Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade (20 page)

“And you could have
died.”

He pursed his lips,
unable to think of a reply that would be stronger than Tate’s argument.  Still,
he wasn’t finished with him. “I looked like a coward, hiding in the vault.”

“It saved your life.
What are you complaining about? I’m sure there will be other opportunities to
prove your worth with a sword, Edward. But right now, you are going to have to
trust me to keep you safe.”

Edward huffed and
fidgeted and made faces, indicative of his anger. But he knew, deep down, that
his uncle was correct. Locking himself in the vault had saved his life. Whether
by hook or by crook, that was what Tate had been attempting to do for the
better part of two years. So far, he’d done a good job. Still, at fourteen,
Edward thought himself quite the grown man and silently vowed that the next
time he would determine what was best for himself. Not Tate. Well… maybe.

Attention was taken
away from his temper tantrum when the door to the keep overhead shifted and
creaked open. Tate and Edward looked up to see the panel opening wide to reveal
Toby and Althel.  

It had taken them a
while to get the door open because the old iron pin locking the bolt had been
jammed. With some grease, they had finally managed to get it off.  Toby stood
for a moment in the doorway, surveying the destruction below with some awe;
everything was in ruins, shattered or burnt. The healthy men were moving the
dead into a pile near the gate house while the wounded were being put near the
kitchens. Stephen, no longer obligated to fight, had his hands full with all of
the wounded.

As she looked about,
her gaze came to rest directly below and she saw Tate gazing up at her. Their
eyes locked and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips. It was
relief, joy and comfort all rolled into one. As the night wind blew her hair
across her face, she knelt down, her gaze riveted to Tate.

“I see that you are
still in one piece,” she said. “I had my doubts.”

Tate just took a
moment to drink in the sight of her. “Never doubt me,” he told her. “You would
be wrong.”

She laughed softly,
noticing that Edward was looking up at her as well. “I see that you survived,
sire,” she said. “I am pleased.”

It was far different
from the woman who had wept and ranted two days before.  She looked composed
and strong. Edward wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

“Thank you,” he
replied hesitantly. “I… are… are you all right in there? I can come up to help
if you need…?”

Toby shook her head.
“We have made do,” she said, then she looked over her shoulder briefly before
turning back to the men below. “Althel has made some soup. He is trying to find
some rope so that we can lower the pot down.”

Tate was still looking
at her as if unable to move his eyes off of her. “That was generous of you,” he
said. “Have you fed the wounded?”

“We have.”

“What is the tally?”

Her smile faded
somewhat. “Twenty nine injured and eleven dead.  I should like to remove the
dead as quickly as possible. They are beginning to smell.”

Tate nodded, looking a
few feet away to where they were reconstructing the stairs.  “It should be an
hour or so and we’ll have access to do that. In the meanwhile.…”

He suddenly began
looking around as if hunting for something. Toby didn’t know how he did it, but
as she watched, he collected two pieces of a broken ladder, somehow put them
together, and climbed his way up the side of the keep to the open door.  Before
she realized it, he was standing in front of her. 

All Toby could do was
stare at him, a smile on her lips and her hands trembling with the thrill of
seeing him in the flesh before her. She was so very glad to see that he was
unharmed; more than that, he looked positively healthy. Other than the fact he
was covered in dirt and sweat, he looked wonderful. She didn’t even see any
wounds on him; not a nick.

She hadn’t realized
that she was backing away from him as he moved closer. As she bumped against
wall, she found herself riveted to his storm cloud eyes, seeing emotions
reflected in the dark depths that were puzzling and new. Her heart was beating
so fast that it ached.

“I… I am glad to see
that you are unharmed,” she managed to stammer.

He continued walking
towards her until he was up against her body; Toby could feel his cold armor on
her flesh, his face looming inches above her own.

“You said that,” he
growled gently.

“It… ‘tis true.”

The smile playing on
his lips broadened. Toby’s limbs went weak with a painful sort of tingle; she
wanted to throw her arms around him but dare not make a move. She had no right
to touch the man. The self-restraint was agonizing as her palms began to sweat.

“Elizabetha?” he asked
softly.

Toby could hardly speak for the excitement
bolting through her body. “Aye?”
“I must do something now but I want assurance that you will not be offended.”

“Offended by what?”

“I do not want my eyes
gouged out.”

“I… I will not gouge
your eyes out, I promise. But what are you going to do?”

His response was to
cup her face between his enormous palms, his dark eyes boring into her as if to
drill holes through to the other side. Toby gazed up into his handsome face,
unable to think or breathe, as his lips very gently came down on hers.  It was
soft and warm and wonderful. Her eyes closed of their own accord, her focus on
his tender lips as they suckled her gently. Having never been kissed by a man
before, she had no idea what to expect. All she knew was this was more, and
better, than she could have ever dreamed.

Her self-restraint
vanished and she threw her arms around his neck about the time he wrapped her
up in his enormous arms. Together, they enveloped each other in a tight
embrace. Tate suckled her top lip, her lower lip, his tongue finally licking at
her mouth, silently pleading to be admitted inside. Toby opened her mouth
slightly and he invaded, gorging himself on her sweetness. He suckled her
tongue, a delectable little morsel, kissing her more fiercely with each passing
moment. 

His arms were wrapped
tightly around her slender body, his hands clutching at her. Toby responded to
him as if she had been doing it all her life, so familiar with the desires of a
man she had never even touched. She sensed his passion, matching her own,
understanding in that brief contact just how powerful it was. The spark that
had been kindled with the first tender kiss was exploding into a raging fire.

They lost concept of
time, fueled by the eruption of their first taste of one another. Tate ended up
bumping Toby’s head against the wall during his tender offensive, hearing the
soft thud and immediately apologetic. But Toby just rubbed the back of her head
and laughed.

“No harm done,” she
murmured, her lips swollen and red from his furious kisses.  The hazel eyes
focused on him, drinking in his glorious face. “I… I must confess, I have
never… that is, I never expected to….”

He smiled, kissing her
again just because he could. She was delicious to kiss. “I know,” he murmured
against her mouth. “I never expected to, either. But I am glad that I did.”

She looked at him with
amused curiosity. “Did what?”

He kissed her again,
very tenderly. “That,” he breathed. “May I have your permission to do it again
sometime? Perhaps many sometimes?”

Toby was breathless.
“I… I am not sure.”

He looked surprised
and disappointed. “Why not?”

“Because… well, it
simply isn’t proper. We should not have… that is to say, we are not betrothed
or married and actions such as this are only appropriate between.…”

He shushed her.  “Do
you think I would have kissed you like this if I did not have something more in
mind? Really, Elizabetha; for an intelligent woman, you are rather dense.”

The almond-shaped eyes
widened. “W-what?”

He kissed her again
and let her go.  “Think about it,” he said, turning for the great hall. “I
would check on my men now.”

“Wait,” she found her
voice, grabbing him by the wrist. “You will be plain, Sir Tate. What do you
mean?”

He took her chin
between his thumb and forefinger, turned her head slightly, and kissed her on a
dirty cheek. “Must I really explain this to you?” he whispered in her ear.

Toby was left breathless again by his kiss.
“You must. I insist.”
He grinned; she could feel his teeth against her cheek. “Where do you want to
go first? Paris or Rome?”

“You are going to
escort me to those places?”

“As your husband, it
would be my pleasure.”

Toby thought she might
faint. In fact, she had to swallow very hard and take a very deep breath. “Good
Lord,” she breathed. “Do you mean to say that you plan to…?”

“I have for quite some
time.”

“But…!” There were
tears in her eyes. “But… what about everything you said about my horrid
manners? You told me it was an appalling trait. Moreover, you are above my
station. You are… my God, you are…you
cannot
marry me.”

He was laughing; she
could feel it as he continued to nuzzle her cheek and ear. “I can marry
whomever I wish,” he murmured. “I think we are a good match, you and I. Do you
disagree?”

She closed her eyes at
the realization of it and tears coursed down her cheeks.  He felt the moisture
and looked at her, concerned. 

“What is the matter,
sweetheart?” he asked gently.

She was trying not to
weep from sheer joy. “What about my terrible disposition?”

His soft laughter
returned. “Forgive me; I spoke before coming to know you.  I know now that you
are simply a woman who speaks her mind and I respect that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure enough that I am
delighted with the prospect of spending the rest of my life with you.”

The most amazing
expression filled her face as the tears began to magically vanish. “I simply
cannot believe it. I would never dare to hope.”

He was smiling sweetly
at her. A big hand brushed hair from her face as he studied her very closely.
“And I would never dare to hope to find a woman like you.  You are a remarkable
lady, Mistress Elizabetha. I think that I shall enjoy this marriage very much.
At least, I hope so.”

She returned his
smile, timidly. “I do not know what to say to all of this.”

“It is simple. Say
that you will marry me.”

Her smile faded as her
eyes grew intense. “If you want me, then I most certainly will.”

His hand tightened on
her face and he brought her to his lips for another gentle kiss. Toby was
breathing unsteadily as he moved from her mouth to her nose to her forehead. It
was the sweetest gesture she had ever experienced and a magic moment in the
making.  After several long seconds of touching, of tasting, Tate finally let go
of her face and gently took her hand.

“Come along now,” he
said. “I have wounded men that I would like to see.”

Toby followed him into
the hall and made his rounds with him, but her focus wasn’t on the injured men.
It was on a mountain of a man named Tate de Lara she suddenly found herself
betrothed to.

***

Tate had tried to make
Toby go to bed as midnight approached, but she repeatedly refused his requests
to the point of walking the other way when he would look at her. There were
double the wounded in the hall now that the injured in the bailey had been
brought in and, consequently, double the work. Toby would not shirk her duties
and worked deep into the night with Stephen, Wallace and Althel to ease the
men’s suffering. Eventually, Tate gave up trying to force her to rest and went
about his duties with Kenneth. But it didn’t stop him from keeping an eye on
Toby, making sure he knew where she was every second. Now, things were
different and he felt very possessive and very protective of her. Already, she
very much belonged to him.

Just after midnight,
Tate and Kenneth huddled in the solar to make plans for morning repairs. Toby
was in the great hall tending to a very young man who had a sucking chest
wound. He was, in truth, no more than sixteen years of age and her heart hurt
for him as he struggled to be brave against the pain. While the other wounded
seemed to be in various stages of sleep, the young man was wide awake because
of his difficulty in breathing. Stephen had already used a great deal of skill
to stitch up the initial wound but the lad didn’t seem to be much better.

So Toby sat with him,
speaking to him quietly to keep his mind off his pain. As she sat with him,
thoughts of Ailsa began to creep back into her mind but she fought them,
knowing that she still had a job to do before she could tend to her sister’s
burial.  In truth, she had been so swept up in the battle that she’d not given
any thought to her baby sister, now dead for more than a day. She knew that if
she gave over to those thoughts that she would be useless, so she tried to bank
them. These men were alive and needed her help.  She wanted to do what she
could.