by Beth Mikell
She peered up into the warrior’s face and his gray eyes softened, willing her to be strong through his soothing supplication. Adara nodded her head, but then straightened, grabbing Decimus’s forearms, shock taking hold of her. “He—he said to keep his death a secret. He—he—”
Decimus looked deep into her eyes, understanding shining from his expression. “I know, my lady. I will take care of everything. You need to rest, please.”
And HieLach’s faithful knight served as he promised.
*.*.*.*
Past memories flooded Adara, remembering every detail of her father’s death. She sat in her large bed, her knees tucked up with her arms wrapped around them. Decimus secretly buried her father and kept the ruse that he remained ill, languishing in sickness. No one knew the secret she kept so violently within her chest until it hurt to breathe. She lied day and night to her people and friends. Even to her hated uncle. Only Decimus and Cylah, her female warrior, knew the secret protected from the public.
Decimus was a true man of honor. He was her father’s knight, serving him without fault or unscrupulous greed. He taught Adara how to ride a horse at age five and how to fight like a true warrior when she was but eleven years old. He had honed her skills over the years to absolute perfection. He made her a tactician against warfare, teaching her offense and defense in all scenarios, explaining to her how she must master the art of weapons and war to live within the borderlands safe and protected. In many ways, Decimus raised her just as much as her father, Lord Samuel.
Decimus was always kind, always gentle.
Adara’s strong and fierce warrior was… missing.
Three days ago, he left with his group of four trusted knights to ride his usual sentry path of HieLach lands. However, this time he had not returned. As a rule, he never left for more than a few hours at a time, so after a day of his absence, Adara panicked, but tried to hide her fear. Without Decimus, there was no seasoned warrior to help defend the keep, or to withstand the worst of the Gray Legion violence.
Now, oppressive nightmares claimed Adara by night as lies and deception followed her during the day. There was no justification but that of self-preservation and survival. Inside her heart and soul, she still felt like a little girl, still aching for the death of her father, but the mask she wore during the daylight hours showed a very different façade: one of a calm and determined righteous woman. In truth, there was not a whole woman inside her.
She shouldered so many responsibilities beyond a normal mistress of a keep. Her home was a pass off from the Gray Legion’s attacks throughout the years. Distraught, abused, homeless women and children sought refuge at HieLach. She abided as their guardian, their protector, and healer, fortifying their hopes and dreams with shelter, food, and safety. In return, the lost women worked hard to make HieLach comfortable and stable—working the land, harvesting their coveted elderberry plants for medicines to sell at markets, making clothing, and other crafts for coin. Nothing was wasted and everything and everyone continued through necessity, including Decimus—if one person went missing, they all suffered.
Adara also carried family duties. Nine years ago her brother, John and his wife Elizabeth died of a disease, leaving their infant daughter, Kayden, to Lord Samuel while he still lived. She was a precious child, but even she did not understand everything happening around her. As much as Adara tried to protect her, the weight of the responsibility weighed heavily upon her and her niece.
Though Lord Samuel had been a rich merchant until his death, Adara still maintained his trade routes, even though the difficulty of the Gray Legion attacking their convoys remained. The borderlands were such a disputed area between Scotland and England. Neither king could relinquish its hold, but neither wanted to go to war of it. HieLach stood right in the middle of the borderlands—viewed as either a rich prospect or a forgotten heartache. The Gray Legion must see HieLach with greed. They tirelessly burdened Adara with villainous activity, which tested her patience on a weekly basis.
So many thoughts ran through her mind, which made sleep impossible. What she needed was a miracle—and soon.
Chapter 3
“My lady, riders are coming in!”
Adara’s squire blared the announcement, entering her dark herbal.
One year ago, she saved thirteen year old, Eli. He was on the verge of death from a Gray Legion raid to a village near HieLach. She nursed him back to health, though realizing his family had been slaughtered, she gave him the honored position as her squire, elevating his grieving spirit with hope.
“Where is Cylah?” Adara asked after her female knight as she washed and dried her hands hurriedly. She had made more medicine as was her usual early morning task. She did everything she could to take her mind off Decimus’s disappearance.
“At the gate, my lady.”
She followed her young squire up the stone stairs to the first level of the keep, smoothing a hand over her armor, readjusting the black scarf around her head; her dark red hair was coiled underneath. Since Decimus’s disappearance, she had taken to wearing her armor, which fit snugly over her breasts down to her hips with bell sleeves in sheer black, covering her shoulders. Wide strips of black leather made up the skirt to her knees, with black leather pants in black knee boots and at her waist lay both a dagger and a broadsword.
They made their way through the keep to Cylah. The female knight was dressed exactly as Adara in tailored armor, yet her black hair was coiled without a scarf. As a woman of Saxon-Norse birth, she boasted a resolute attitude of ’kill then question’ kind of mentality. Nothing slipped by her and no one messed with the woman warrior. She was hard and crusty without smiles or banter.
Adara’s troubled eyes watched the riders approach with concern. “Do you recognize them, Cylah?”
The female warrior blew out a huff of air. “It looks like the Imperial Elite is descending—only Lord Darrius is not among them.”
The Lady of HieLach remained thoughtful, though she had expected the visit. When she had traveled to Blackstone Castle for the tournament three months ago, Lord Darrius had mentioned a possible meeting. She had hoped he had forgotten. Apparently not. “Verify it is indeed the Imperial Elite and let them through—even if they wish to remain armed.”
Cylah moved to protest because it was a strict HieLach policy that all guests disarm before entering the keep. Adara stopped her with a wave of her hand. “Nay, I trust these knights. Lord Darrius has a fine group of warriors, which he trusts implicitly, and we shall not offend his honor by unnecessary scorn. And only a guess, but they most likely would protest anyway. The best course of action we can take is to remain calm and treat them with courtesy.”
The female knight offered a shrug. “As you wish, my lady.”
“See them to the great hall. I shall await you there.”
She searched for every reason to be thankful and hopeful. All she had to do was inform Lord Darrius’ knights that Decimus was missing, and enlist their help to search for her lost knight. Perhaps he lay injured and may need help. Maybe heaven sent her miracle after all.
*.*.*.*
Adara stood before the stone fireplace, summoning all her energy to form a welcoming smile on her lips as she greeted her guests. Years of training taught her how to maintain outwardly cool, even if she were crying on the inside.
The clipped sound of several boots hit on the stone floor, stinging her nerves. She took a deep breath to meet them with a composed expression. Cylah walked directly to her side, folding her arms in front of her, using her imposing warrior stance and expressionless cold stare against the uninvited visitors.
“My lady, how are you?” Colin bowed as the rest of the men filed in around him and followed suit.
With her smile still in place, she said, “Very well, thank you. And to what honor do I owe the pleasure of Lord Darrius’s Imperial Elite?”
Colin smiled. “At my lord’s command, we have come to investigate matters of the Gray Legion’s activity within
the borderlands, as you are aware.”
Adara nodded her head. “I am quite aware, I can assure you.” She swallowed hard as she glanced at Rowan. She did not understand her reaction to him.
She was usually impervious to men, focused entirely upon her duty and responsibilities. During her time at Blackstone Castle, she had become consciously aware of him. As much as she had wished to ignore her internal interest, Rowan had affected her awareness.
He was tall and muscular with long brown hair, which he kept tied back low on his nape with a leather tie. His dark, shadowy black beard covered his face and his light brown eyes pierced her until her pulse hammered her veins in pursuit of something foreign. Her chest tightened, making a mockery of her usual calm, inciting her need to flee. But she had enough troubles without focusing on herself or what these feelings could mean. Ignoring Rowan was easier than assessing her unnerving response to a man she did not know.
*.*.*.*
Rowan took a step forward, though Colin may have returned to his position, such diplomatic affairs fell to his direction when Darrius was not present. Moreover, he wanted to use the opportunity to force Adara to speak to him. He needed her focus on him. No, he was starved for her.
He took a deep breath. “Has there been trouble? Is that why you are dressed for combat, my lady?” He studied her face, missing nothing. Stress beat a line around her tightly drawn lips. Her faux smile offset her distress and her dark eyes were steeped in worry, though she tried to veil it, but he noticed. His insides contorted with complete provocation just to breathe her same air.
Adara cleared her throat, her lips parting. “The truth is… there has been a development,” she announced, ignoring Cylah’s swift look of disapproval.
When she hesitated to explain, Rowan prompted her. “And that would be, my lady?” He ached to step closer, but he wisely stayed firmly planted.
The lady took a deep breath. “Decimus, my father’s knight, as you may recall from the tournament, has been missing these last three days. He went out for a routine inspection of HieLach lands and never returned.”
Colin nodded his head. “Lady Adara, we could investigate, if you like,” he offered. “One of our duties for King Henry is to protect the welfare of his people, and we certainly would not want to lose the opportunity to aid new friends as Lord Darrius would agree.”
Her smile pulled tighter. “That would be a most generous act of friendship indeed,” Adara said, continuing, “You know how delicate the borderland situation to be. Both Cylah and I will accompany you.”
“My lady, I must refuse—” Rowan began.
A young lad rushed into the hall. “My lady, forgive me for intruding, but Decimus’s horse has returned!”
*.*.*.*
Adara’s immediate response at the news of Decimus made her happy until Eli followed it up with only the horse had returned. Her heart sank, and fear pounded another unwelcome greeting. With firm determination to investigate the state of Decimus’s horse, Stein, she proceeded ahead of her guests, their footsteps following.
In the inner court, Ulrich, the stable master, held the reigns of the large warhorse and Adara approached Stein easily, stroking the large beast with soothing words. Her eyes inspected every inch of the animal. On the saddle, her hand came back with smeared blood.
“God above,” she whispered, staring down at her palm.
“My lady.” Rowan came to stand beside her.
Adara turned to look at him, shock reflected in her eyes. For a moment, her vulnerability shook her deeply, but then her customary mask fell down over her expression. Within the space of a heartbeat, she shielded her emotions from him, turning to address her squire. “Eli, go saddle Isidore,” she ordered, looking at her female knight. “Cylah, we are going out to look for Decimus,” she said, tonelessly and when she turned to go, Rowan blocked her path.
“Lady Adara, I insist that you let the Imperial Elite look for Decimus. ‘Tis not safe for you.”
Adara stiffened. She was not use to anyone contradicting her authority or decisions, and she stared Rowan in the eyes. “Neither is waiting for the Gray Legion to kill us. I cannot believe Decimus was so easily taken without foul play—especially not in the borderlands with the Gray Legion bombarding us with their treachery. Besides, Decimus could be out there, injured. I can help him if that is the case—and faster if I am with you,” she said, her decision was made.
“She does have a point,” Colin interjected. “Lady Adara is skillful as a healer.”
Everyone knew he referenced how the Lady of HieLach healed Ryrie, his wife, after she sustained a sword injury.
Rowan threw Colin a scowl. “I am sure that is why we brought Nyle,” he said sardonically, casting a harsh glance toward his brother and the accused raised an eyebrow, but made no comment.
Adara was not interested in being coddled. “Are we going to argue or move? Personally, I think it is a waste of time to debate the issue further. I will get my bag.” She sidestepped Rowan to get her large pouch, containing her medicinal supplies.
While she appreciated the Imperial Elite’s presence, which would allow her to finally search for Decimus, she refused to be maligned into sitting back in the keep waiting for news. It was not her way. After washing her hands, she grabbed her pouch and her sleek metal gauntlets, securing them at her wrists. She knew there was safety in numbers, which was one of the reasons she had not gone to search for Decimus herself.
He always taught her caution.
Exiting the keep, Adara ignored Rowan’s disapproving gaze. She headed straight for Isidore. With a skillful hand, she rechecked her horse’s harness and saddle, securing her pouch to the saddle. Her shield hung in readiness without having to tell Eli. She was sure if she had told him to fetch it, Rowan would have had something else to say regarding the matter. Taking the reins from Eli’s waiting hands, Adara vaulted up on Isidore, pulling her warhorse around.
“Eli, ask Rylan to close the portcullis and drawbridge until we return,” she informed her squire.
“At once, my lady.”
Cylah reined her mount alongside Adara. “Decimus’s horse came from the west, my lady.” She pointed the direction.
The lady of the keep looked at Rowan, unnerved to find his gaze intent on her. “Shall we?”
He gave her a curt nod and followed her with the Imperial Elite close behind.
Cylah took the lead, but to Adara’s dismay, there were no signs of Decimus or his men. In the end, the female knight led them down a shallow hill, roughly thirty minutes away from HieLach, and the signs of a struggle were evident in the torn earth. All the riders dismounted, searching for clues. Rowan stayed close to Adara as she explored.
“My lady!” Cylah yelled some distance away.
Adara took off running, her agile body moving fluidly over the ground with Rowan right beside her. To her horror, the ground was covered in a pool of congealed blood. She sank to her knees, touching the red liquid on the ground, smoothing it between her thumb and forefinger. She stared down at her bloodied fingers.
Tears stung her eyes. “Dear God… where are you Decimus?” She inhaled a deep breath to control her nerves, closing her eyes against a flood of terror. She could not lose Decimus. The pain would be too much.
Rowan moved closer. “Lady, you cannot continue this way. You may need to consider that Decimus is lost to you,” he said with gentleness.
Rage filled her and she sprang to her feet, her eyes glittering hard. “Nay! I will not consider anything of the kind!” she fumed. “Until I see his dead body with my own eyes, I will never believe it!”
He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look directly. “Then come back to Blackstone Castle until this over and let the Imperial Elite fret out the Gray Legion once and for all. You cannot stay here so unprotected, lass,” he said quietly.
She pushed his hands away. As she lifted her chin with defiance, anger flushed her face. “No! I will not leave. HieLach would succumb to every terror the
damned Gray Legion would want to inflict. What would the people do?” She drew an unsteady breath, releasing it slowly. “Most of them are just women and children, Rowan. Until they kill me, I will stay! And I would rather burn HieLach to the ground than to see it fall into enemy hands!” she said vehemently, stalking back to Isidore, ignoring everyone. Her control was ready to snap.
Reaching for Isidore’s reigns, large hands came down atop hers and she met Rowan’s determined gaze. His body was so close, and his warm breath fanned her cheek. Never in her life had she allowed a man within such a close proximity, yet she was thrown off balance. His heady scent alone drove her senses wild. Her equilibrium was knocked out of reach, and she was seized with the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms.
“You cannot do this alone, lass. I will not allow it,” he whispered, his light brown eyes reflecting tenderness.
Adara raised an eyebrow. “I never said I would do this alone, but I will not sit idly back and play a victim to group of brutes. And if I find they have killed Decimus, so help them God, but I will kill them,” she said succinctly.
Rowan snorted ungenerously. “And how do you propose to do that, pray? You could not even leave the keep to search for Decimus, my lady. While I admire yer skills as a deft warrior, you still lack the dominating strength of a man. I dare say the Gray Legion would use that to their advantage. Do not be so quick to rush into this.”
Her lips drew up into a smirk. “I never do anything speedily, so do not fear that.” She removed her hand from his, vaulting back on Isidore. “Besides, man or not, I can outwit them and I plan to just that.” She propelled her horse forward in preparation to leave.
*.*.*.*
Rowan stared after her.
God’s blood.
Something about her incited a sensual calling in his soul. Nothing would stop him from keeping her safe. The woman was not only stubborn, but unless someone intervened, she would get herself killed. He inwardly cursed her obstinacy.
