Authors: Jane Atchley
Tags: #fantasy, #series, #romance and adventure, #romance action adventure, #series magic, #fantasy about a soldier, #spicy love story
"There you go. That's better." Kree sighed.
"A man would do a lot for a smile like yours."
Kayseri touched his cheek. He turned his
head into her palm pressing another kiss there. "So will you help
Eldren?"
The spell was broken. "No."
He sounded like a man with a troublesome
itch he could not scratch. Where had her tender lover gone?
After a quick supper of rabbit and wild
greens, they settled down around a small campfire. Kree rested
against his saddle with his beautiful gryphon knives near to hand.
Before long, his soft snoring filled the camp, and Kayseri’s
thoughts turned to Eldren’s missing princess. Why hadn't he told
Kree about Sandahl? He would have agreed at once if he’d known
there was a child involved. But Eldren was a prince of Thallasi. He
must have his reasons. Whatever they were, Kayseri could not allow
Kree to imprison a prince of Thallasi, and definitely not a prince
of Thallasi she had promised to help. Clearly, Eldren needed their
help. In his condition, he would never rescue his princess. There
must be a way to change Kree’s mind. She bounced a fingertip on her
lower lip considering her options. With just the right touch of
mischief, maybe she could...Kayseri focused on Eldren and reached
out with her mind.
"Eldren?"
Eldren’s near colorless eyes snapped open.
"Kayseri?"
Kayseri clapped her hands over her ears.
Eldren’s mind-speech sounded as hundreds of bells inside her skull.
She and her brothers used Wilderkin telepathy to conspire against
their human father, but she had never used it outside the family.
Nothing had prepared her for the force of a true elf. Wincing and
pressing her fingertips to her temples, she sent,
"It
hurts."
His laughter sounded in her mind as wind
chimes.
"My apologies. I shall whisper."
Better.
"My Captain says he's putting you
in the stockade. We have to get away."
Still weak from his injuries, the elf lord
struggled to his feet. He glanced quickly at the sleeping captain.
"Give me your horse. The man will think I stole it."
Kayseri shook her head.
"I’m going with
you."
Again, the prince glanced at Kree.
"The
man will follow."
"You bet he will."
She picked up her
saddle pack and moved toward the horses.
"What he won’t do is
send a squadron after me like he will if you steal my horse. He
knows you lied to him. He told me so. And let's face it, you need
his help."
"The man does not want to help me."
"He'll change his mind."
She hoped.
Kayseri swung onto Mistral’s back and held out her hand to help
Eldren mount behind her.
Eldren hesitated.
"I will take his
horse."
"No!"
Kayseri’s made a helpless
gesture.
"We can’t take Storm. Storm is the last gift he had
from his father. He'd never forgive me."
Eldren pulled himself up behind Kayseri
hissing his disapproval. With a last regret-filled glance at her
sleeping love, Kayseri flicked mischief into Storm. As the stallion
wandered away, she chewed her lower lip, suddenly uncertain. He'd
be furious. Forgive her? She'd be lucky if he didn't kill her.
Chapter Four
Pixies and horses don't mix. Damn the girl!
Kree stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew producing a shrill
whistle. This time he got results. Storm sauntered into the
clearing. The horse nuzzled Kree's ear, looking none the worse for
having spent a pixilated night. Damn the girl.
Kree was glad he was alone because he wanted
to put his fist through something. Preferably a prince of Thallasi,
but just about anything would do. He cursed in a soft steady stream
as he saddled Storm. She had picked the elf over him, and he was
hurt. He was enraged. He was...all right face it, he was jealous.
If anything, anything at all, happened to Kayseri, he promised
himself, prince or no prince, he would hang that lying elf up by
his balls. And the gods help any fool who got in the way. As for
Kayseri, if she insisted on behaving like a child, he’d treat her
like a child. He’d give her such a hiding it would be a long time
before she sat a horse again let alone run off on one.
Goddess damn the girl.
It would take an hour to get back to Qets,
and at least another half hour to pack his kit and brief his
troopers. Kayseri and the elf would have a respectable head start
by then. He toyed with the notion of provisioning along the way and
discarding it. He could and often did disappear for a single night,
but disappearing for two or three days would cause full-scale panic
at his fort. Oh, and then there was Kayseri’s father to consider.
What in the nine hells was he going to tell Lathan Bruin?
Holy crow, Lath, I am as sorry as I can
be about this, but your daughter ran off with an elf, who I think
is in a lot of trouble. Only I don’t know what kind of trouble
because he’s a lying pointy-eared goat like they all are. Oh, by
the way, maybe he’s the rogue magic user the Ladies are interested
in finding.
Not pretty. Good thing he had a whole hour to work
on his explanation. Maybe he’d go with, "Do you remember telling me
that pixies and horses don’t mix? Turns out I should have
listened."
Kree pushed his aging charger as much as he
dared reaching Qets in just under an hour. The sun was full up,
reflecting cheerfully on the garrison’s blue tiled roofs. The sight
of them brassed him off, he was not in the mood for cheerful. Most
of the cadets were already hard at their chores. Two of his boys
groomed and exercised his horses in the marshalling yard as he
thundered past scattering a flock of speckled chickens in a hundred
directions.
He vaulted from the saddle with Storm at a
canter, a dangerous, impressive dismount. The very same dismount
done with more daring than skill had caused the accident that had
injured his larynx. At the time, he'd thought it would end his
military career, but it turned out having a soft voice forced
people to listen to him.
His cadets ran to attend him, and having
lost two hundred eight-five pound of rider, Storm slowed to a walk
stopping a few feet away. The captain was already halfway to the
garrison by the time the boys caught up.
"Nolie, I'll see my officers in the ready
room in fifteen minutes. Fetch them."
"Yes, My Captain." The young cadet sprinted
away.
"Davi, get Storm cooled down and fed. Have
the stable master saddle Sirocco. I’ll need three days’ rations for
four and feed for four horses. Have it ready within the half
hour."
He took the stairs two at a time. One floor
below, he heard Nolie banging on doors and hollering, "Captain's
ready room. Fifteen minutes." He also heard the curses following
each piercing soprano announcement.
Kicking open the door to his office, Kree
stopped in his tracks. Lathan Bruin sat behind the desk in Kree's
oversized leather chair, his feet propped upon the desk, casually
spinning the empty whisky bottle with one hand.
"Don’t start in on me, Lathan, because I’m
not having a good morning." Lathan followed him into his private
quarters and leaned against the doorframe while Kree stripped to
the waist to wash up. "You must know what happened or you wouldn’t
be here." He lathered his face to shave.
"Just for grins, let’s say I don't know my
daughter kicked you to the ditch and ran off with an elf."
Pulling his nose to one side, Kree drew the
razor along his cheek. "She did not kick me to the ditch." Why the
hell was he defending himself? He flicked soap into the basin. "She
did, however, run off with an elf."
Lathan’s lips twitched.
"Don’t make me kill you."
"My daughter has changed some, wouldn’t you
say?"
"Changed? Your daughter is a Goddess-damned
catastrophe."
"Maybe, but she is a catastrophe riding fast
horse. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Kree gestured with the razor. "Do you want
me to admit the mare was a mistake? Fine. I made a mistake. Don’t
start."
Lathan held up his hands in surrender.
"While you have a razor in your hand? Never. I helped build your
reputation with edge weapons."
Kree noticed Lathan’s kit bag on the floor
by the door. "I see you're packed. That’ll save us some time."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m bound for
Othoni. They have plague there, fifty souls dead most of them
children. My God sends me. I am trusting Kayseri safe return to
you, but my daughter is full of mischief where you are concerned so
take someone with you. Trust me on this. I've been married to a
pixie for years; I am an expert on mischief."
The captain blew out a breath, exasperated.
"I’m taking Chana. The woman can track a hawk through the clouds,
and she’ll make a suitable chaperone."
"Good choice." Lathan opened Kree’s
clothespress. "I'll help you pack. What do you need?"
"Uniform. Clean underwear. Socks."
"Chain mail?"
The question in Lathan’s voice caused Kree
to glance at his friend. "I don’t expect the elf to fight me for
her, Lathan, but if he does, he’ll use magic. Chain mail isn't
worth dirt against magic. Fact is dirt’s better. I can throw it in
his eyes." He reached over the smaller man’s shoulder to grab a
sleeveless buckskin tunic and saw Lathan’s eyes focus on the lovers
knot still around his neck.
"Please tell me my daughter didn't give you
that thing."
The captain shrugged.
"And you accepted it?"
Kree felt heat rush to his face. It made him
feel foolish and that made him angry. "What did you expect me to
do? Spit in her eye. I'll return it as soon as I can do it without
hurting her feelings."
"Do you really think you can do that? My
daughter has loved you since she was a child."
"That is not true. We’re friends who share
the same birthday," Kree said while Lathan stared at him as if he'd
lost his mind. All right, it was true. "I’ll think of
something."
Lathan sighed. "Chana is right. You are an
idiot."
"I try not to be." Kree jerked the lovers
knot over his head breaking the cord in the process and tossed the
offending object on top of the pile of clothing. "Namar's bloody
tears. Why did you bring her home anyway? I thought you wanted
Katie to have...how did you put it...the advantages of Elhar."
Against his will, a hint of bitterness crept into his voice. "Or
maybe it was just the advantages of Thallasi you wanted? Think
about it man. Do you really want Katie bound nice and tight to some
pointy-eared Thallasi who will strangle her spirit by his very
nature? "
"Whereas you wouldn't...strangle her
spirit?"
Kree glared. "This is not about me."
Lathan rolled Kree's clothing into tight
bundle lovers knot and all and stuffed it into a worn leather pack
before stretching out on the bed while Kree turn himself into a
six-foot seven walking arsenal.
"My children are mixed blood, Kree. To
Wilderkin, they’re human. To humans, they’re Wilderkin. I just want
my daughter to be happy. You can you understand that can't
you?"
Kree’s fiery temper died to a smolder. "I’m
an idiot. Draw me a picture."
"Like hell you are. You know history,
geography, music, and warfare. You speak five languages. For the
True God's sake, you draw topographical maps. Who does that? Don’t
you realize indulging Katie’s fantasy about you is pure
foolishness? Worse. It’s cruel." Kree moved his shoulders again to
adjust his weapons-harness not in reply. "Accepting her lovers
knot, letting her believe she has a chance with you...it’s not like
you." Lathan was relentless. "Unless she does? How do you feel
about my daughter?"
"Frustrated." Kree blew out a long breath,
gave a low chuckle. "Confused." When he glanced up and met Lathan’s
gaze, all his white-hot anger had burned away. He shrugged.
"Pixilated?" Lathan offered. "Think of
something fast my friend. I want my daughter to be happy."
"Yeah, I got that the first time."
***
The assembled men and women rose when Kree
entered the ready room. They always did. He hated it. "Take your
seats gentlemen. Ladies.
"Some elves got themselves into trouble out
on the north river road last night. Two of the attackers and one
elf died. I had planned to bring the other elf in
for...safekeeping, but he escaped. You know how personally I take
it when folks refuse my hospitality."
Everyone laughed.
"The men wore Temple braids. Bird, take a
detail out there. Hustle the bodies over to the Temple Koppras. See
if the Matriarch knows them. I don’t know what to tell you to do
with the elf. He is...unusual. For now, I think the fewer people
who see him the better. Handle it as you think best. The carriage."
A slow grin spread across his face. "We’ll find a use for it.
"Duncan. I don’t like thinking an armed
force of say, fifteen or so, can waltz through our protectorate
without our knowledge. Set up twenty-four hour patrols. We are
supposed to protect folks around here."
"The pixie woods too, sir?"
"It was part of the protectorate last time I
looked."
"Mister Bruin could police it more
efficiently, sir."
The other officers met Duncan’s statement
with snickers, and it gratified Kree that his first lieutenant took
their jibes in his customary courteous fashion. First Lieutenant
Aimery Duncan was in his early twenties. The men tagged him
Shug
either because his family held the largest cane
plantations in the Addir Islands or because of his stunning good
looks. Kree suspected the latter. The man was genetically blessed
or cursed depending on point of view. Having chosen the military
life, Kree felt sure Duncan saw his pure physical beauty as a
curse. Fortunately, for Duncan, the man was also a tactical genius
and a black-powder savant.