouts. It was impossible. She had searched everywhere for him, and the only logical place left was that something had befallen him at the hands of his great enemy, Taerek Acair.
Of course, she didn’t realize that he had perished weeks ago, before her father had even disappear, and the title had fallen to his son, Caelin. It was hard for her to reconcile the monster her father had described with the man Caelin was. Kindhearted, intelligent, he ruled his often rough and tumble men with an iron fist, but fairly and justly for all. Not to mention he was by far the most striking man she’d ever met. There were moments where she would find herself just staring at him, completely breathless. But he was so much more than just his outward beauty. His inner beauty is what drew her, and others as well.
Even she had noticed the change in those who followed him, who had come because of his father’s greed for war that had fueled their own greed for loot and riches. They were becoming different, more mature, more gentlemanly somehow as they tried to emulate the traits of their new leader. Lena had seen respect grow in their eyes, even if Caelin did not.
But despite all that, she had still been unable glean any bit of information from him about her father. Desperate for answers, she decided to take things into her own hands. Lena waited until later that night to sneak downstairs, her intent to explore the dungeons she had been so briefly held in and find him down there. She wasn’t sure if she was hoping for or dreading finding him locked, wasting away in one of the Acair’s cells.
With a deep breath, she left the room, closing the door quietly so as not disturb Caelin, who she knew was sleeping just on the other side of the thin wall. Lena knew he would be able to hear her if she was too loud because she had heard him, knew of the nightmares he had almost every night that had him waking with a mighty shout. Many nights she had battled with herself, to go and comfort him, but every time she had stayed silent, wrapped in her bed sheets, afraid of what might happen after.
Not because Caelin would do anything to compromise her, but because of her own weak will when it came to the charismatic man.
Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a strange noise had her stopping. Her instincts told her to turn around and go back to her room, but it was too late. She took a single step backwards and straight into a hard chest that stopped her from going any further.
“An’ what do we have here, Jonathin.” The man’s wine soaked breath reached her just as another man spoke in front of her.
“It looks like the master’s sweet, out fer a little stroll. Are ye looking for some different company, dove?” His breath smelled even worse than the firsts and panic rolled through her at the look in their eyes, gleaming at her in the dark.
“No, uh. No, thank you, I was just…looking for Caelin. Your sworn lord and ruler,” She said, trying to remind them of their allegiance to him. Hoping that would save her, but she saw the moment they made up their minds. One reached for her and with a shriek she tried to jump past the man behind her to flee upstairs, but before she could move hands were on her, pulling her back.
“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Caelin’s rage filled voice cut through the men’s alcohol fuzzed brains, and he drove the point home as he grabbed the one who had tried to reach her first, slamming his back against the hard red quarry wall.
“Do
n’t you ever touch her again, do you understand me?”
“Yes! Yes, my lord, I do! I won’t…I won’t ever tough her again.” The man swallowed hard, his red face turning green under Caelin’s murderous glare. Without a single look at her, he reached out his hand and gratefully she took it, following him back up the stairs and away from danger.
“Now, stay here this time!” Caelin said softly before leaving the room, slamming it behind him. Hah! As if she would let him tell her what to do. She was here for a reason, and that reason was to find her father. She wouldn’t do that just sitting idly in the room, waiting for an answer to come.
Determinately, she began to pack her few things, a note from her father, the last message she received from him, a little food she had pilfered from the kitchens. She fingered the richly clothed dresses Caelin had given her, fighting the pang of regret that she would have to leave them behind. Not because of the fine fabric, but because they were gifts from him.
Hurriedly, she grabbed the small satchel, and the cloak she had arrived in, and moved silently to the window, just wide enough for her to fit through. Beneath was a wide thatch awning and from there she could climb down the wooden beams of the stall itself to reach the ground floor. The only problem then would be passing unseen through the great hall. She was hoping that this late at night, not many would be up. Lena also hoped she wouldn’t run into the same men from earlier but she had a feeling they wouldn’t be bothering her again, and hopefully they had spread the tale of their master’s wrath.
As she had predicted, it wasn’t too difficult for her to reach the lower level, making it with just a skinned knee and a small tear at the bottom of her dress, both of which she could live with.
She landed at the bottom and cast one last glance up at the window she knew was his, Caelin’s. She could feel him pulling at her, drawing her back. And then Lena realized, like a lightning striking in the dark. She didn’t want to leave him. She had come to care about him over the past short weeks and had come to crave him being in her life. But visions of her father hurt, or sick, or worse, drew up in her mind, and she knew what she had to do. She had to find him. No matter what.
Her heart started beating faster and faster as she crept into the great hall, trying to stay as small and unnoticeable as possible. She breathed a sigh of relive when she was that it was nearly empty, save for two men sharing conversation and drink at the last table, and started walking a little quicker. This was the most dangerous part of her plan.
Lena held her breath the entire time, and was almost past the last of the men sitting in the great hall when she heard a name that stopped her cold.
“…old Eonan. Yeah, I heard a rumor just came from up north.” Her father! They were talking about her father! “There’s been talk of Eonan being held by the Black Baron.”
“Castlereigh? What does he want with Eonan?”
“Castlereigh’s land borders his own. He wants it for himself.”
Lena didn’t hear any more of the conversation. A white noise had started in her ears as she turned around, and without a second thought, flew back up the stairs to Caelin’s bedroom.
Chapter 4
“Caelin! Caelin, are you awake?”
“I am now,” he muttered ill-temperedly as he threw off his bedcovers and shuffled to the rattling door. He opened it with a mighty yawn. “What are you doing, lass? Don’t you know I need my beauty sleep?” He asked with a grin, but instantly sobered as he noticed the tear filled look on her face. “Lena, what is it?”
“It’s my father. He has him, Caelin. We have to go get him. Will you help me, please Caelin? I need you.”
He almost closed his eyes at her words, words he had dreamed of hearing fall from her lips, although under very different circumstances.
“Wait a minute, sweetheart. Slow down. Who’s got your father?”
“The baron. Baron Castlereigh.”
Caelin hissed in dislike at the man’s name. He was notorious for being the worst sort of man, and an even worse leader. His men were little better than slaves, and the rumors of how he treated his women were enough to give even Caelin nightmares, not that he needed help in that department. He had been having nightmares about his own father ever since his death, and so understood what was driving Lena to desperate measures to save her own. It was one of the many things he had come to respect and admire about her.
He looked at her for the briefest moment, but a million thoughts ran through his head. He knew her now, had come to know her even more over the past few weeks, and he knew, without a doubt, that she would charge against the Black Baron all on her own if he didn’t agree to help her.
But there were other reasons, not as honorable reasons, for wanted to agree. Caelin felt an innate need to stay near her, more and more often when she wasn’t by his side he felt like something was missing, something important, something vital.
He thought again of all the terrible rumors he had heard about Castlereigh, the way he treated women, and thanked all the gods he knew that Lena hadn’t gone there first. That she had come crashing into his life instead. It was something he would always be grateful for, because the truth was, the idea of Lena being hurt turned his stomach into knots that he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to untie.
She was there, inside of him, a part of him now, somehow, without either even meaning for it to happen.
With a deep sigh, he finally answered. “Yes. Yes, Lena, I’ll help you.”
She squealed in delight, catching him completely off guard as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. Or as far as they would go around him, anyways.
“Thank you, Caelin. I’ll never be able to repay you. Thank you.”
Warmth settled through him and for a second he was grateful that her father had gone missing, throwing her into his world and leading inexorably to this moment. Guilt flashed through him, quickly following the thought but he couldn’t deny how good, how right, she felt in his arms.
He looked down at her, a hairsbreadth from laying his lips against hers, pausing as he looked into her entrancing emerald green eyes, and almost groaned at what he saw there. Acquiescence, acceptance, desire, and heat that nearly matched his own.
For one brief moment, he gave in. Slanting his mouth against hers, he kissed her. All of the pent up want and unmet frustration funneled through him into that kiss and it rocked him back on his heels.
Finally, he pulled back, staring at her as he breathed heavily. Caelin noticed her flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips with a surge of satisfaction but then the task they had set themselves flooded back, stealing some of his happiness.
“Get some rest, Lena, what little you can. We’ll ride for Castlereigh in the morning.”
Chapter 5
The morning dawned bright and early and Caelin drew himself out of bed with a pounding head and a weary heart. He knew it was the right thing to do, but he had wrestled with what to do about his men all night. Because he also knew that this wasn’t their fight. This wasn’t their quarrel. It was his.
He quickly dressed and headed down to the great hall, stopping for a long moment at the entrance at the commotion that he had walked into. Everywhere he looked, men were getting ready, most were men that he would trust with his life now. Men that he had come to know and respect.
Some were not quite so trustworthy, but all types of men were there, the hall crowed to bursting looking over swords or crossbows, fixing armor or eating a hearty breakfast before a long march.
It was then that he spied Lena, bustling here and there, rushing from table to table with plates of food or offering to lend her deft skills at sewing to fix a tear or mend a seam. As if she could sense the weight of his stare, she looked up at him, and he was struck once again by her beauty. Inside and out, she was radiant to him.
Quickly, she moved to join him where he still stood in the same place since he’d entered the large hall.
“Caelin, we are almost ready to go!” She said excited
ly, and he cast his gaze once more over the men.
“I can see that. Lena, I…I don’t know what to say.”
“No, please, I’m sorry. I know I overstepped. It wasn’t my place to ask them, but…” She shrugged, cringing a little as she misunderstood his silence for censure when in truth, he was struck speechless with gratitude. He tried to open his mouth to say so, but she continued.
“When I told them that you were readying to head into battle for me, they all volunteered. Well, almost all. It came out that we were marching to rescue my father and some couldn’t get past their old feud, but everyone is willing to join us to march on the Black Baron!” He was silent for another long moment before reaching forward and giving her a resounding kiss, simply because he couldn’t help himself. She blushed a bright red at the cheers of his men around them but he could only grin as he stepped forward, pride and wonder and something else, something so much sweeter, burning in his chest as he looked out at his men.
“Thank you,” Caelin said, and he had to stop and clear his throat before he could continue. The men quieted as they saw him step up onto the raised dais.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your respect, your loyalty, your…” He paused again, shaking his head. “You all know now why we ride to battle.” There were several murmurs in the crowd, “But it is not the only reason. The Black Baron stands for everything I do not, that we do not! He is vile, and contemptible, and you are not! You are great men, and all who ride with me today will always be remembered as such!” Caelin had to stop again as a loud cheer rang out before he could speak again. He glanced over at Lena, his blue gaze trapped on her green.
“It is time we forget the past, forget the old feuds and let those quarrels die today. Let us forge a new path! A path of honor, a path of hope. A future that we can look towards with a smile instead of a snarl. A future that we can fight for!” He looked at her the whole time he spoke, and it was as if the words were meant for her alone.
