The Silver Bracers (Lady Blade, Lord Fighter Book 1)

by Sharon Green

  Unless he was in league with my father's enemies.

  How did I know he'd just happened along right after I'd escaped from the ones who had taken me? Wasn't that the least little bit farfetched? I knew for certain that we were moving south, so that should mean he really was taking me home. Did he intend pressing for rescuer's rights, along with demanding an immediate wedding ceremony? The very next day he'd be my father's heir, with nothing standing between him and the duchy but my father's life. Was he really the son of Duke Trame of Arthil, or was he someone else entirely?

  "This seems an adequate spot to leave you for a short while," his voice came suddenly, almost startling me. "I'll take myself into the woods there, and hopefully find something we may lunch on. The horse will remain with you, to rest and graze while I hunt."

  "So you're going to hunt," I observed, looking around to see that we'd nearly reached the stand of trees. All the way to the right and beyond, through a place where the trees thinned a little, I could see what was probably a farmhouse. The trees stretched on a good distance before it became open spaces again, and someone with a bow like the one tied to the left of the saddle would likely find any number of luncheon targets.

  "Well, what I mean to do is attempt to hunt," he answered with apology oozing out of every word as he pulled our mount to a halt. "It's been some years since the last time I did so, but the episode with the rabbits has given me encouragement. I'll wager I return with birds at the very least."

  "Your enthusiasm and belief are positively uplifting," I told him with a smile, watching as he dismounted from behind me. "But you must be stiff from having my weight leaning against your legs for all those hours, and my hunting skills are a good deal more recently practiced. Your tunic is long enough to cover most of me, so if you'll lend it to me for a while I'll do the hunting. If anything under the tunic happens to show, there won't be anyone about to shock but the animals."

  "You want me to lend you my tunic," he said with an odd expression as he looked up at me, making no effort to help me down from the saddle. "But if I do, what will I wear?"

  "Are you afraid of freezing to death?" I asked with a snort, having already noticed the fresh sweat stains on the tunic in question. "Or are you too modest to show what you have hidden underneath? If it's modesty that's bothering you, I'll lend you my blanket and promise not to peek. And you really ought to give that sword to someone who knows how to use it."

  "My dear lady, this is all quite out of the question," he protested, then moved forward fast to catch me when I deliberately began sliding myself out of the saddle. "And you should have waited for me to assist you to the ground. I am the man of our party, and I mean to act like it. I find I've had my fill of being cared for in life, and will from now on be the master of my own fate!"

  The dedicated and determined look on his face would have been amusing enough to smile at - if it didn't mean he'd just refused to do everything I'd asked. I'd been wondering why there hadn't been anything for me to wear, and now it seemed I knew: as long as I was wrapped in a blanket, I couldn't take off on my own - or adequately use a weapon.

  "Well, then, how about simply lending me the tunic?" I asked, just to test my theory a bit further. "Baring your chest should be a manly enough thing to do, even if you are nothing but flab under there. And if you're all that interested in further experimentation, maybe I ought to say, 'I will if you will.'"

  I gave him the sort of grin night house girls are taught, just to see what would happen, and was immediately pleased I was watching him so carefully. His light gaze flickered down to where my hands moved the blanket teasingly, no more than normal interest showing briefly, and then he was suddenly stiffening in very obvious embarrassment.

  "My lady, please, this is the middle of the day!" he protested, and if he could have I think he would have blushed. "What's more, anyone could come along to see us! Just because a thing is proper between a man and his betrothed, doesn't mean it's proper everywhere and at any time. You will remain in that blanket and I will retain my tunic, and we'll have no more talk of such a nature."

  His huffing was really very well done, but unfortunately for him I now knew better than to believe it. What I needed to do was get my hands on his sword, and then there would be no problem with the tunic. It would be stained red and have a tear in it, but that couldn't be considered a problem.

  "You're absolutely right about there being too much talk," I said with a smile, opening the blanket and letting it fall artfully to the grass on either side of me. "What we really want is less air and more action. See, I've started us off. Now it's your turn, and I promise it won't hurt. You can trust me to be gentle."

  By then I was already advancing on him, my hands out toward his swordbelt, just as though I had no interest in it other than as something to be gotten out of our way as soon as possible. His eyes went briefly startled just before he began to back away, but the startlement had more annoyance in it than desperation, and his retreat seemed more reluctant than determined. To add to it, he hadn't even tried turning away in real embarrassment. I'd been looked at by men before, and if he wasn't enjoying what he was seeing, I'd eat my boots - as soon as I got them back.

  "Really, my lady, I must protest!" he tried as he backed, holding one hand up as though to keep me away. "You know how unsure of myself I am, so I couldn't possibly bring myself to - to - in broad daylight - and - "

  I was sure he was just about to plead the disability of an old battle wound, but he never got the chance. Without any previous warning that we weren't alone, four men burst out of the trees not far from us and came running toward us, shouting and waving their swords. From their ragged and filthy appearance they had to be bandits, and I had already reached for my hilt before remembering I didn't have one. Having no other choice I turned to the Flower, intending to take his weapon whether he liked it or not, and only then discovered I was far too late.

  For a Flower, his reflexes were excellent. He must have drawn the instant he saw the attackers, and with four of them he wasn't waiting for them to get to him. The shouting they were doing was supposed to intimidate their intended victims, but my shy, delicate companion was moving toward them instead of away, and the way he held his sword in his fist didn't seem to indicate he was after conversation. The first of the four, without realizing it, had pulled out slightly ahead of the others, and when gentle Lord Kylin the Flower reached him, my companion blocked a thrust then cut him down without even slowing.

  "Baste and broil it!" I muttered under my breath as the following three slowed and stopped, no longer quite as eager to reach their "victim." I'd never expected to see the day when I stood around doing nothing while my enemy hogged all the fun for himself, but there I was! And not only weaponless but naked! The three had sent a lot of attention in my direction when they'd first come charging out, but right now they were too busy thinking about their lives to do anything but back away with swords held out in front of them. Seeing that I began to move forward, heading for the bandit on the ground. Even if his clothes turned out to be too grimy to put on, a little dirt never hurt a sword.

  And then I heard the sound of hooves behind me, combined with a wild and mocking yell. I threw a quick look over my shoulder then dived to my left, just in time to avoid the arm of the bandit who was leaning down from the saddle of our horse, trying to scoop me up off the ground as he galloped past. I cursed my reflexes even as I rolled, realizing too late that I should have let him capture me just long enough for me to get my hands on his dagger. I came to a stop in the grass and twisted around soon enough to see my clever companion give up on chasing the horse and its rider into the woods. And while he'd had his attention elsewhere, the three he'd had right in front of him had gathered up the remains of their dead fourth and were also disappearing into the woods!

  "Wonderful," I muttered as I climbed to my feet. "Just wonderful." Then, when the great warrior and his sword had gotten close enough to hear, I added, "That has to be the most slipshod d
efense I've ever seen in my entire life. You had them, and you let them get away! Why didn't you add me and your purse into the bargain just to make it perfect?"

  "I was about to charge the first three when the last of them started after you!" he protested, and this time his skin did darken just a little. "If you hadn't jumped when you did, my purse would have been the only thing left out here. And if that horse had been carrying double again, I would have reached it before it reached the woods."

  "'Would have, could have, should have,'" I said, making it sound the way armsmasters usually did. "'If words like that had edges and points, every fool on two feet would be Evon himself.' Next time leave the heroics to someone who has already passed the bumbling stage."

  "I would have, but there wasn't anyone like that around," he came back, straightening as he looked down at me. "You know what they say about Blades: you can trust your back to one, and never have to worry. They don't have enough skill for back-stabbing."

  "And how would you know what they say about Blades?" I returned immediately, delighted that he'd fallen into my trap. "You, the delicate, sheltered virgin who can barely handle himself in a conversation - and who swings a sword like the captain of a Company. And don't look now, but you've lost your cultured accent."

  I was in a foul enough mood not to care what his reaction to the revelation would be, but I couldn't help noticing how odd that reaction was. Rather than showing guilt he groaned, and then he got mad.

  "Damn those fools and their weak-kneed attacks," he growled, turning to glare at the woods as he wiped his blade on his once-pretty trousers, then sheathed it with a slam. "If they'd minded their own business and stayed where they belonged, this wouldn't have happened."

  "It was about to happen anyway," I told his back, even more annoyed by his oddness. "I'm not quite as stupid as you apparently think I am. Who are you, and what do you expect to get out of all this?"

  "Who am I," he echoed, turning back to look at me with thoughtfulness rather than anger, not far from a sigh. "I'm exactly who I said I was, Kylin of Arthil, and what I expect to get out of this is a wife - preferably one who's still in one piece. Or have you forgotten we're betrothed?"

  "Back in the Silver Gleaming, they say I never forget anything," I remarked, folding my arms. "Like the fact that Kylin of Arthil is supposed to be a Flower. And was a Flower, until just a few minutes ago. Would you like to explain where that fits in?"

  "Not particularly," he answered, looking like he meant it, then put his hands out palms up and toward me. "All right, don't start getting ready to attack, I was only joking. The truth of the matter is I can't tell you about everything that's involved, but I can tell you this: my masquerade was for the purpose of protecting someone very close to you. No one was supposed to know the truth until after the ceremony was over, but you're not the only one who's found out. All we can do now is get back to your father's castle as fast as possible, then go on with the marriage immediately and hope everything turns out all right."

  "Oh, is that all we can do," I said with raised brows, then looked him up and down before deliberately turning my back. "It's really odd, but I can think of quite a number of other things to do, and frankly, any one of them is more appealing than - Evon dip and pepper them! They've even taken my blanket!"

  "What's the matter, are you afraid you'll freeze?" the idiot asked from behind me as I glared around at the empty grass. "If you'd kept the thing around you instead of trying to be provocative, you might not have lost it."

  "If not for your nonsense in pretending to be a Flower, I wouldn't have had to try being provocative," I came back, turning again to give him the complete benefit of my glare. "And if I recall correctly, you're also the legendary hero who even let a dead bandit get away from him. What do you expect me to do now, 0 great one? Walk back to my father's castle naked?"

  "That might not be a bad idea," he said, folding his arms as he let those light eyes move slowly over me. "I'm one of those who usually enjoy sight of the countryside, but nothing's so perfect that it can't use a little dressing up - or, in this case, undressing. Once we put enough distance between us and those bandits, we'll also be able to put your suggestion of less talk and more action into practice. And don't forget - you promised to be gentle with me."

  His faint grin was as bold and forward as someone else's laughter would have been, as far from the horrified innocence of his Flower character as it was possible to get. My hands curled to fists at my sides as my cheeks warmed and I felt the urge to pull a cover over me again, and I still couldn't understand why it was happening. Whether or not he was Kylin of Arthil, he was certainly no friend to me and mine, no matter what new story he had suddenly come up with. Of course his masquerade had been for the benefit of someone close to me, and of course there was nothing better for me to do than marry him immediately. Well, whether he knew it or not, there was a way I could find answers I liked a bit better.

  "If you're that much in need of gentle handling, you'll have to pay for it," I said, hopefully showing nothing of what I was planning. "Despite your obviously twisted sense of humor, I have the feeling you're no longer desperate to hang onto that tunic. Hand it over, or negotiations concerning gentleness are finished before they get started."

  "I can see I'm going to have to spend some time teaching you how to ask politely for the things you want," he said, still amused but already reaching down to open his swordbelt. "An occasional 'please' and 'thank you' will do wonders, something you'll learn as the years go by."

  As the years went by with him, he meant. I folded my arms and said nothing as he dropped that red swordbelt to the grass at his feet, part of his attention on the wood to be sure the bandits weren't waiting to come racing out again as soon as he was partially disarmed. I pretended to be watching the woods too, but what I was really waiting for was the time his tunic was pulled completely over his head. That was when I intended to show him exactly how many years we would have together - or possibly minutes, which might be a more accurate measurement. However long it turned out to be, though, he definitely would not be enjoying it.

  A delicately jeweled belt with pouch and sheathed dagger was also around his waist, and as soon as that was off he reached for the bottom of the tunic. Raising it showed me why he'd been so desperate earlier to protect his virtue; despite the convincing suggestion of the pleated cloth, there wasn't an ounce of fat on the body it covered. The tunic went up higher, showing more of the same - and then the cloth was over his face, the moment I'd been waiting for. Without the least hesitation, I jumped for the sword lying unguarded in the grass.

  I had gone to one knee and actually had my hand around the awful silver hilt, beginning to draw the blade free, when two arms wrapped around me from behind. If I'd been standing I would have been able to kick backwards, but down in a kneeling position I was virtually helpless. His right hand went to my right wrist and his left hand to the sword, and then the weapon was gone out of my grasp as though a priest of Dagir had waved his wand.

  "I can also see we're going to have to have a long talk about touching things that don't belong to us," he said, straightening away from me with both sword and swordbelt in his hand. "I told you before that this weapon is mine, and I'm keeping it whether or not you think I can use it. You're lucky I hurried getting that tunic off, to be sure those bandits didn't decide to attack again. If I'd had to do more to get my sword back than simply taking it away from you, you wouldn't have enjoyed it."

  Lucky, I thought in disgust as I rose to my feet, rubbing at my right wrist. I hadn't had one bit of decent luck since I'd gotten my father's letter, and if he was stupid enough to think I was enjoying myself now he was completely beyond hope. The only bit of fortune involved was that he didn't seen, to know why I'd been trying for the sword. That would have been enough to give me another chance at the weapon - if I hadn't suddenly become sick and tired of playing games.

  "Long talks bore me," was all I said as I went toward the tunic he'd dropped
in the grass and retrieved it. I didn't think it necessary to add that what I usually did with an enemy had nothing to do with talk. The tunic was more than well-worn and was still damp with his sweat, but I pulled it on anyway, then tugged the sleeves up. If my arms and hands were completely lost in the thing, my legs weren't, but it still fit well enough to be an adequate, if rather hot, covering. Once the tunic was on and adjusted as well as it ever would be, I turned and started walking toward the road.

  "Hey, where do you think you're going!" I heard from behind me, and the next moment a big hand had closed around my arm, bringing me to a halt. "This isn't the time or the place for wandering off."

  "You won't often find me engaged in wandering," I answered, pulling my arm out of his grip before looking up into his face. "I'm in a hurry to get home, so I'm heading back to the road. When I reach that inn you can't quite remember the location of, I ought to be able to get some decent clothes and a horse. I hope you don't freeze without the tunic."

  Once again I started off, certain I'd made it clear I had no interest in his company, but keeping me company wasn't what he had in mind. The next instant his hand was on my arm again, and this time I found I couldn't pull away.

  "That inn is much too far away to do either of us any good, " he said, a casual statement as he began to force me with him through the grass, parallel to the trees now on our left. "When we first rode into this meadow I saw a farmhouse off to the right, beyond those trees. We'll try that first, and leave the inn as a last resort."