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Authors: Maggie Carpenter

Tags: #Historical, #Erotic Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #BDSM

The Warrior and the Petulant Princess (14 page)

BOOK: The Warrior and the Petulant Princess
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“We do our best,” he smiled.

The woman waddled away, and Lizbett reached across the table and grabbed his arm.

“Tebzilla? You keep the marauders at bay?”

“I can’t call you Lizbett, and Tebzilla is almost Lizbett backwards.”

“I suppose,” she grimaced, “but what’s this about the marauders?”

“We don’t have to do it anymore, but a while back they were sneaking into this village at night, stealing from the kitchens and storehouses. They didn’t hurt anyone, but my Prince heard about it and sent us to stop them. It was only for a short time.”

“What did you do?” she asked eager to hear the story.

“We slightly injured a few to show them we could hurt them, but then we provided them with some grains and animals and taught them how grow their own vegetables and use their animals.”

“If you did all that, why would they have stopped the carriage on the way to Verdana?”

“Because not all the marauders wanted our help. There is an aggressive offshoot, and the younger men are rebellious. They are a concern for this village, and other realms as well. They’re not a threat yet, but they could be one day.”

“But Zanderone and Verdana will stop them if they become difficult, right?”

“Probably, but relations between realms can change.”

“I know what you mean. Verdana and Zanderone weren’t always friends, that’s what father says.”

“But we are now, and that’s why it’s important to keep my Prince informed, because someone may be trying to stir up trouble between us, or hurt us both so one cannot come to the other’s aid.”

“One day it will be me who has to consider all these things,” she remarked solemnly. “I’m so glad you’ll be there to advise me.”

“Our union will cement our kingdoms,” he smiled, “and together we will be strong.”

“Larian,” she said tilting her head to one side.

“Yes, Tebzilla?”

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered brusquely.

“I certainly will if I wish,” he replied raising one scolding eyebrow. “What is it you want to ask me?”

“When I am Queen, I will be the ruler. That means everyone must do as I tell them, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he grinned knowing exactly what she was about to say.

“So, if you and I are married, and I’m the Queen, then you’ll have to obey me. If I order you to do something, you’ll have to do it.”

His grin grew wider and he leaned across table, locking her eyes.

“You want to order me about? You’re welcome to try.”

The flippity flip somersaulted in her stomach, and swallowing hard she dropped her eyes to the table.

Why does he make me feel this way? Now all I want to do is to lay in his lap and have him touch my nugget.

“When we reach my uncle’s home I will take care of your hungry nugget.”

“How did you know?” she asked snapping her head up, her eyes wide.

“I know many things, and you’d best remember that.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T
hough Alianda wanted no payment for the meal Larian insisted.

“My men consumed a great deal,” he said pushing coins into the woman’s hand. “Perhaps if I stop in again one day, you might provide me with some tea.”

“Tea, Sir? I shall provide you with much more than that,” she exclaimed, and with a warmth that filled his heart she hugged him as tightly as her body would allow. “We are so indebted to your Prince, please tell him so.”

A short while later Lizbett was safely settled in her seat, Larian was astride Thunder, and the carriage and its retinue pulled away from the inn and headed down the road that would take them into the barren land.

It wasn’t long before she noticed the landscape changing; the village had been thick with lush foliage but it was quickly disappearing, replaced by plants that looked grey and brown. Even the ground was different, no longer covered in grass but dark cracked dirt. The carriage ride which had been relatively smooth became jarring and uneven, and the tenderness that remained across her bottom was feeling every bump.

“No wonder they call this the barren land,” she muttered to herself as she gazed out the window. “It’s awful out here.”

The landscape had become completely flat and the only hills she could see were far in the distance. The temperature had changed as well; it was now hot, and she reached across and opened the small basket of food and drink her servant had packed for her. The fowl in broth at the inn hadn’t tasted very good and she hadn’t eaten much, so she started munching on the delicious items the castle kitchen had prepared.

“This is much better,” she smiled downing a particularly tasty morsel, and taking a long drink of tea from a container that kept things cool, she let out a satisfied sigh.

The suns were high in the sky and seemed to be baking the ground, and as the time melted away she became bored and restless. There was no scenery to look at, she was overly warm, and the ride was an endless series of bumps that were rattling her nerves.

“Please let us get through this part soon,” she groaned. “I hate the barren land.”

She was just about to close her eyes and try to nap when she heard shouting, and startled, she slid across her seat and stared out at the nothingness; off in the distance she could see a plume of dust. The carriage abruptly halted almost jolting her to the floor; she saw Larian jump from Thunder, and a moment later he climbed inside.

“The marauders are coming. They’ve laid some shrubs across the road to block our way.”

“Can’t your men just move them?”

“No, it’s not wise to be off our horses, and the marauders are approaching fast, besides, the carriage is slow, they will quickly catch us.”

“How did they know we were coming?”

“I don’t know they did, they may have just wanted to stop whoever happened along the road, but regardless it’s time for you to hide, and quickly,” he declared.

Pulling the soft cushions off the bench opposite her he lifted the seat and gestured for her to climb inside.

“In there?” she exclaimed. “You expect me to get in there?”

“Right now,” he barked.

Moving closer she stared into the small space, then standing up straight she shook her head.

“No, it’s impossible,” she frowned. “You said you could fight them off with no trouble, so I’d rather you do that.”

“Lizbett, this is no time…”

“I’m serious. I’m not crawling into that tiny space,” she said vehemently, pointing at it defiantly.

Larian’s hand shot forward and grabbed the bodice of her dress; with one powerful jerk he ripped it from her chest leaving her bounteous breasts for the world to see.

“AARRGGHH! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” she screamed frantically trying to cover herself.

“Unless you want the marauders and my men to see your lovely breasts, I suggest you get into your hiding place right away.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” she wailed as she frantically tried to crawl into the narrow space and hold her arms across her chest at the same time.

“Needs must, now hurry up, they’re almost upon us.”

As she climbed in and was attempting to lay back he glanced around the carriage and spied her shawl still sitting on the seat. Hastily grabbing it he dropped it on top of her.

“I’m not comfortable, it’s so cramped,” she protested as she pulled the shawl over her chest. “I’ll suffocate.”

“There are plenty of air vents along the back side. Now be very quiet and be very still,” he growled, then closing the seat he slid a secret bolt into place and put back the cushions. If anyone did get into the carriage and thought to test the top of the seat it wouldn’t budge.

Taking a quick look around he saw nothing to suggest a woman had been there, but closed the hamper and placed it on the floor, then standing in the open doorway he grasped the top of the carriage, swung up his legs, and landed on the roof.

Standing tall with his hands on his hips, the sun glinting off the steel that hung around various parts of his body and the long sheath that held his sword, the stance gave him two advantages; he would look bigger than life as the marauders approached, and he would be able to scan them as they came close, calculating their number and prowess.

His men formed a straight line in front of the carriage with Zoltaire in the center by the carriage door; their horses were still but snorting, knowing they may soon be asked to charge forward.

Larian quickly saw the marauders numbered a dozen, all dressed in the hooded cloaks they wore as protection from the sun. The leader was out front with two men flanking him just slightly back, while the remaining nine lagged behind in no particular formation. Scrutinizing their bodies he noted the only weapons they carried were various clubs hanging from ropes around their waists.

“Your business,” Larian called, his voice booming from the top of the carriage.

“Give us your food and valuables, and whatever you carry in the carriage, and we will move the obstacles in your path and let you pass,” the leader called back as he ventured forward.

“I have another offer,” Larian declared. “Move the obstacles and we will let you live.”

“You are outnumbered,” the leader yelled. “We are double your men.”

“I will instruct my warriors to remain with the carriage. I need some sport and I will kill each of you by myself.”

As he’d spoken Larian’s eyes had been surveying the unruly group of men determining which were the weakest. At the very back he’d caught a glimpse of reddish hair falling out from under a hood, and the tiniest glint of steel poking out below the cloak; without warning the precognitive thought flashed through his head.

An opportunity to help the King will present itself.

The answer came to him in a flash; the treacherous nobles who had escaped had approached the marauders and convinced them to stop the carriage.

They must have learned the Princess would be traveling, or did they just want our swords and horses?

“Let us see inside your carriage,” the leader repeated.

“You alone, you approach. I am a Warrior Of The First Order and a Commander. I give you my word no harm will come to you.”

It was universally understood that if a Warrior Of The First Order gave his word it could be trusted. The warriors were men of honor, and their word, especially the Warriors Of The First Order, was gold.

The leader didn’t move, so without warning Larian made a spectacular leap from the top of the carriage over the heads of the horses and his men, landing safely on the ground in front of them. He was rewarded by an uneasy murmuring that rustled through the group of the unkempt men.

Larian had executed the stunt to shock them, show his athleticism, and intimidate the leader into doing his bidding; it worked; the leader moved his horse forward.

“Please, dismount. You may come and see inside the carriage. We are warriors, but we prefer to settle matters reasonably. I give you my word, no harm will come to you,” then pausing he added, “my name is Larian Lobergene.”

Larian had changed his voice from deep and commanding, to warm and cajoling.

“My name is Zanock,” the marauder nervously replied. “I believe the word of a warrior, but…”

“Please,” Larian said, and gestured for Zoltaire to move his horse so they could enter the carriage.

He knew the marauder was still skeptical so Larian turned his back on him as a sign of trust as he opened the carriage door.

“See, there’s nothing in here,” Larian said stepping aside, “come and see for yourself.”

As Zanock first peered, then climbed inside, Larian pulled his sword and held it in the air to give to Zoltaire, but as he did he signaled Zoltaire to lean forward.

“Stay by the door and listen as we talk,” he said softly as he handed him his weapon.

Zoltaire nodded, and as Larian climbed into the carriage Zoltaire dismounted and stood beside the door.

Zanock had sensed there was more to Larian’s invitation than to simply verify that the carriage was empty, and though cautious the marauder was curious.

“Zanock, thank you. I suspect you guessed I need to speak with you privately.”

“I did, but this is a strange turn,” he replied.

“Some men came to you, noble, wealthy men, and offered you many things if you would join forces with them against the King of Verdana.”

“How do you know this?” Zanock frowned.

“I am a Commander, it is my business to know,” Larian replied. “There are things I should tell you about these men, but if you would rather not hear what I have to say you may leave.”

“I wish to hear,” Zanock said.

Larian sat back in his seat and paused, studying the man in front of him.

I was right. The nobles are with the marauders. If nothing else I can send word to the King but Zanock appears to be reasonable. Perhaps I can achieve more.

“The men who approached you are evil,” Larian began. “They will use you to get what they want, and if they let you live, which is very doubtful, they will only do so to enslave you and your families. Please, tell me, what did they say was in the carriage that they wanted so badly?”

“A woman,” Zanock replied, “a very important woman, but they didn’t say who.”

The did know we were coming through here with the Princess, but how?

“As you can see there is no woman,” Larian continued.

Zanock looked around; there was no evidence that anyone had been traveling inside.

“This carriage came through before with food for the King, my gift to him.”

“Yes, it was stopped by some foolish young men who do not understand the strength of the Zanderone warriors.”

“You know my men could easily have killed them, but they didn’t because they are men of honor. They kill only if defending themselves.”

Zanock stared out the window as if pondering, then looked back at Larian.

“I know this,” he said quietly.

“But the nobles you harbor, Zanock, they will do you and your families harm, great harm.”

“Tell me more. Why did they leave the King?”

“They tried to poison a King they claimed to love, but their plot failed and they know if they’re caught they will be executed. Everything they ask is for them, not for you.”

BOOK: The Warrior and the Petulant Princess
12.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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