Box Set - Knights of Passion (7 Novels)
Page 71
It was the blade of a highly polished sword. What would a falconer be doing with a sword? A shiver of apprehension coursed through her as she pushed the hay farther away from the weapon, revealing the full length of the sword. Solace picked the weapon up, needing two hands to lift its weight, and placed it on her lap to study it. The leather grip covering the handle was well worn. A red jewel adorned the bottom of the handle, its deep color absorbing the candlelight, giving it a lustrous glow. Just above the guard, etched in the silver of the blade, was a crest. Two crossed swords over a full moon. Solace frowned slightly. She had seen that crest somewhere before. But where?
Again the question came to her mind: what was a falconer doing with a sword? Was he a thief? Or a fighter?
Her eyes shifted to the weapon. The sword was beautiful, polished so highly that she could see her reflection in the flat part of the blade. She ran her finger lightly along the side of it. So smooth, she marveled. So... sharp!
She pulled her finger away with a start. The blade cleanly cut her skin, leaving a smear of blood along the sword’s flawless edge. She stuck her finger in her mouth.
Suddenly, she heard a rustling sound behind her. She shoved the sword back beneath the hay and stood up, whirling to see the falconer standing in the doorway.
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
CHAPTER EIGHT
“What are you doing here?” Logan demanded.
Solace stood motionless, frozen like a rabbit knowing it’s been spotted by a bird of prey.
He closed the door behind him, his gaze raking over her, taking in her pale expression, her wild, loose hair, the way she was standing near his bed. He felt an instantaneous, unwanted, stirring in his loins.
“The door was open. I... I thought something was wrong,” she finally said.
Logan studied her face for a moment; her eyes seemed to be larger than normal, full of guilt. But they were still the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. It was as if someone had stolen the magic of the sea and locked it in her eyes.
He forced himself to turn away, quickly scanning the room, but nothing seemed to be amiss. He looked back at Solace. “What do you want?”
“I was looking for you. I wanted to thank you. I meant to do it earlier, but – ”
“Thank me?” he echoed. His eyes narrowed.
“For saving me,” she added quickly.
He watched the way she nervously twisted her hands before her. “And you snuck into my room to do this?”
“I already told you the door was open. I thought Old Ben might be hurt or – ”
“So you just walked into my room?”
“I didn’t know it was your room,” she insisted.
Logan frowned at her. “Couldn’t this wait until morning?”
She shuffled her feet. “I’ve been so busy all day I feared I would have even less time tomorrow,” she answered, gazing up at him from beneath lowered eyelashes. “And I did want to thank you.”
The shaft of moonlight slanted across her large eyes, making them glow with an irresistible innocence. He took a step forward and found himself before her. The scent of roses floated to him, enveloping him in her sweet fragrance. His shadow erased the candlelight, and for one mad moment he wished he could see her eyes again.
“What kind of gratitude are you offering?” he wondered, his voice deep and husky.
Solace opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say a word, Logan placed his hands on her shoulders, gently brushing her silky hair aside. He felt her sharp intake of breath, the press of her breasts against his chest as he stepped forward, drawing her against him.
Suddenly, his boot caught on something. He glanced down to find the hilt of his sword sticking out of the hay. He looked up to find her head bent, her eyes focused on the sword at their feet. When she lifted her gaze to his, he saw a sudden flash of fear flare in her bright green eyes.
Without warning, Solace shoved him aside and bolted for the door. He quickly recovered, spinning toward the door. In one stride he crossed the room, moving with the agility of a warrior. Solace barely opened the door before he slammed it shut from behind her.
“Here to thank me, eh?” Logan growled.
Again, she pulled at the door, but against his strength she was no match.
“What do you want?” he demanded. “Why are you here?”
Suddenly, she straightened and turned to him. Her eyes flashed with defiance. “What are you hiding?”
He slapped his other palm against the door, trapping her between his arms. He leaned closer to her, bringing his face only inches from hers. He could all but smell her fright. He could almost feel her heart beating wildly. “You play a dangerous game, lady Solace.”
“Who are you?” she demanded, even though her body trembled.
He had to admire her strength, her spirit, the way her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. He leaned closer, without touching her. Didn’t she realize the danger she was in? Why wasn’t she pleading with him to spare her life? “The falconer,” he whispered.
He watched her swallow hard, the way her delicate throat worked. “Falconers don’t have swords,” she answered breathlessly.
“And snooping doesn’t befit a lady,” he retorted.
“I wasn’t snooping!” she insisted. “I came to thank you!”
“Then how did you find the sword?” Logan wondered, a mocking sneer curving his lips.
He watched conflicting emotions dance across her lovely face. She immediately opened her mouth to retort, but then a frown creased her brow and she clenched her teeth. Her green eyes flashed with resolution. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, begrudgingly relinquishing victory. “I didn’t mean to snoop.” She dropped her head and wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m sorry.”
Logan’s suspicion slipped a notch at her admission. It took courage to admit fault. Not many would acknowledge it. But she had seen the sword, and it had his crest on it. Did she know who he really was? Why he was here? “Let’s talk about why you’re really here.”
Her eyes jerked up to his, and Logan found a moment of delight at seeing those shimmering, heated orbs again. He wanted to kiss that thin-lipped anger into full-blown desire. He wanted to see what those magnificent eyes looked like in the heat of passion. He wanted her to admit that she came into his room in the middle of the night to feel his kisses, his hands, his...
“Very well,” she said quietly. “I really do appreciate what you did for me this afternoon. You risked your life to help me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said.
“But that’s why I’m here,” she replied.
Logan narrowed his eyes. She was too dangerous. He couldn’t afford to have someone discover who he was before he found his brother. He lifted a hand from the wall and moved it toward her neck. Instead, the traitorous hand ran a finger over her cheek. He marveled at the chiseled perfection of her face. His gaze shifted from her cheek to meet her stare. She was watching him in silence with daunting emerald eyes.
What the hell was he doing! Angry, he pushed away from her with a snarl. “Go!” he commanded. He expected to hear the door open and close quickly, to be left standing alone.
She whirled to do just as he expected, but suddenly she was still, her hand on the handle of the door.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes to find her still there. Oh, he thought with a groan. She was tempting him. He could just reach around her smooth, delicate throat and run a kiss... a dagger across it. She wouldn’t even know what had happened. He could just...
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The sincerity in her voice froze him. It really was why she’d come. She had wanted to thank him.
Then she opened the door and was gone, fleeing into the darkness.
Logan stared at the space she had just occupied. He was a fool. He had risked his freedom by opening the castle gates for her and now he was risking his life by letting her go. Surely she would sound an alarm, call the guards’ a
ttention to him.
Disgusted, he sat on the side of the bed, staring at the sword. He pulled it from the straw with one hand, holding it before him. What is happening to me, Father? he wondered as he stared at the sword’s gleaming surface. She taints me like a poison, casts a spell over my very flesh. I should keep only my mission in my mind, be pure like this sword.
He turned the blade over, and his eyes narrowed at what he saw. A thin line of dark red on the edge of its surface. Even the sword thirsts for her blood! Logan’s eyes rose to the door, to the path Solace had just taken. Then why did his body hunger for something else?
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
CHAPTER NINE
“I couldn’t see much, m’lady,” the voice from behind the dungeon cell door said. “Me old eyes ain’t what they used ta be. And that torch was so bright.”
Solace nodded, listening to the prisoner’s tale. After awakening from a fitful night’s sleep, a sleep filled with falcons and silver lightning and horrific beasts lurking in the shadows of the castle, she had immersed herself in the task of finding the murderer. She had come to the dungeon to ask the prisoners about the guard’s death. “Was there anything different about him?” she asked the old man in the cell. “Anything at all?”
There was a long silence, and Solace glanced over her shoulder at her escort lounging against the dungeon wall, half hidden in the darkness. When the old man began to speak, she turned her attention back to the door. Two bloodshot eyes gazed at her through the small opening in the wooden door. She could see several pustulant sores ringing the wrinkled skin around his eyes.
“He did carry some sort of stick,” the old man said.
“A stick?”
“Aye, sort of like a rod.”
“A staff,” the man standing against the wall supplied, pushing himself from it into the circle of light cast by the flickering torch on the wall. His brown, bowl-cut hair shimmered in the light. He wore chain-mail armor over his body that cast little pools of reflected light on the murky walls of the dungeon. A sword was strapped to his waist.
“Yes, yes. That’s what it was,” the old man beamed.
“That must’ve been how he killed the guard,” the man said, leaning close to Solace, reaching out to pull her away from the leper.
Solace shrugged off her escort’s hand. “Did he ask for anything? Did he want anything?”
The old leper’s eyes narrowed. “I think he was looking for someone. He was calling for someone.”
“Who?” Solace wondered.
The prisoner shook his head. “I can’t remember who.”
Solace scowled. “And you can’t remember anything about how he looked?”
“Oh, my lady, he coulda been anyone. Anyone’t all. Except...”
Solace placed a hand against the door as if that might coax him.
“Except that he was rather big.”
“Heavy?” Solace supplied.
“No. Strong. And tall.”
The man accompanying Solace walked to her side as if to protect her. There was confusion in his eyes. He held up a hand about a head taller than Solace. “This big?”
The prisoner shook his head. “No.”
The man lifted his hand until it was at his own height. “This tall?”
“Yes,” the prisoner said, nodding.
Solace turned to the man beside her. He gazed at her for a moment, then shrugged.
“Thank you, Ed,” Solace said to the prisoner. “If you think of anything, anything at all, let the guard know and he’ll call me. And don’t worry, Ed. As soon as the siege is over I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Bless you, m’lady,” he whispered.
Solace left the dungeon, escorted by her companion.
When they entered the keep, her friend spoke. “You’re not taking what he said seriously, are you?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Solace wondered. “We’ve questioned everyone else. He’s the only one who saw the killer.”
“He’s a thief and a liar, Solace!” the man cried. “That’s why he’s been in the dungeon for the past seven years. You can’t trust what he says.”
“He’s a leper now. And he is very old,” Solace said. “He wouldn’t lie. I told him I’d free him even if he had nothing to tell me. There’s no reason for him to lie.”
“I still wish you wouldn’t pursue this. It’s dangerous, Solace.”
“I know. And I promise I’ll be careful.”
“It’s not enough to be careful. This is a murderer. He’s already killed the dungeon guard. He might very well kill you, too, if you get in his way.”
Solace stopped to face her friend, staring earnestly into his eyes. “No one is safe until we find him.”
The man groaned softly. “There is no use talking to you when you get like this. Just promise me that if you find out who this killer is, you’ll tell me and you won’t go after him alone.”
She smiled gently. “I promise. I’ll let you protect me and guard my life.”
The man softly kissed her on her cheek. “I hate it when you make me worry about you like this. And lately you’ve been doing it far too much.”
“You sound like my father,” she chastised playfully.
“If he were here, you wouldn’t be doing this.”
“If he were here, I wouldn’t have to be doing this.”
The man smiled sadly. “He’s been away for a long time.”
Solace nodded, an ache tugging at her heart. She missed her father. She whimsically remembered the way his smile curved his droopy mustache. She wondered if the gray peppering through his dark hair had completely spread over his head yet. The few letters he had sent her had been filled with tales of court intrigue, giving only glimpses of the man -- the father -- she remembered. Yes, she mused silently. He had been away for a long time.
“I have to take my post now,” the man said, jarring her from her reverie. “Stay out of trouble.”
“Thank you, Peter,” she said and watched him walk away.
She thought about Ed’s description of the murderer. A strong man. A tall man. Peter’s height. She scowled, glancing down the path Peter had taken. Most of the guards were shorter than Peter and almost none were as strong. And none of them, not one, had a staff.
Solace frowned, trying to think. But suddenly the memory of hot hands on her shoulders invaded her mind. She recalled cold silver eyes staring at her with forging-hot intensity. She had been fighting the images all day, burying them beneath her duty.
Something pulled at the back of her mind, demanding her attention. The image of the crest on the falconer’s sword loomed in her thoughts again. She had drawn it on a piece of paper... two swords crossed over a full moon. She had seen it before, she was sure of it. But where? She wished desperately that Gwen were still here so she could talk to her about her turbulent emotions.
Solace paused for a moment, her hand outstretched for the handle of her chamber door. She had so much to do. She needed to see to the wounded, had to help the villagers whose animal pens had been damaged in the arrow attack, needed to meet with the servants about the rationing of water and food. She had to find out who the killer was. Then why did she want to return to the mews so badly?
Solace whirled and headed away from her room toward the spiral staircase at the end of the corridor. So much to do. People depending on her. She took the stairs upward. But she needed to think. She needed to be alone. She needed to sort out these new emotions, these strange feelings.
The dust parted beneath her feet, trailing her like the wake of a boat, as she moved down a shadowy hallway. Spider webs dangled from the top corners of the door at the end of the hallway. The servants all believed ghosts of the dead lived behind the massive doors. But not Solace. Talk of ghosts was nonsense. She liked coming here because she knew no one else would dare set foot in this room. She stared at the heavy wooden doors, studying the intricate carvings hewn into their surface, an elaborate scrollwork of heraldry shapes
and symbols. As she pushed the huge double doors open, they creaked in protest.
Before her stretched a long room. Soldiers lined the wall in silent effigy in the forms of plate-mail suits and pictures of long-dead fighters.
Solace swept into the room, unmindful of the ancient warriors. The sun’s rays reached through a large window at the opposite end, stretching across the floor like fingers. She approached the window.
Before her, Fulton stretched, unblemished lands of rolling hills. If she tried hard enough, she could almost imagine it was just another beautiful day, that there wasn’t a horde of soldiers below her, that her people weren’t wounded and hurt. Solace sighed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the siege. All she wanted was to clear her mind, to relax enough to think. Who could the murderer have been looking for? Why was he desperate enough to kill? Would he do it again? She could not let his identity escape her.
A creak sounded behind her and she whirled, her eyes scanning the room. Had someone followed her? But there was no one in the room. That was odd. She shrugged slightly and turned back to gaze upon the deceivingly serene sky above her.
I suppose anyone would be jumpy with this siege going on, she thought to herself. There was always risk of infiltration and...
Footsteps. Solace turned. But the large room was empty. Not a soul in sight. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she took a step away from the window. Her gaze swept the pictures, the suits of plate armor. This had been the ancestral hall of the previous lord. Lord Randol. His family was the one watching her out of unseeing eyes. Her father had wanted the hall cleared and scrubbed clean of any memory of lord Randol and his barbarous history, but her stepmother had convinced him otherwise. She was afraid the angry ghosts would be freed from this room and begin a reign of terror, haunting the entire castle.