Choosing Hearts - The Fighter's Passion (Gritty, Explicit Romance Novel) (A Lusty Stand Alone Story)
Authors: Diana Quippley
CHOOSING
HEARTS
Diana
Quippley
This tale of passion has been locked and sealed in a fancy, copyrighted
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treasure trove belonging to the lusty
Diana Quippley
in the year 2015. It is
highly advisable that you do not attempt to pilfer or purloin any parts of this
enthralling story...
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you are to be told that this is indeed a work of fiction. Any resemblance or
similarity to real-life individuals, places, or things is purely coincidental.
A Quick Word
CHOOSING HEARTS
is a lusty
stand-alone romance novel with some scenes of passion, violence, and mature
content. Inside you will learn there is happiness in life, but as always, it
comes with a heavy price…
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CHAPTER ONE
“I like the first
showers of spring.” Belen grinned boyishly. “It stirs my heart with love.”
Rogan smiled at
the nineteen year old on his first year of service. The youngster’s exuberance
reminded him of his own early youth as he turned his handsome face up to the
refreshing spray showering down on all of them. “Aye, young Belen, spring is
the time for love and rejuvenation.”
The warm sunshine
flooding the land as the sun crested the northern snow capped mountains brought
the surrounding fauna and flora to life. Flowers, nourished by the early
morning rain, exploded in a vivid palette of color even as birds equally
vibrant took to the air or burst into song. The advent of spring came with the
promise of even more prosperity for a flourishing land in its fourth year of
peace after many years of strife and despair.
“After a long hard
winter, a good spring rain is always welcome.” Gregory nodded, smoothing down
his thick drooping moustache as the rain trickled down his leathery face.
“Welcome it is,
old friend” Rogan replied as patted the neck of the great black charger he was
mounted on. “The last three years I have served in the Duke’s army here at Kirk
Falls have been the best days of my life.”
“As it has been
for the dukedom,” the veteran man-at-arms, Gregory, agreed. “Three years of
peace after the troubles from the south-west were dealt with.”
Rogan smiled wryly,
reminiscing about the time he had first come to the lovely town of Kirk Falls.
He was a wandering mercenary then, with only the clothes on his back and his
skills as a fighter to offer. The people of the fair countryside had welcomed
him and he soon found work as a militiaman in the local patrol. The land of
Kirk Falls was under constant incursions from the over-ambitious dukedom to the
south-west. Rogan’s fighting skills and tactical ability won him a place in
Duke Edenton’s army. Within a few weeks Rogan’s heroic feats had inspired the
Duke’s men to victory and he was proclaimed the champion of Kirk Falls. And
ever since then, he presided over the army, ushering in a time of peace and
prosperity for all.
“Speaking of the
south-west,” Rogan raised an eyebrow, gently nudging his warhorse into a
forward trot. “I hear the Duke’s niece is due to arrive from Wells Park in a
day.”
“Aye, Rogan.”
Belen smiled happily, “that she is. And what a rare beauty she is too.”
“Would you be
smitten by her?” Gregory laughed.
“Wouldn’t we all.”
The teenager replied, misty eyed. “Her flowing golden hair, creamy soft skin
and sweet rosy lips - such lovely eyes as blue as a summer sky… and that body…
I shudder at the thought of her luscious curves.”
“The Duke would
have you drawn and quartered if he heard you now.” Rogan threw back his head
and laughed.
“It would be worth
it, for one night of passion with her.” Belen went on. “Lady Gwendolyn is
indeed a goddess among mortal women.”
“Well then, it’s
best we old goats leave her to young fools like you to fawn over.” Gregory
kicked his great grey horse into a gallop. “Hurry now, let us ride back to the
town square. I can smell breakfast being made already.”
The three horsemen
guided their mounts back down the rocky trail they had come up to the cliffs
that overlooked the dukedom to marvel at the sunrise. Rogan enjoyed the company
of the veteran and the greenhorn. It had become almost a ritual for them to
take the morning patrol for almost a year now. At twenty seven, Rogan fit
perfectly between the nineteen year old rookie and the thirty nine year old
veteran to form a buffer between their generation gap and all the arguments
that ensued between the two. He treated all his men alike, and as his equals,
even though he was the captain now for the last two years.
The early morning
sun on his back felt good as Rogan rode into the town centre. He was a tall
man, almost seven feet, and very handsome. He enjoyed the looks he got from all
the women of Kirk Falls, young and not so young. His shoulder length hair was
golden, with flame red highlights and his eyes were as green as emeralds set on
a striking chiseled face, clean shaven and square jawed. He was a warrior born
with a powerful physique, heavily muscled and with agility and speed that gave
him a purposeful gait making others look up at him in awe and fear. A master in
many forms of martial arts, weapons and tactical skill, Rogan was the Duke’s
champion and all of Kirk Falls’ protector. “Will you look at that,” Belen made a
face as he drew rein beside the huge warrior. “It is as if we are not even
here.”
“You should be
used to that by now, boy.” Gregory grunted as he dismounted. “You don’t have a
chance when you keep company with Rogan.”
“Not even one of
the fair lasses can tear their eyes off him.” Belen joined Gregory as he
tethered his horse outside the eating house. “I mean, what are we to do when
none of the women of Kirk Falls know we even exist?”
“I’m too old to
care.” Gregory dusted his clothes before stepping into the establishment. “And
so is my hungry belly.”
“Don’t worry,
young Belen.” Rogan cuffed the freckle-faced youngster behind the ear. “I have
as much need of these pretty young lasses as Gregory here.”
“Ah, yes.” Belen
scratched his head. “You’ve got the belle of the town betrothed to you.”
“Well, not
betrothed yet.” Rogan sat down beside Gregory and poured himself some ale.
“And when are you
going to ask Farmer Grimond for his daughter’s hand?” Gregory eyed the taller
man as he sipped his ale.
“As soon as the
Duke gets back and awards me the land I have been promised.” Rogan replied,
smiling at the lovely serving girl carrying their usual breakfast of eggs, ham,
bread and fruit.
“Well, the Duke’s
due back in three days.” Belen grinned, biting into an apple. “Enough time for
showing Lady Gwendolyn a good time here in Kirk Falls.”
“Fat chance of
that happening. Why would a woman of high noble birth want to be with a mere
man-at-arms in training like you?” Gregory sneered at Belen.
“Love knows not status
of birth or station.” Rogan said sagely, taking a bite of bread and ham.
“Or even age.”
Belen added, showing Gregory his middle finger. “Even an old toad like you can
find someone young and lovely.”
“This old toad…”
Gregory began, baring his teeth.
Then, suddenly,
the town bell rang and all three men stood up. The townspeople had begun
gathering outside around the high bell tower by the time they hurried out of
the eating house. A young rider stood by the bell, gasping and wiping his sweat
streaked face as he held on to the reins of his well lathered mount.
“Clovis?” Rogan
called, as he ran out of the tavern. “What news from the south-west, boy?”
“Oh… Rogan.” The
young man panted, rather relieved to see the large captain of the guard. “It is
good that you are here… and you too, Gregory.”
“Speak, boy.” The
grey haired veteran grated. “What news?”
“Bandits have laid
siege upon the southern border tower.” Clovis said with a deep sigh. “Lady
Gwendolyn’s carriage was ambushed. She is being held hostage in the tower.”
“What?” Belen
shrieked. “Raise the army. Call every man able. We must rescue her.”
“Silence, fool.”
Gregory barked. “How many bandits, Clovis?”
“At least two
dozen, thirty at most.” The young rider replied. “We didn’t have a chance; they
slew all the men guarding the carriage and took the tower. I alone managed to
flee to get help… Captain Borden ordered me to leave them… otherwise I would
have fought…”
“We do not blame
you, Clovis. You did the right thing and Borden’s sacrifice will be
remembered.” Rogan assured the trembling young man.
“Let us leave now.
A hundred armed men will do.” Belen was almost screaming. “We must save her…”
“They will see us
coming from miles away and can hold siege in that tower for days or even
weeks.” Rogan said grimly. “We need a more subtle and covert approach.”
“Half a dozen
skilled men, quiet and deadly, with their wits about them will suffice.”
Gregory nodded. “That leaves you out of this mission, young Belen.”
“What? But… but
I…” The youngster babbled.
“Gregory is right,
Belen.” Rogan nodded. “Your infatuation with her ladyship will prove a
hindrance to our plans.”
“But I can… I am
the best bowman…” The young man protested.
“You legendary
skills with the bow will give them advance warning of our approach; this has to
be quick, quiet and precise.” Rogan rubbed his clean shaven chin, his brow
knitted in formulating a plan of action.
“What can be
quieter than my deadly arrows from afar?” Belen protested hotly.
“Heed me and
remain here.” The tall fiery-blond warrior gritted his teeth. “Lest I have you
clapped in irons.”
Belen grudgingly
sat down and sulked as Gregory listed the four other better experienced men who
would join him and Rogan on their stealth mission.
“Gorman, Niles,
Draco and Harald are the best we have.” The veteran looked at the assembled men
around the bell tower. “We can be armed and ready to ride within the hour.”
“Good, let’s be on
our way then.” Rogan nodded. “We will ride hard and fast, take two spare horses
to a man. It is a six hour ride. We must make it in four.”
~ ~
~
About half an hour
to the southern border, with the watchtower in sight and the sun high in the
noonday sky, Rogan motioned to the five riders following him to dismount and
lead their horses on foot. Tethering twelve of the horses to a large tree, the
six powerfully built men led one horse each by their reins and silently tread
through the trees toward the tower that loomed ahead.
“We split up into
teams of two and move in from three sides.” Rogan whispered to the others.
“Harald, you come with me.”
“Aye, Captain.”
The bald giant nodded, his dark eyes narrowed and a sullen scowl on his large
bearded face.
“I see six men on
each wall; they don’t really look very alert to me.” Draco said softly, his sharp
eyes scanning the walls of the tower with the expert precision of a seasoned
scout.
“All the better
for us, lads.” Gregory nodded with a grim smile. “The noon day sun has got them
all drowsy. Let’s go.”
The three groups
of two slipped off through the trees, leaving their horses in the shrubbery for
a quick getaway. Rogan, with Harald on his heels, rapidly moved to the western
gate. No one was around. The two seasoned warriors scaled the wall with ease,
landing in the middle of six half drunken bandits on guard duty playing dice.
“Intruders…” One
of the bandits managed to yell before he was forever silenced by Harald’s
massive double bladed axe.
The other five
didn’t know what hit them; all they saw was a blur of deadly steel before
darkness overcame them.
“That’s the lot
then.” Rogan heaved a sigh, wiping the two bloodied broad swords he held on the
bodies of the three he had killed while Harald emptied the gold from the purses
of the other three.
“There will be
more inside the tower.” The huge axe-man rumbled as he pocketed the gold coins.
“Yes, and I see
Gregory and Draco coming over from the eastern wall as well.” Rogan replied
softly, signaling at the other two as they crept up.
They ran up the
wide stairway that wound around the tower from inside as Gorman and Niles
joined the other four with grins on their blood spattered faces.
“Eighteen to
nothing.” Gregory grinned. “Not a bad start at all.”
“If Clovis was
right, we may just have another eight to ten more to deal with.” Draco whispered,
craning his neck to pick up sounds from within.
“Bandits like
these couldn’t steal candy from children.” Niles snorted. “They went down like
training dummies.”
“Desperate men,
times are hard.” Gorman shook his head. “Bumpkins with rusted weapons stood no
chance against seasoned, well-trained warriors.”
“They were just
grunts and guardsmen; we might find us a fight with the core group inside.”
Rogan cautioned his men. “Don’t let the easy victory make you lower your
guard.”
“Never have; never
will.” Gregory whispered with pride and the others nodded their support.
They stood before
a large wooden door. Sounds of merriment drifted out from inside. The bandits
surely did not expect such a swift response to their vandalism. Men were
laughing and obviously drunk. Bad music and ribald cheers spoke of what kind of
entertainment was being enjoyed behind the door. Rogan hoped that the lady
Gwendolyn was not the star performer. Offering a silent prayer, he motioned at
Harald to break open the door and to the rest to follow the huge axe-man in.
Harald splintered
the heavy oak door with one massive blow of his battle-axe, before charging his
gigantic bulk through it, followed closely by Rogan and the rest. More than
twenty men in various states of intoxication and jollity froze in bewilderment.
The prospect of a large ransom for their elite captive had them giving into
drunkenness and merriment even before their pockets were lined. The music
played on even as the pair of naked women on table tops kept swaying their
curvy hips to the coarse rhythm.
“Where is the
Lady Gwendolyn, heir to the Duke of Kirk Falls?” Rogan’s voice boomed like
thunder. “Speak now, or forever be silenced.”
“Who are you to
make such a demand?” Another loud voice echoed down from above.
Rogan looked up at
the large man dressed in better clothes and armor than the rest of the bandits
staring down from the balcony of an upper room.
“I am Rogan,
protector of the dukedom.” He shouted back. “Answer me now, vandal, or suffer
the fate of the men on your walls.”
“You are a fool,
Rogan.” The other man sneered. “Think you that with a mere handful of men you
can bargain with me, Edgthor the Great?”
“I ask you again,
bandit.” Rogan said very slowly. “Where is the Lady Gwendolyn?”
“You think you
have me at a disadvantage, fool.” The bandit chief guffawed. “My men outnumber
you four to one.”
“Have at them.”
Rogan yelled, his twin broadswords weaving arcs of lightning and spilling
bandit blood. His men-at-arms moved with as much expert ease, their weapons of
choice singing their own songs of death.
Within moments,
seventeen bandits lay dead in pools of blood and four more cowered on the
ground, their hands raised in surrender. The music had finally stopped playing,
the musician having fled through an open window. The two naked dancers shivered
in fright under the very tables that they were performing on moments ago.
Rogan raced up the
stairway leading to the bandit leader’s position. The man had taken the
opportunity to flee while the fight went on. As the tall captain of the Duke’s
men ran up four steps at a time, he could hear a woman’s voice screaming. With
a few more bounds, Rogan reached the very top of the tower. In the narrow space
of the eagle’s nest, where lookouts were normally posted, Rogan rushed out to
find a lovely golden haired young woman struggling against the bearded bandit
leader.
“Relinquish your
hostage, fool.” Rogan commanded. “You are at the end of your road.”
“Never.” Edgthor
roared. “One more step and she goes over the ledge.”
“You wouldn’t
dare.” Rogan challenged the man.
“Watch me.”
Edgthor sneered back.
“No, don’t…”
Gwendolyn shrieked as Edgthor yanked her over to the edge.
The young woman
went white with fear and fainted, her lithe body going limp and sliding down
and over the bandit’s legs. The surprised look on the man’s face was all Rogan
needed. With a flick of his muscular wrist, he embedded a throwing knife into
Edgthor’s collarbone. Rogan cursed himself; he was aiming for the bandit’s
throat.
Shocked by the
sudden pain, Edgthor lost his balance and began to fall over the ledge himself.
Rogan watched in horror as the man went over, still grasping the noblewoman’s
arm and dragging her over with him. In a flash, he dived forward and grabbed
one of the young blonde’s limp legs, holding her back.
“Let her go,
fool.” The bandit laughed, as he dangled a hundred feet in the air, holding on
to the unconscious woman’s arm for dear life as he bled from the wound. “You
can’t save her… she is mine.”
Ignoring the man,
Rogan heaved the woman back over the ledge, ripping her expensive gown in
several places. He glared down at the bandit still clinging onto the girl. The
man was determined to take her down with him. Rogan whipped out one of his
broadswords, twirled it coolly in the air once before cleanly hacking the
bandit’s arm off at the elbow. He didn’t look at the man plummeting to his
death, and turned a deaf ear to his screams, focusing instead on the
unconscious noblewomen he had just rescued.
“That was the most
harrowing rescue ever,” Gregory said, as he walked through the small doorway.
“Yes, it was.”
Rogan panted, prying the dismembered hand and forearm off the young woman’s
upper arm and hurling it over the ledge to join its dead owner.
“And you would
have it no other way.” The older man grinned. “How fares the fair lass?”
“She will survive…
as will we all.” Rogan said with a grimace, flexing his sore shoulder.
~ ~ ~