Her abandon frayed his discipline. He wanted to give her what she asked for, give her everything and take all she offered.
Desire clouded reason and responsibility.
She slid her hands under his shirt, tracing the heavy muscles of his chest as her nails grazed his flesh.
His whole body responded to her touch.
As he carried her toward the stairs, a knock on the door startled them both.
Marcus lifted his lips from hers as he glanced out the window. The sun touched the horizon and emitted enough light to offer some protection, but the shadows lengthened by the moment.
He set her down and reached for his shield.
She blinked, caught her breath, and shivered.
“I need to see who’s at the door.” His voice raspy even to his own ears.
“It might be a trap.”
“Or a villager not listening to our advice to get indoors before nightfall.”
She nodded and stepped back as he lifted his shield and drew his sword.
Marcus edged past her to the servant’s door, threw it open, and stood ready to strike down who or whatever was there.
Emptiness greeted him and a faint graveyard stench he’d smelled too often in the lich’s lands.
Marcus closed and bolted the door.
“Something was there, but I don’t think it was Mokkar Calmont.” Fear had replaced passion, and Brelynn shivered again.
“Korvar.”
“I can’t be sure.” The tremble in her voice told him more than her words.
He sheathed his sword and slid an arm around her.
She pressed closer. “Could talking about him, telling you what happened, reveal our location?”
“I’ve never seen magic work that way.”
She shivered again, and Marcus lifted her into his arms and carried her to the guest room they’d shared the previous night. Settling Brelynn on the bed, he lay down beside her and held her against him.
“He knows I’m here.” Her voice hitched.
“I will keep you safe.” Marcus drew her closer to him.
“If my words didn’t bring him to us, he probably learned I was here through the dead necromancer’s eyes. Arch-Grimveldt Korvar has a lot of tricks. None of them neat.”
Marcus kissed to her temple. “He’s still not getting you.”
She let out a breath, and despite her fear, a hint of a smile teased her lips. “My Knight of Valor. Thank you. For everything.”
Marcus held her close, comforting her as she drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair as he silently berated himself.
He’d almost ignored his vows and taken advantage of her. Abused his position as her protector.
Only Korvar’s warning had stopped him.
And that’s what it was. A warning. Which meant Korvar hadn’t given up yet.
That surprised Marcus and worried him.
Whatever Korvar wanted her for had to be big for him to still be after her. And the strange ritual Brelynn had described explained it. It would take time for Korvar to subject another to such horrors, time the necromancer may not have.
If Korvar still sought her, was willing to expend so much magic to find her even now, Marcus feared she’d still be in danger from the necromancer in Aerius.
Unless he continued to protect her.
But he wanted more, so much more. He wanted to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her. To see what all could be between them.
But that couldn’t be as long as he was her protector.
It was hard to do the right thing and be the protector Brelynn deserved. Not because protecting her seemed impossible, like slaying the lich had, but because it went against everything he wanted.
So this was temptation.
Marcus finally understood what Raymond must have faced.
Maybe the only reasons Marcus himself had avoided succumbing to temptation for so long because he’d never been so thoroughly tested.
He was heading down a dangerous path, one he’d been warned about since boyhood. Oskelesian mages, particularly sorceresses, used their wiles to trick Knights into turning their backs on their vows.
His father had warned him. His uncle had warned him. The Dragon Church had warned him.
He’d seen it happen to Raymond.
Yet Brelynn was the one that had insisted they uphold his vows to fight evil, and she had risked her life to break the necromancer’s spell on Three Rivers. She’d helped him uncover Silas’s smuggling operation, and she’d drunk a whole glass of holy water without ill effect.
Knights didn’t lie, and he’d meant it when he’d told her that Korvar and Calmont hadn’t been able to destroy the light within her.
That light burned brightly.
Perhaps because it had been smothered in darkness for so long.
Or perhaps it always had, and that’s why Korvar needed her soul.
But that didn’t help him understand why he ached for her.
Marcus hoped his immunity to magic had failed, and it was a spell. Spells could be reversed. Spells could be broken.
Hearts touched by the Twins had led to the fall of too many Knights.
Chapter 38
Brelynn watched Sir Marcus throw himself into reestablishing order. He dealt with squabbles between farmers, inaugurated a new priest, and arranged for proper burials for those that had died at Three Rivers.
Sir Marcus was strong, confident, and in his element.
He was Tamryn’s Lich Slayer.
After a time, Brelynn raided Silas’s well-stocked bar and handed a generous glass to an elderly man who was also watching the happenings.
He sipped it and grinned. “Been a long time since I’ve had something this good.”
She smiled as she glanced across the room at Sir Marcus. “Seems like everyone knows of him.”
The man cackled. “Sir Marcus Valerian the Great Lich Slayer. Yup, everyone knows him.”
“I haven’t heard the tale of how he killed a lich.”
“How could you not have heard the story? You’re traveling with him, aren’t you?”
“He’s rather modest,” Brelynn admitted. “Doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Must’ve been on the other side of the world not to have heard the tale.”
“Pretty close,” she agreed.
“With you wetting my pipes so good, I should thank you by telling it to you.”
“I’d like that very much.”
Brelynn led the man him over to a sofa. She settled in beside him and discovered he was a fabulous story teller. A small crowd gathered around them, listening and adding details.
Sir Marcus walked past with a young boy on his shoulders. His gaze met Brelynn’s as the crowd clapped for him.
Marcus lowered his eyes, recited a humble prayer, then continued on his way with the boy still perched on his shoulders.
The sight of him with the child was incongruous with the story the old man told. It would have been more fitting for Sir Marcus to burst into the room sword flaming and shield drawn.
That was their version of him.
But seeing him with the little boy felt right.
Perhaps that’s what Marcus was missing, why he hadn’t yet settled into retirement. He wanted, needed, a family. To anchor him. To help him reconnect. To love him for who he was.
And she was sure there was a long line of beautiful Tamarian ladies that would be ecstatic to give him such a family.
Her heart squeezed, but there was no point in wishing she was something she wasn’t. At least he’d forgiven her for all she’d been involved with in Oskelez.
Marcus knew her darkest secrets, and he hadn’t turned from her. Hadn’t been reviled. Instead, he’d listened and comforted her.
Her heart swelled.
By the gods, she loved him. Losing him when they got to Aerius would hurt far more than anything Arch-Grimveldt Korvar had ever done to her.
Shutting her eyes, Brelynn pushed the thoughts away and listen
ed to the rest of the story.
At the end, she decided little other than the basic narrative was the same as what Sir Marcus had told her. He’d slain a lich and the lich’s generals.
The rest sounded like a different story. His companions were absent from the tale the old man told, as was the fear and homesickness.
It was an amazing tale, but it wasn’t Sir Marcus’s.
It was what the people of Tamryn wanted to hear, not the reality of the sacrifices it had taken to destroy the lich.
Brelynn refilled the old man’s glass. “You’re quite the story teller. Do you know the legend of the Lich Slayer’s father? Been a long time since I’ve heard it.”
“Doesn’t have as happy of an ending,” the old man warned.
Sir Marcus’s story hadn’t “ended” either, but she bit back the comment. “I’d still like to hear it.”
He grinned. “A pretty lady wanting me to tell her a story, even a sad one? I can’t say no to that.”
Brelynn listened to the account of Sir Reginald Valerian, and while the events were different, it was much the same as Sir Marcus’s. Sir Reginald had faced almost insurmountable odds, and he had triumphed.
Except the hero hadn’t come home.
The gods had demanded the ultimate sacrifice, and Sir Reginald had given it for the Tamarian people.
The story forgot to mention that Sir Reginald had left behind a wife and child, a child that would grow up to be a hero without his father.
Marcus deserved so much better.
Brelynn slipped away from the crowd as the older man started another story, and she walked outside to find Sir Marcus behind the main house with five boys of varying ages. He was helping them with their swordsmanship, but the smiles and laughter spoke more of fun than war.
“Your stance needs to be wider, lower to the ground.” Sir Marcus nudged one boy and sent him sprawling into the grass. “It takes a lot of strength and practice, but you can do it.”
“Even in armor?” another boy asked.
“Especially in armor,” Sir Marcus said as he demonstrated the stance in his. “Armor is heavy, particularly the armor protecting your chest and back. It makes you easier to knock over and harder for you to get back up.”
Sir Marcus glanced up and caught her leaning against the doorway watching. He motioned to Brelynn, and the five boys turned their heads in unison.
“She is one of the toughest opponents you’ll ever face.”
The boys snickered, and Brelynn raised an eyebrow.
“She’s doesn’t look very strong,” one boy said.
“She doesn’t have a sword,” said another. “Or any armor.”
“She’s a mage,” Sir Marcus explained.
The boys didn’t look impressed.
“She can hit you with a spell from across a battlefield. She doesn’t need armor because she’ll make sure you get nowhere near her. Show them,” he said and nodded to Brelynn.
Conjuring a tiny electric ball, she shot it at the boy who’d noted she had no sword. He yelped in surprise and dropped his training stick.
“That,” Marcus said, “is a tiny fraction of what a mage can do. They have power over the elements, power over your senses, and even power over life and death. They are valuable allies and deadly foes.”
“Do they have a weakness?” the boy still stinging from the electric shock asked.
“Proximity,” Brelynn said as she ducked behind Sir Marcus. “We’re not immune to our own spells, so mages have to destroy you before you can get close enough to hurt us.”
One of the boy’s brows knit together. “In a fight, you’d need to get rid of any mages first then.”
“If you can get to us. When we have strong, smart allies that protect us,” she said as she waved at him from behind Sir Marcus, “destroying us becomes very difficult.”
“Did you help him slay the lich?” one boy asked.
“No, but another mage did,” Brelynn said. “A lich is so powerful and so feared because of their command of magic.”
The boys’ eyes widened.
“Would you help me work with them?” Sir Marcus asked.
She could see how important it was to him and nodded.
Sir Marcus set up one boy to protect her and arranged the other three against them. Brelynn changed her magic spell so instead of zapping them with lightening it pushed them back and left a splotch of bright red on their clothes. Sir Marcus took the fifth boy off to the side and worked on technique with him.
After a time, Sir Marcus changed their assignments, and he worked with the next boy.
As they practiced, a farm girl carrying a pie sauntered towards them. Her hair was the color of warm chocolate, and she’d tied it up to expose her neck and ample bosom. She had dark eyes fringed with thick lashes and full pouty lips Brelynn was sure she’d darkened with berry juice.
The farm girl was trouble, and she was heading toward Marcus.
Jealousy bit Brelynn hard, the sting of it surprising her as her magic snapped at her control.
She refocused on the training exercises with the boys. The boys, however, were distracted, and Brelynn used the opportunity to pepper them in red splotches.
“I see why a succubus is so effective against Knights,” she murmured as she summoned the tiny ball of electricity again.
The boys were back at attention.
“I thought you might be hungry,” the farm girl purred as she handed Marcus the pie.
He squirmed, but he accepted the gift.
The girl continued to flirt with him, giggling and batting her pretty eyes.
Brelynn had to fight the urge to throw a much larger electric ball at the farm girl. Brelynn tried to focus on the boys’ training, but she couldn’t help listening to the girl prattle on about nothing as Marcus smiled and nodded, still holding the pie.
Jealousy, sharp and spiteful, nipped at her and surged through her magic.
Anger followed, anger at Marcus for having kissed her the previous night and anger at herself for feeling anything for a Knight of Valor.
Tall, blonde and shiny wasn’t worth the emotion she’d wasted on him, and if he wanted to bed this farm girl, Brelynn wished he’d just get on with it and save them all the spectacle.
Her magic strengthened, howling and snapping until a tendril broke free. Before Brelynn could catch it, it shot towards the farm girl, and her cloak started to smoke.
Brelynn bit her lip and yanked the magic back to her as more tried to escape her control. She had to do something, or her next slip might torch the girl.
Wrapping her hand around a gold ring in her pocket, Brelynn sucked in a deep breath and slammed a spike of anger fueled magic into it.
The boys all stepped away from her, and the farm girl glanced up as a sliver of magic escaped the ring and blew past them as a hot breeze.
“You okay, Brelynn?” Sir Marcus asked.
He turned to her, and she recognized his discomfort. His expression all but begged her not to be okay, to need his help so he’d have an escape.
All his training to fight evil hadn’t prepared him for amorous ladies.
He wasn’t flirting, she realized, he was drowning.
Taking the pie from him, Brelynn stepped between Sir Marcus and the farm girl.
“Thanks for this. I’m sure the boys are hungry from all their practicing.” Brelynn snapped her fingers, and five plates appeared. The pie cut itself into five perfect pieces that floated onto the plates, and the plates then floated over to the boys.
“Thanks!” the boys said between mouthfuls of pie.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Brelynn smiled at the girl.
“Cara,” the girl answered as she watched the boys devour her pie.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cara, but if you’ll excuse us, there are a couple of things we need to see to before dark.”
“Before dark?” Cara repeated.
“Haven’t you been listening to Sir Marcus’s warnings
?” Brelynn snapped as a hot wind snarled Cara’s hair. “There may be some of Silas’s allies nearby. Get inside before dark, keep your doors and windows locked, and don’t let anyone in you don’t know.”
Cara nodded and stared as Brelynn escorted Sir Marcus back inside the house.
“Another good reason to have a mage on your side,” Sir Marcus murmured. “You never know what danger they’ll save you from.”
The boys grinned and ate their pie.
Chapter 39
Marcus followed his own instructions and sent everyone home a couple of hours before sunset. As he came up the stairs, he caught a bed floating from one room to another, sheets and blankets trailing along behind it. It was an amusing scene, especially when the washbasin scampered across the hall.
“You’ve been busy,” he commented.
Brelynn cursed under her breath. “I hadn’t expected you to finish so soon, and I forgot how much stuff Silas crammed into every room.”
“Looks like you’re moving a bed into a closet.”
“An interior room,” she corrected. “It has an entrance into the hall and another to an adjoining room.”
“Still think it’s a closet even if I also think it’s a good idea.” Marcus glanced out the window at the setting sun. “You think they’ll strike tonight.”
“They warned us last night, though I’m not sure why. If they know or even suspect this Tribunal is coming, they’ll strike before it gets here.” She paused and glanced towards the sun. “Do you think the locals will be okay?”
“They’re after us, not them,” Marcus said. “This far into Tamryn lands, Calmont will have to tread with care.”
He couldn’t promise her the locals would be okay. Vampires were capricious, and Knights didn’t lie.
“I need to bring Lucky in the house.”
“Already have,” Marcus said. “He’s downstairs eating now.”
“Thanks. Mutt means a lot to me.”
“I know he does, and I’m sure he’ll come up and join us when he’s done eating.”
“I want a bath,” Brelynn said as she conjured hot water into the wash tub. “You sure you want to stay?”
“Your protector, remember?”
Knight of Valor: Knights of Valor Page 16
