A Knight of Honor (13 page)

His gaze shifted back to her as she lay hidden between the rock and the pine tree.
 
He could see one of her boots sticking out of the shelter.
 
He couldn’t wake her.
 
She needed all her strength to deal with the future.
 
He would let her sleep, let her have a moment’s peace.

He shifted his royal blue eyes to the path that stretched before them.
 
The path that led to Castle Donovan.

***

Taylor had barely opened her eyes when everything came back to her in a rush of images.
 
Jared’s body splintering the door.
 
Black-clad men swinging deadly blades at her.
 
Slane diving at her, taking them both through the window.
 
Slane holding her in his arms, comforting her.
 
She sat up quickly, scanning the area, but Slane was nowhere to be seen.

She eased herself from the cover of the pine tree and the rock, stepping into the sunlight, squinting at the brightness.
 
The sun was almost directly over her head.
 
She lifted her eyes to regard the blazing orb with astonishment.
 
She had never slept this long!
 
Her gaze swept the clearing, finally coming upon Slane, who was strolling back to her, his hands cupped before him.

For a moment, she was taken aback.
 
He looked like some ancient god, his blond hair waving over his shoulders, his bronzed face kissed by the sun.
 
His blue eyes sparkled like treasured gems.
 
But it wasn’t their sparkling brilliance that caught her attention; it was the way he was looking at her, with a guarded reserve.

Taylor climbed to her feet.
 
She eyed the berries he was holding in his cupped hands, then glanced back up at him.

He popped a berry into his mouth.
 
“Are you rested?
 
Because I think we should be moving on.”
 
He held out a handful of berries.

Taylor plucked a berry from the top of the pile.
 
She studied it absently, not really seeing it.
 
Moving on.
 
To Sullivan Castle.
 
She didn’t want to see her father again.
 
Seeing him wasn’t going to change the past.
 
Seeing him wasn’t going to bring her mother back.
 
“Slane, I think you should know that I have no intention of returning to Sullivan Castle.”

She lifted her eyes in time to see disapproval cross his face.
 
“That decision is yours to make.
 
But I’m sure there are other mercenaries –”

She held up her free hand.
 
“I know.
 
You’ve told me.
 
But what you haven’t told me is who those black knights were.”

Slane took a deep breath and lowered his hands.
 
“They’re Corydon’s men.
 
Your father and my brother, Richard, have banded together to fight Corydon.
 
He’s been threatening to take over their lands.”

“Corydon?”

“Five years ago, he took over the lands west of Sullivan.
 
Corydon thinks that with your father growing old he poses no great threat.
 
He is just biding his time.”

“And how is my return supposed to help?”

“The knights at Sullivan Castle have been growing restless.
 
They think that with no heir to rally behind, if your father dies, Sullivan Castle will fall easily to Corydon.
 
Many of them have left already.
 
Your father needs an heir.”

She popped the berry into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
 
“And what’s your brother’s story?”

“Richard has squandered the treasury, depleting his funds.
 
Castle Donovan is precariously defended.
 
He doesn’t have long.
 
He’ll be out of gold to pay his knights in two months’ time.”

“So my father has the gold, and Richard has the knights.”

“Your father asked for Richard’s help to locate you.”

“And in exchange, Richard gets the gold,” Taylor added knowingly.
 
“So that’s where you come in.”

Slane nodded.
 
“Richard asked me to find you.
 
And he sought the help of a score of mercenaries as well.
 
He’s quite insistent on the matter.”

Taylor sighed and stared up at the sky for a long moment.

“Taylor, there is much more at stake here than you realize,” Slane said gently.
 
“The lives and well-being of two kingdoms, of hundreds of families, depend on your returning to Sullivan Castle.”

“Really?” she gasped, mockingly.
 
His eyes were so blue, so damned...
 
pure.
 
“So what?”

She saw shock in his widening eyes, in his open mouth.
 
She felt a surge of satisfaction.
 
Then his lips closed with disbelief.
 
“Maybe you didn’t hear me correctly,” Slane said.

“I heard,” she said.
 
“I just don’t care.
 
Where were they when my mother was burning eight years ago?
 
Where were they when Jared was being killed?”
 
She shook her head.
 
“I just don’t care.”

“But—“

“No buts.
 
I don’t give a rat’s ass about the poor peasants who have worked hard all their life.
 
Haven’t we all?”

Slane studied her for a moment.
 
“Why don’t you come with me to Castle Donovan?
 
You’ll be safe from Corydon, and it will give you time to decide what you want to do.”

Taylor already knew what her decision was.
 
She would never go back to her father.
 
Never.
 
But the lure of a warm bed and hot meals was too much for a starving mercenary to pass up.
 
Besides, it would give her time to think about her own plans for the future.
 
“We’ll see,” she mused.

Slane nodded and started walking north.

Taylor joined him.
 
“Are we going to walk the whole way there?”

“Until I can secure us some horses,” Slane replied.
 
He held out his handful of berries to her.

This time, Taylor scooped up a handful of her own.

***

After moving briskly for more than half a day without rest, they came to a clearing lined by a thick wall of trees on one side and a river on the other.
 
“We’ll stop here,” Slane announced, glancing at the setting sun.

Taylor shrugged and moved to the river to clean off the day’s grime and sweat.

Slane watched her for a long moment.
 
She hadn’t braided her hair today, instead choosing to let it hang down in long waves.
 
He had caught her running her hands through the luxurious locks several times throughout the day and had to smile to himself.
 
He was glad she had not braided it.
 
He liked the way the sunlight reflected off the blue-black highlights in her hair.
 
Once, he even imagined what it might feel like.
 
He had never paid such attention to Elizabeth’s brown hair.
 
Of course, he rarely even saw her hair.
 
She always kept it up, hidden beneath one of those horrible coifs or ridiculous headdresses.

He strolled to the middle of the clearing and removed his tunic.
 
A good hour of practice is what I need, he thought to himself.
 
Just me and my blade.
 
He liked to work shirtless, with the warm sun bathing his skin.
 
He always felt strong in the bright sunlight, strong and energized.
 
He removed his sword from its sheath and stared for a moment at his reflection in the polished metal.

A splash caught his attention and he raised his eyes.
 
Taylor was on her knees by the river’s edge, her small, shapely bottom pointing directly at him.

A flush of desire exploded through him.
 
It was so startling and so unexpected that he had to turn his back lest she see how she affected him.
 
He turned the sword over in his hand.
 
Where had that come from? he wondered, fighting down the surge of passion that simmered in his blood.
 
He took a deep breath, but it was still a long moment before his desire faded to a more controllable impulse.

He swung the heavy sword with two hands, the muscles in his shoulders and forearms straining during the practiced motion.
 
He moved his arms in a large circle, slowly drawing the blade over his head.
 
He stood that way for a long moment, the sword raised above his head, the fading sunlight glinting like fire from his blade.
 
His golden hair cascaded over his shoulders to touch the midpoint of his back.

He concentrated on stretching his muscles, training them to be ready for action at a moment’s notice, to keep them honed for battle.
 
And they were.
 
He was a warrior, a knight.
 
He had faced and defeated every foe he had stood against.

He lowered the weapon slowly across the other side of his body until the blade was pointing toward the river.
 
And then he froze.

A pair of hunter green eyes stared at him.

Taylor sat with one knee drawn up to her chest, watching him.
 
But there was no sarcastic gaze chiseled across her face.
 
No, it was not the disrespectful, mocking stare he was used to.
 
She turned away then, a long, dark strand of her hair falling across her breast.

For just a moment, he could have sworn she had been gazing at him admiringly, like all the ladies at court did.
 
There had been surprise in those eyes.
 
But he must have imagined it.
 
Because Taylor was unlike any woman he had encountered before.
 
She was different.

He took a step toward her.
 
“Don’t you practice?” he asked.

She shifted her stare to him and the sarcasm was back in those lidded eyes, as if it had never left.
 
“I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities to practice.
 
Right now, I’m tired.”

He watched her settle down beneath the branches of a large oak tree, cushioning her head on her arm, before he turned back to concentrate on his work.

***

Taylor watched Slane practice from slitted eyes.
 
She was anything but tired.
 
She was restless.
 
And the strange restlessness churned within her the more she watched Slane.