* * *
Clara’s eyes shot open. “Not again!”
She hopped out of bed, not thinking to change out of her sleeping gown. Rushing toward the door, she hurried through the house. Her feet slid and she bumped into a wall as she overshot the front door. Fumbling to push it open, she then held up her hands and yelled, “I know, I know, solarflowers!”
Three ceffyls stood in the street looking at her. She quickly stepped down the path toward them, anxious to stop them before their number multiplied. Closing her eyes, she projected the picture of the flower at them.
“I know, I know. You want solarflowers,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice soothing.
The creatures tapped their feet. She held her ground. They began showing her images of live births. This time, since there were less of them, she could sift through the information more easily. She saw hands, human hands, catching the babies that didn’t move. The man’s face wasn’t known to her, but she let them know she saw. They again showed her the flowers.
Clara sighed with relief when the images stopped. The ceffyls hissed their long tongues, their attention wavering as they ignored her for the long grass growing by the gate. She took a deep breath. The sound of giggles drew her attention sharply to the side. A group of boys, some of who she recognized from the forest, stared at her. Their grins only widened at her attention and they laughed harder. Clara glanced down to see she was barefoot and in her night clothes. Gasping, she ran toward the house.
Clara almost ran into Vlad’s chest on her way through the door.
“What did they want?” he asked sleepily.
“Solarflowers,” she answered. “Always solarflowers. I think it helps them cope with death or something”
Vlad shut the door behind her. “I need to go back into the mines.”
Clara stiffened. “No.” The word slipped out before she could stop it.
“I will be fine,” he reassured her. “We’ll go in a large group and take every precaution. We need to make sure the air is vented and samples are taken from the hollow. My brothers should have returned home with their brides. We’ll go to our castle to meet with them. I’ll have the samples tested. We’ll report the Tyoe infestation and figure out a way to defeat them with the help of my brothers.” He paused, kissing her nose. “And you, sweet wife, can talk to Alek about the solarflowers. Perhaps you can find a way to stop the ceffyls from following you.”
Clara looked around the villager’s home. The idea of noble households and castles seemed so strange to her now. She’d found more support and happiness in this little cottage than she ever had in her parent’s home. Yes, being locked in the mines had been terrifying and was not something she wanted to relive—ever—but Arianwen hugged her, Tomos patted her arm, the brothers treated her like family. And Vlad, he was the most gentle and loving of men she had ever met.
“It is early. Let’s go back to bed.” When he smiled at her, she suspected it wasn’t sleep he had in mind. Vlad hooked her arm with his and led her toward the hall to the guest room. She stopped, pulling back. He looked at her questioningly.
“I love you,” she said. “I know I’m not the best at expressing emotions, but I love you. I’m glad we married. And I would like to stay on your planet.”
Vlad grinned. He tugged her so she fell into his chest. “I am truly blessed by the gods. I love you, my sweet Clara. And where else would you go? This is your home.”
She lifted up to kiss him, not caring that she stood in the middle of a commoner’s home where any of the family could come in and see them. She knew he didn’t understand her meaning, not fully, but she felt no reason to tell him her parents’ plan to have her leave after a year. It wasn’t going to happen. Clara would find a way to change their minds before they sent for her. She would not take Vlad’s children from him. She would not leave. Nothing mattered but the feel of her husband’s arms wrapping around her and the taste of his kiss. Vlad scooped her into his arms, not breaking the contact of their mouths and carried her into the guest room where they slowly made love until duty called them from the bed.
Chapter Fourteen
Clara was granted a ride by one of the ceffyls from the village herd after she explained she was going to tell the man from their projections about the solarflowers. This fact really seemed to excite the creatures, as evidenced by the herd following them from the village to her new castle home.
Clara glanced behind her and sighed. Yes. Still there.
The air warmed the farther away they rode from Mining Village. For the most part, the path was clear, cut through a valley of tall grass. This fact pleased the ceffyls who ate while they walked.
“If we get a land transport we would be able to get to the village quickly to visit them,” Clara said.
“I am pleased you like them, for they are very fond of you.” Vlad smiled. He walked beside her and rested his hand on her thigh. She looked down at the discolored skin. It was still healing and she wondered if it would always be paler than the rest of him.
“Arianwen embraced me and called me a warrior daughter,” she admitted.
Vlad laughed. She loved the sound of that laugh. “A high compliment indeed.”
“Do you think I’m a warrior?” she asked.
“I think you are perfection,” he answered diplomatically. She liked his description much better.
“I want to give Arianwen the material bolts I brought with me if you haven’t done anything with them already. If you have given them to someone else, don’t take the bestowment back.”
“It should have been cleaned and delivered with the rest of your belongings to our home.” Vlad smiled at her. “I think Ari would like the gift very much.”
They neared a forest and moved to go around its edge. A tall cliff appeared and it took her a long moment to realize it was the front entrance to the castle. Its carved stone features hid the home against the side of the mountain. It was surrounded by steep mountains, narrow passes and rocky crags dotted with lush plant life.
“My lord, why have you brought ceffyls?” A man ran out of a large rectangular structure. The concern on his gruff face gave him a harsh countenance. “Has something happened?”
“The herd has taken a liking to my wife,” Vlad said. He reached to help her down. The beast she rode didn’t move but tried to hiss its long tongue at her wrist. She absently pulled away to keep from getting licked.
Cenek examined her mount, feeling along its body. “These are from south of the village. They followed you all the way here?”
“My wife, Lady Clara,” Vlad introduced. “Cenek, ceffyl trainer.”
“Many blessings, my lady,” Cenek said, acknowledging her. “Welcome home.”
The ceffyl again tried to lick her. Cenek shook his head in amazement. “I have never seen the like in all my years.”
“Greetings, Cenek,” Clara said. “The beast would like you to give it solarflowers.”
“I bet she would,” he said, looking as if he had no intention of fulfilling the request.
Loud ceffyl bleats resounded from the building Cenek had come from.
“Problem in the stables?” Vlad asked.
Cenek frowned. “There shouldn’t be.”
“You mean there are more in there?” Clara asked. She hooked her husband’s arm and urged him to escort her inside quickly. “Honor to meet you, Cenek.”
Vlad chuckled as she led him toward the castle entrance.
“You laugh, but I have only now gotten one herd under control,” she scolded him under her breath. Clara heard the beasts trying to follow her and Cenek doing his best to ensure they didn’t charge the castle.
Through the entryway, a series of iron gates were retracted into the stone walls to give free entrance to any who might wander in. Vlad glanced behind at the herd and pulled one of the gates closed. “A precaution.” Though his tone suggested that the idea of ceffyls roaming the halls looking for her amused him greatly.
A soft row of li
ght illuminated the carved hall. The rough texture of the outside gave way to the smooth perfection of angles inside. Had she not walked into the mountain herself, she would have thought it as fine as any manor on her planet—minus the ornate details of course. The front hall split into five directions. Each route looked the same as the next.
“Our home is this way,” Vlad said, pointing to the hall on the far left.
“What is that way?” she asked, gesturing over the other halls.
“Each hall is for a brother and his wife with the center hall leading to the common rooms where we take our meals, entertain guests, socialize, peruse the scrolls or conduct business meetings. The center hall also leads upstairs. As oldest, Bron will move with his wife to the tower rooms, though none of us have gone up there since my adoptive parents died.” He led the way into his hall. “I will show you our home before we greet the others. Try to stay out of the side tunnels. They are a maze designed to trap intruders. After you are given access to the main computer, if you are not able to open a door then turn around, you’re going into a maze.”
“I will have complete access to the home?” Clara asked in surprise. “Everywhere?”
“Of course, you are my wife. I trust you, so will my brothers.”
She smiled and then stopped, pointing back the way they came. Excited, she asked, “Wait. So that means they all will live with us? In this same castle? And have their children here? And your adoptive parents lived here? So I can assume when they grow all of our children will live here as well?”
“Most likely,” he said, urging her to follow by walking once more.
Clara nearly jumped in a show of unladylike enthusiasm. The one thing she’d missed about her home was being surrounded by family, but it looked as if she would get that here. How could she have even thought about leaving Vlad after a year? She wanted a full lifetime with him, more if his gods would allow it. “That’s wonderful news, my lord. I was so worried we’d live as a small family forever. If each wife has at least twenty children, we could populate a home of this size quite nicely and quite honorably.”
Vlad skidded to a stop. Clara ignored his sputtering noises while she kept walking through the hall as it curved even farther to the left, eager to see her home. Reaching an ornate door, she looked for a way inside. There was no handle.
Vlad joined her. He ran his hand over the frame and said, “Open.” The door obeyed.
“This is beautiful,” Clara proclaimed, touching the door frame with the tips of her fingers. “You cannot even see the technology inside.”
“Perhaps you would like to look inside the home, my lady?” Vlad asked. He didn’t give her time to respond as he swept her up into his arms to carry her in. He kissed her neck, barely paying attention to where he was going as he walked down a few steps into the main hall. Clara kicked her feel lightly as his lips tickled her skin. He stopped walking and kissed her harder, sucking gently in a way that made her shiver with anticipation. Then, lifting his head, he said, “My lovely bride, may I present—by all that is sacred!” His grip loosened as he jolted in surprise, nearly dropping her.
Clara managed to catch herself upright before she fell on her backside. She followed his gaze upward.
“What is that?” He didn’t move.
Clara grinned, seeing a very familiar portrait. “My family. My parents must have sent it as a wedding gift.” The large fabric reproduction showcased not only her parents but all of her brothers and sisters. It stretched across the entire side of the main living area, angled from the ceiling so one could easily see it from the floor. The wooden frame had been pieced together like a puzzle to hold the canvas.
“Yes,” Vlad said carefully. His expression was unusually blank. “The king did mention your parents honored us with a large gift. I was so preoccupied with the excitement of marrying you that I forgot he said he was sending it to our home for us.”
She worried at his tone. “You’re disappointed because the proportions are a bit off. I know that each person depicted is smaller than life size, but it is close. I am sure I can request another one, bigger, if you think it is not pleasing as is.”
“No, my sweet, sweet wife, not too small at all. It’s, ah, perfect.” He wrapped his arm about her shoulder and looked up at it, holding her in such a way she couldn’t readily see his face.
She felt a small shiver work over his body and started to ask him about it. “Vlad, your tone is strange—”
“I believe your trunks are upstairs,” he broke in before she could finish. “Perhaps you should make sure everything is in order.”
Clara nodded to do as he suggested. She thought of the space credits and gemstones hidden within her trunks and was slightly amazed she’d forgotten all about them. Open wood steps led up the side wall toward a balcony rail. From above, she could see below until she stepped back into the more private area of the room. A large bed dominated the center of the floor. Polished stone blocks were covered with soft fur rugs. Lights filtered in from above, but the room was still dim. The walls were barren but for a few tapestries and empty sconces. Large floor pillows centered around a triangular fireplace.
It took a moment, but she located an area assessable through an opening in the far wall. From a distance, it gave the illusion of being solid stone, but when she stepped close she found an entire dressing section through an opening. Her trunks were there, as were the bolts of material. She opened the first and found the wig she wore on her wedding day. After the mine, that day felt so long ago. The faint smell of perfume wafted over her when she lifted the heavy piece to set it on the floor. Her smile faded.
Would her parents understand her decision to stay? Would they respect it? Or would they try to force her to return to Redde to have her children? Her opinion of Qurilixen had changed, but how she saw her husband would not be how her parents saw him. She knew the Draig to be honorable, happy people. Her parents would think them overly emotional barbarians, primitives whose only redeeming quality is that they produced male children. But what good were male children to the great lord and lady if they could not raise them in a Redding home?
Stepping back, she held perfectly still and stared at the towering hair. Clara wanted to stay. She knew that unquestioningly. But she also knew when her parents wanted something done, they got it done.
Clara turned her back on the wig, pushing her fears down. Vlad wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She trusted in that. Though her parents might try, this was her home and she wasn’t going anywhere.
* * *
Vlad tried not to look up at the many eyes staring down at him. The portrait completely dominated the space, giving the feeling of a stoically judging audience inspecting his every move. Now, he wasn’t exactly prudish by any sense of the word, but he had a hard time imagining doing the things he wanted to do to his wife with that inexpressive gathering watching on. The banner of his adopted family’s dragon standard had been moved to accommodate the piece and now hung over his front door. He could just imagine the laughs as the servants put the monstrosity of a wedding gift up.
Vlad vowed never, ever, ever—for the happiness of his marriage—dare to call the portrait a monstrosity out loud. His wife loved it so he would learn to live with it. He glanced up. Every creepy, unamused inch of it.
Though it had been a while since he’d stayed in the fortress home, he wasn’t surprised to see it had been cleaned. Without looking, he knew the bathing room to the right would be stocked with soaps and drying linens. His office would be lined with scrolls he rarely acknowledged and reports Mirek liked to write for his brothers—longwinded things that bespoke of his ambassadorial missions in agonizing detail. Too bad Mirek hadn’t found a bride at the ceremony. Perhaps then the man would have less time for reporting. Undoubtedly, a new stack rested there untouched since the servants had set them down.
To the right, his kitchen would have basics, including a food simulator he didn’t like. As soon as the servants learned he was at home, the
y would make sure to stock his home with perishables. Hidden inside the wall would be his liquor stash. Actually a drink didn’t sound so bad at the moment.
“Vlad?”
He stopped mid-action and turned to the door as it slid open. His brother Alek stepped inside. “Cenek said you had arrived. Now, would you like to explain why we have double the amount of ceffyls milling about outside? They will overrun the pastures within a year if we keep them all here.”
“Actually, not at the moment,” he answered.
Alek stopped and looked up. He visibly retracted. “What in the name of—?”
“My wife’s family,” Vlad inserted before his brother could say anything insulting. He pointed to his room where Clara was, letting Alek know they were not alone. Loudly, he added, “Isn’t it a lovely gift.”
Alek made a weak noise and nodded his head. Just as loud, but not very convincingly, he said, “Yes, lovely.”
“I hear you and Bron have found wives,” Vlad said. “Many blessings, brother.”
Alek’s face softened and Vlad could tell his brother had been blessed with a well-made match. “Mirek too. There was some confusion as to his luck because she was not in the traditional receiving line. Actually, his luck now is…”
“Is she…?” Vlad prompted, willing Alek to continue his comment about Mirek’s bride.
Alek looked up and gave a small frown. With his hands, he gestured first to the painting and then above his head to indicate all the women had cone-shaped heads in the portrait. He pointed up to Vlad’s room. Silently, he mouthed, “Is she…?”
Vlad grimaced and shook his head in denial.
Alek gave a dramatic, soundless sigh of relief. Vlad very happily punched him. Hard.
Alek laughed. “I deserve that.”
“What about Mirek’s luck?” Vlad prompted, trying to draw his brother’s gaze off the portrait.
The Reluctant Lord (Dragon Lords) Page 16
