The Eldentimber Series: Books 1 - 3

by Tapscott, Shari L.

  Father mounts his horse, and the others with him do the same. Alexander turns on the back of his mare and looks up at us. He raises his hand in goodbye, and I do the same. I worry about them as well. My father and my brother are dear to me, and I don’t want them near the rock slide.

  Trumpets cry through the air. Their metallic song startles me, and I scan what I can see of the road. A lone rider, brilliant on the back of his bay stallion, emerges through the mist.

  It’s Galinor. He looks to the parapets, as if sensing my presence, and holds a gleaming golden shield high for me to see.

  He’s returned with dragon treasure.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Beside me, Marigold gasps. I’m not sure if she’s surprised or upset. I don’t wait to find out. I race down the stone stairs, holding up my skirts so I don’t trip on them and fall to my death. Marigold is somewhere behind me, but being more of a lady than I am, she doesn’t run.

  Archer did it. He obtained the dragon treasure.

  By the time I reach the courtyard, Galinor has joined Father, Alexander, and the knights. Villagers swarm around him. People cheer. Their favorite has returned victorious.

  Hearing the chaos, Mother, Percival, Leonora, and most of the competing princes and lords have filtered out of the palace. Many congratulate Galinor, slapping him on the back the way men do. Others, namely Lionel, do not look as impressed.

  Lionel stands near the edge of the crowd, his arms crossed and his eyes hard. Even with Lionel’s six point win, Galinor’s four points for returning with the treasure mean he is in the lead by one point.

  Lionel looks murderous.

  I rush forward, pushing the crowd out of my way. Somehow I must ask Galinor if Archer has returned safe as well. Before I reach him, Father calls over the crowds. He’s still on his steed, and in his armor he looks like the mighty king he is. A hush blankets the courtyard.

  “Congratulations to Prince Galinor of Glendon. You are one of three to return with dragon treasure. As you all know, Rigel was the second,” Father says. The crowd claps politely, but it’s nothing like Galinor’s reception. “And Prince Lionel of Vernow is our victor!”

  The crowd gives a respectful cheer. Father scowls at me, and I clap as well.

  “Tomorrow night, we will have a great festival and feast in Prince Lionel’s honor. Following the feast will be two days of rest, and then we will hold the joust and the hand-to-hand competition.”

  The crowd screams, a deafening roar.

  Soon, the tournament winner will be declared, and I will know what my future holds.

  ***

  Lionel suspects something. He’s watching me, his eyes following everywhere I go.

  “What is he doing here?” Yuven whispers, leaning close so Lionel doesn’t hear. “We’ve no room for spectators.”

  “He’s keeping an eye on me,” I answer. “He has since Galinor returned.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  He shrugs. “I suspect a few things, but I know nothing.”

  “Archer has been helping Galinor win the tournament,” I admit quietly. “For me.”

  He nods. “I thought he might be. His disappearance was too coincidental.”

  It’s late, and I should have retired to bed long ago. Instead, I’ve been helping tend minor wounds as I wait for Lionel to tire of trailing me so I can find Archer.

  “Do you think he knows about Archer?” Yuven asks, his voice barely a whisper.

  “I don’t know if he suspects Archer at all, but I believe he knows I’ve helped Galinor. He’s making sure I don’t meet with him again.”

  Yuven huffs. “What would it matter now? How are you to aid him in the joust?”

  “I’m awake, you know,” Irving says from under my hands. He startles me so severely, I jump and almost shriek. Yuven turns away, deserting me.

  Irving opens his eyes, and he grins. His eyes are hooded, and I can tell he hasn’t been awake for long. “Run away with me, and I’ll keep your secret.”

  “Keep my secret, or I’ll lace your pain-relieving tea with the brew Yuven gave Peter,” I tease.

  Irving grimaces at the thought. His tone flippant, he says, “I’ll keep it because I love you. But, Princess, why not offer me your pet archer?”

  I bristle at his words, but when he smirks I realize what he’s done—the rat.

  “What’s this, then? Are you in love with Archer? I suspected, of course, but—”

  “You are too drugged to know what you say.” I rub the salve into his arm a little harder than necessary.

  He winces and laughs. “Perhaps I am.”

  “Please don’t say anything.”

  I finish with the salve and apply fresh bandages. I meet his eyes, and his smirk softens to something real.

  “Pippa, I swear, I will say nothing.” He closes his eyes. “Besides, after I win the tournament, and when we’re honeymooning on a distant, tropical island, none of it will matter.”

  We both know he won’t be competing in the joust or hand-to-hand event. He drifts to sleep, and I finish with his bandages. I glance to the wall where Lionel stands. He’s still here.

  I move to my next patient and my next after that. Finally, now that it’s very late, Lionel is gone.

  ***

  Slipping down the knights’ quarters is foolish. It’s beyond foolish—it’s madness. Despite my misgivings, the knights’ hall is where I find myself.

  Torches burn on the walls, and instead of soft, red woven rugs and tapestries like there are through the rest of the palace, there’s armor displayed down the hall. Our family’s crest hangs at the end. Instead of instilling pride in my position, it mocks me, reminding me I’m where I shouldn’t be, doing what I shouldn’t do.

  I’m not sure which room is Archer’s, and that’s a problem. It’s not as if I can knock on them till I find his. As I loiter, unsure how to proceed, a door opens behind me. I turn swiftly, excuses already forming in my head.

  Beyond the door, I hear men laughing over what sounds like a game of chance. Alexander is in front of me. His eyes go wide when he sees me. He shuts the door and takes two steps forward. “What are you doing?”

  Thankfully his voice is quiet so he doesn’t rouse the entire hall. If there’s anyone to rouse. They might all be gambling away the night.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. “Father has forbidden gambling.”

  Alexander narrows his eyes, knowing I’ll take him down with me if I have to. “Who are you looking for?”

  “Archer.”

  “You were supposed to leave it alone.” His eyes soften.

  “I tried.”

  The door starts to open, but he pulls it shut. There are shouts on the other side, laughter and jeers.

  “Last room on the left.” He motions me on. “And Pippa?”

  I turn back.

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “You either.”

  He holds the door as I race to the end of the hall. Hearing their yells, I know I don’t have much time, so I slip in without knocking.

  There’s no lamp burning, and the room is dark. I fear he’s not here. Maybe I’ll wait for him to find me instead. I turn back to the door, wondering how I can slip out of the hall without being seen.

  I toy with the latch on the door, trying to decide what to do, when strong hands grab me, and a hand cups over my mouth to keep me quiet. I only just realize there’s a knife held to my throat when the hands fall away.

  “Pippa?” Archer asks, his voice incredulous in the dark.

  “Archer?” I gasp to catch my breath. I feel like my heart is going to explode.

  “What are you doing here?”

  My eyes are beginning to adjust to the darkness, and I can just make out the shadow of his form.

  “What am I doing here?” My voice is testy from the scare. “I came to see if you are all right. I came to see if you are alive.”

  “I’m fine.” He sets his
hands on my arms, rubbing them softly.

  My irritation slips away, and I settle my back against the door, enjoying the sensation of his hands moving over my skin. “Who did you think I was?”

  He laughs. The sound of it washes over me, making me warm. “I thought it might have been Lionel. If he knew what is between us, what we are, he’d try to kill me.”

  “What are we?” I ask, and I’m alarmed my voice is as breathy as it is.

  His lips hover near my hairline. “We’re foolish.”

  I murmur my agreement, and his lips trail over my temple.

  “We’re impulsive.” He moves his lips to the side of my mouth. “We’re doomed.”

  “I missed you,” I say. “More than I can tell you.”

  Archer moves to the other side of my mouth, never touching my lips with his. “I don’t know how I will live without you, Pippa. You’re all I could think of. Every moment.”

  “Kiss me.”

  He pauses as if he’s fighting himself. “I can’t.”

  His lips hover over my jaw. Tears sting my eyes. I could have been with him. If I’d admitted my feelings before the tournament, we could have eloped.

  “Archer…” I say, my voice anguished.

  “I know.” He brushes his lips against the crook of my neck. He barely touches my skin, but the sensation fills me with exquisite agony. My heart is full, but it breaks at the same time.

  He sets his chin on my shoulder. I hiss in pain—not emotional turmoil—but true, actual pain that shoots from my wound.

  Archer’s found the bandage. He pulls back. “Pippa, what is this?”

  Suddenly, he’s gone, and I hear him rummaging in the dark. There’s sparks from a flint, and then a candle lights, illuminating the room in soft light and shadows.

  He tips my head to the side so he can get a closer look at my shoulder. I hiss as he lifts the bandage. I should have changed it this evening. Dried blood sticks to both my skin and the cloth, fusing the two together.

  “Pippa,” he whispers. “What happened to you?”

  “Glasseln.”

  His eyes meet mine—incredulous, shocked. “No—”

  The horror story that began with the picnic spills out, and his eyes widen. He pulls me toward him, wrapping his arms securely around me, and gently presses his lips to the top of my head. There are no words, just us.

  I’m not going to miss this moment, not this time. I tip my head up and look into his face. “Archer, I love—”

  The door flies open, bumping into my back.

  “Come on, Pippa,” Alexander says, his voice low. “The hall is clear, and you’ve been in here long enough.”

  Archer nods to my brother, and to his credit, he doesn’t look one bit guilty.

  “Archer,” Alexander says in lieu of a greeting, pursing his lips to show us he’s not impressed.

  I turn back to Archer, helpless. I can’t say it in front of my brother. He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He knows.

  That will have to be enough.

  ***

  “Be strong, Pippa,” Alexander says.

  I don’t want to be strong. I want to curl up on my bed and cry for the rest of forever. I’m still mad, though I know what my brother actually did. He covered for me.

  Of course, he doesn’t trust me to go to my room, so he’s escorting me there now.

  “This may surprise you, but I can find my quarters.”

  He snorts. “Do you know what Father would have done if he’d caught you in the knights’ hall?”

  Of course I know.

  “He’d have demanded to see my ring,” I answer, my voice sulky.

  As if just remembering my ring, Alexander steals a glance. I slap his shoulder, but I use the wrong arm so my wound protests. I nearly curse it hurts so badly.

  “What am I supposed to think you were doing in his room in the middle of the night?” He looks uncomfortable.

  “We were talking.”

  “Mmmhmmm.”

  “I have to tell Galinor.”

  He looks down, and his eyebrows knit together. “You don’t have to, Pippa. You wouldn’t be the first princess to fall in love with the wrong person. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You can’t marry Archer.”

  Not for the first time today, I wish I hadn’t asked for the tournament.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  This is the first tournament breakfast I’ve been allowed to join with all of the competitors attending. Instead of looking forward to it, I walk in filled with dread. I don’t want to tell Galinor, but I have to.

  My anxiety is temporarily forgotten when I see Irving has joined us this morning, but my mood falls a little when I see Dristan is still absent. How these families must hate me for maiming their sons. Father agreed to the tournament because it brings kingdoms together.

  I don’t see how.

  I choose a seat next to Marigold, who looks much brighter now that Irving is up. He’s still bandaged and bruised, but this is an improvement. He wraps his arm around his sister, and his eyes are full of fire. Someone must have broken the news of the kidnapping to him. We kept it from him, thinking it best if we didn’t worry him while he was healing.

  “I’m fine, Irving,” Marigold says.

  I wish Yuven had something to wipe her nightmares from her mind. What it would be like to live with those memories?

  Marigold’s eyes are on the other side of the room, and I follow them. Galinor is speaking with Rigel in the corner. They don’t look like they’re angry, but they are very solemn. My mouth goes dry. I take a drink of cider, but I have trouble swallowing.

  Surely Rigel won’t tell Galinor. He can’t—I need to tell him.

  Galinor joins the table after several nerve-wracking minutes. He greets everyone, but he doesn’t look at me when he says my name.

  No. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

  How will I explain this to him? I didn’t do it on purpose. I never meant to hurt him. I close my eyes, blocking everything else out. I have been selfish and cruel. It was bound to catch up with me.

  “Pippa, are you all right?” Galinor’s gentle voice says from across the table.

  I meet his gaze, and all I want is to tell him how sorry I am. He nods as if he understands.

  When he looks away, I search for Rigel. He’s summoned his page. The young man is nodding, and Rigel is speaking with urgency. The page leaves, and Rigel looks up. Once again he’s the monster I knew he was. He doesn’t look remorseful as he strides from the hall. If anything, he looks quite satisfied.

  ***

  The festival would be fun if I weren’t avoiding Galinor. Our silent conversation this morning said it all. I am heartless, and he forgives me.

  I feel worse.

  Leonora has convinced Marigold to join her for the festivities, and I tag along for lack of anything else to do. I think Marigold is enjoying herself, and that is something. I feed off her enthusiasm, letting it lift my spirits. We eat entirely too much food—Leonora eats more than any of us—and we play ridiculous games, winning prizes like leather bracelets and pouches of pretty but worthless rocks.

  It’s midday, and the sun is hot. I excuse myself and promise to meet them later. Even though Archer is most likely wandering the festival like we are, I decide to practice my archery instead of trying to find him. I haven’t had a chance to shoot since the day I lost my bow, and I’m itching to feel one in my hands.

  I scan the armory for one that is similar to mine, but when I test it at the practice targets, it doesn’t feel the same. My shoulder aches, and if I’m not careful I will tear the stitches. I block out the pain and continue. There are other people milling nearby, but no one pays me much mind. I see Galinor approach from the corner of my eye.

  He watches several shots before he asks, “Where is your bow?”

  “I assume the bandits stole it.” I’m surprised he noticed the difference. He continues to watch me, and, getting flustered, I do worse and worse.

 
; “I already knew, Pippa,” he says, breaking the tension.

  I let my bow drop to my side. “Galinor, I’m so—”

  “I knew the night we met him in the stables.” He offers me a smile that almost looks guilty—which is ridiculous. I’m the guilty one.

  I set my bow on the grass under the apple tree, and then I sit down next to it. Galinor joins me. With his long, muscular frame, he should look awkward on the ground, but he doesn’t. He’s so handsome with his dark hair and blue eyes. He’s kind as well. It would have been so much easier to love him instead.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “What was there to say? You’re a princess, and he’s an archer. I knew there was no future there. You were going to wed one of the men in the tournament, and I wanted it to be me.” He gives me a rueful smile. His assessment of my relationship with Archer is painful to hear. He’s right, of course.

  Galinor looks in the trees, studying a bird on a limb. His mood is different, and I can’t tell what’s out of place. He doesn’t seem heartbroken. He seems resigned.

  “I should have told you,” I mumble. “I’m sorry it was Rigel.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t hate him, Pippa. He has his reasons.”

  I’m sure he does. “Will you still compete?”

  “Of course I will compete.” He smiles, showing the dimples in his cheeks and leans forward in a move that should take my breath away, but it doesn’t. “You need me.”

  “You will do this for me, even though you know where my heart is?”

  “Perhaps I’m romantic, but I still believe you could love me if we were married.”

  I’m comfortable around Galinor, and I do care for him. Perhaps it would be enough. It has to be.

  “Besides,” he says, sitting back. “I can’t bear to lose to Lionel.”

  If nothing else, we agree on that.

  “Come on.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out to me. “Come enjoy the festival with me. Tonight you will have to sit next to Lionel. It’s best to have some fun while you can.”

  I’d almost forgotten about the feast and my place at it. We’ll sit at the head table, Lionel in the middle and me at his side like his queen. It’s going to be unbearable.