The Commander's Desire (24 page)

“
Eh?” The hermit continued
his snail’s pace to the door.

“
Daniel, I need to ask you a
question. Please stop,” Elwytha entreated.

With seeming reluctance, the old man did as
she asked and turned to face them again. “Ask your question, then,
Princess.”

“
Did you see him
killed?”

The old man rubbed the knob of his walking
stick. “Aye. Who wants to know?”

“
I do,” Elwytha said, not
allowing the Commander to speak. She cast him a warning glance.
“Where did he die?”

“
Yonder.” Daniel waved
vaguely toward the south. “I hunted for squirrels. That’s how I
came across them.”

“
Who?” she
pressed.

“
Your brother. And his
murderer. A great hulking man, he was. Fearsome and bald as the
moon. He stabbed Thor in the back, vicious as a snake. Thor never
saw it coming. Never saw it coming,” he muttered.

Elwytha glanced at the Commander. “Would you
recognize the man if you saw him again?”

“
Oh, rightly so. Rightly
so.” The old man glanced at the Commander, but no recognition
flickered.

“
You’re sure?” she
pressed.

“
Sure enough.” He fluttered
an impatient hand near his ear, as if irritated. “Why all the
questions? Leave an old man in peace. Come have tea.” He turned
back toward his hut.

Elwytha wanted to partake of nothing in that
filthy hut. “Thank you, but we can’t. The sun will go down soon. We
need to find shelter.”

The hermit turned slowly, and this time he
fixated upon the Commander. “Take good care of our princess, young
man. These woods aren’t safe. No. No, they’re not.” He frowned, and
his good eye slid to and fro, as if testing the forest, looking for
evil.

“
I will,” the Commander
rumbled. “We will take your leave.”

“
Thank you, Daniel,” Elwytha
said softly. “Take care of yourself.”

The hermit pushed a hand toward her, as if to
shoo her off. “Don’t worry about me none, Princess. I keeps my
place. And happy I am if I do as I’m told. Go home now. And
Godspeed with you.” He turned and staggered into his house and
slammed the door.

Unease filled Elwytha, and she turned to the
Commander. “Mayhap we should head back now. We still have an hour
of light.” She suddenly didn’t want to descend to the loch. It felt
like a pit. A trap.

“
It may snow tonight. No
shelter awaits us over the mountain.”

“
I feel something is wrong,”
she whispered, and looked up at him pleadingly. “Can we not go
home?”

“
Verily, we would go to your
home, the cottage.” He regarded her. “Or is it your home no
longer?”

Elwytha had meant home as the Prince’s
palace, where she felt safe. Why did she not feel safe in her own
land?

She touched his arm. “Commander.” She could
give no words to her feelings; for her desire to keep him safe and
alive. “Please.”

“
Do you know of shelter over
the mountain?”

“
I know of a
cave.”

“
A cave.” His steely eyes
weighed her words, considering them. He was truly the Commander
now, assessing the situation. Choosing the best plan.
“Where?”

“
On the other side of the
ridge. Further north a half hour, maybe.”

“
It would be dark before we
reached it.”

And treacherous. He didn’t have to say it.
And the cave would be cold, especially if it snowed. They had no
blankets.

His steely gaze gentled. “I would not have
you freeze to death. We will go to the loch. But we will stay in
one of the other huts, and make no fire until dark.”

Elwytha nodded. She didn’t like it, but saw
no better option.

* * * * *

The Commander selected a hut on the far side
of the loch, remote from the others. Elwytha inspected the shack
while he led the horses deep into the forest, which would help
shelter them, should it snow. He had brought horse blankets for
them as well, Elwytha was glad to discover. She could rest easier
this night without having to worry about Sir Duke’s comfort.

The shack consisted of one room, with no
windows. It reminded her of the hunter’s cottage where they had
sheltered from the rainstorm last week. Discomfort poked at her,
remembering the closeness they had shared on that occasion. It
would not happen again, she told herself.

Logs were stacked next to this fireplace,
too, and she assembled kindling in readiness for a fire later.
Crude shelves held a pot and spoon. Blankets were stacked in a
corner. None of the fine comforts of her family cottage, but it
would shelter them for the night.

Elwytha still felt uneasy. They had
encountered no one as they had descended the mountain in the
deepening twilight. No signs of horses or men in the peat at the
loch’s edge. The Commander had led them around the loch by
threading through the forest. Hopefully, few prints would betray
their passage. Soon it would be too dark for anyone to track them.
And still she’d seen no one.

If her brother’s men came, they would
traverse the pass, she knew. And here, at the far end of the loch,
they were far from the pass. If men came, hopefully birds or other
noises would betray their presence before they came upon Elwytha
and the Commander.

Were her brother’s men coming? Why did she
feel so suspicious and uneasy? Didn’t she trust Richard?

Not truly, Elwytha had to admit. Treachery
lurked in his heart. In fact, she had agreed to participate in one
of his treacherous plans. He could plot still more. Elwytha wished
she knew what her brother was thinking.

The Commander entered the dim cottage, and
immediately the small room felt even smaller. He left the door open
to allow light to enter.

“
I’ve readied wood for a
fire,” she offered, retreating to the stack of blankets she’d
dragged near the fireplace. She sank onto them now, and wondered at
their cleanliness. Mayhap she’d sleep with her cloak next to her
body, with the dubious blankets on top.

The Commander sat across from her and pulled
food from his pack. “We’ll leave at first light,” he told her.

Elwytha ate as well, leaving food for
breakfast the next morning. Outside, night closed in. She could
barely make out the Commander a few feet from her, and already the
cold bit into her bones. She sat huddled, arms crossed, burrowed
down in the blankets.

“
Would you start the fire
now?” Her teeth chattered.

After a moment, she saw a dim movement as he
moved toward the fireplace. He seemed to move reluctantly.

“
Don’t you wish a fire?” she
asked.

“
I wish for warmth. But I
don’t wish the smell of smoke to give away our
location.”

“
Do you think anyone would
search now, at night?”

Again the small hesitation, which didn’t
inspire comfort. “Likely not.” A light flickered in the darkness
and then an orange flame licked up from the bits of brush she had
laid in the grate.

“
You’ve laid a fine fire,”
he said quietly.

Elwytha felt pleasure at his words. “Thank
you.”

The fire burned brighter, and he added one
log at a time, building its stability and heat. Elwytha huddled
closer, relishing the warmth.

“
How many blankets have
you?” he asked.

“
Oh!” With a start, Elwytha
realized he was probably cold, too. Kneeling on the floor, she
pulled them to the space between them. “Four,” she said with
triumph. “Plenty for each of us.” She took two and draped them
about her shoulders.

The Commander didn’t touch his. Instead, he
tended the fire, nudging the burning logs with a stick to keep the
spark showers confined to the stone hearth.

He looked at her, and firelight cast his
fearsome features into shadows. “Have you found your answers?” he
asked, his deep voice calm.

Elwytha’s heart jerked a little faster.
“Daniel described you, and your vicious blow that killed my
brother.”

“
Nay. He did not recognize
me, and I stood right before him.”

“
You have hair now. Mayhap
that is why,” she retorted.

“
Mayhap because the man he
saw wasn’t me. If indeed he saw anyone at all.”

“
You suggest he was lying?”
Elwytha felt incredulous, although the thought had crossed her mind
as well.

“
He spoke too quickly. As
though he had memorized his part well.”

“
Speaking quickly is no
proof of a lie,” she rebutted. A breeze blew through the open door,
and she rose to shut it. Although she did recall Daniel muttering
how he’d be happy if he did as he was told. Could someone have told
Daniel what to say? It seemed farfetched. Indeed, it strained the
reaches of credibility. Who would do such a thing? And why? And why
would Daniel comply? Unless he’d been threatened to do so. “Little
enough proof to clear your name, Commander.”

The door flapped open after she’d closed it.
She shoved it shut once more.

“
Still you will not believe
my innocence?” Frustration growled through the deep voice. The door
slammed open again, and he rose to join her.

She did not answer, but hugged the blankets
tighter to herself as he tested the door. He took the spoon from
the shelf and jammed it underneath. Now it stayed shut. Elwytha
stepped closer to the warm fire.

“
Why does proof evade you,
Commander? Mayhap because none exists. Perhaps you should give
up.”

“
I will never give up,” he
growled. “I am innocent. I would have you believe me.”

“
You wish me to trust
you.”

“
Yes.” In the firelight, his
gaze held hers. Part of her believed him. Why couldn’t she admit
that? Why wouldn’t she admit that she found holes in Daniel’s story
as well?

“
I will consider the
evidences,” she said at last. “I will tell you what I
decide.”

The Commander looked away, and again it was
one of those rare times when the mutilated half of his face became
blacked out in the shadows. She saw only the good side, with its
angles and planes, light and shadow…the thick black hair, now a
finger width long, the dark slash of his straight brow, and his eye
in shadow, black as midnight. His expression was grim,
fearsome.

A stab of recognition shocked through
Elwytha. It was like she knew him—or he reminded her of someone
she’d seen before. But who?

Her heart pounded, staring at him. Something
told her it was critical not to miss this. Who was he?

Then he frowned, facing her, and he was the
Commander once more.

“
Why do you stare at me in
such a way?” he rumbled.

Elwytha blinked, jolted out of her perplexed
trance. “No reason.”

“
Still no honesty between
us, Elwytha?”

His displeasure bothered her. “You just
reminded me of someone, for a moment. I don’t know who,” she
retorted. “See? No big secret.”

He moved closer. “You do not know who?”

She frowned. “Should I?”

“
Nay,” he said after a
moment. “You should not.”

She frowned harder. What riddle was this?
“Verily, speak the truth to me.”

“
I would be your husband,”
he said evenly, with a dark touch of an unknown emotion. “What more
do you wish to know?”

She wanted to know nothing about him, she
told herself.

“
Your name,” she said. “I
wish to know your name.” A mistake, she knew it, as soon as the
foolish words departed her lips. The situation was too intimate
now, with the two of them alone together. But she did not recall
her words.

“
You wish to know my name.”
He moved still closer, but she did not back away.

“
Yes,” she returned, her
eyes narrowed. Why did he have to torture her in such a manner?
“Just tell me. Is it so awful? Is that why you won’t tell
me?”

He stopped a mere breath from her, and she
looked up at him. A little of the old fear flared for this big man.
She topped his shoulder, but only just. His size was massive, but
only pure muscle. No fat would dare find purchase on his
intimidating form.

His hands closed around hers, feeling warm
and solid. Alarm skittered through her, but she wouldn’t look away
from him.

He said, “You say you distrust me. Then why
don’t you flee me?” His eyes looked a dark, smoky color.

“
I’m not scared of you.” A
lie, but she remained still, determined to show it as truth. For it
to be truth.

“
My name is
Gilead.”

“
From the Bible? The Prince
hinted that to me.”

“
Yes. A priest had a vision.
He told my mother my name should be Gilead. It means rocky and
strong. A mass of testimony.”

“
That story sounds like a
testimony of its own. Your mother must have had high hopes for
you.”

“
She envisioned me leading
the warriors.”

“
And you do.”

A shadow flitted across his features. “She
never saw.”

“
I’m sorry.” And she was.
“My mother died in childbirth when I was one year old. The babe
perished, too. Have you any other brothers or sisters?” she asked
on impulse.

“
My mother bore no more
children.”

“
Oh.” What a lonely
childhood. At least he’d had the Prince for a friend. Doubtless
others, as well.