Leogane glanced over his shoulder to see the princess and her maid riding behind him in silence. Mirabella avoided looking at him, just watched straight ahead as men rode on either side of the ladies and others followed behind. The trail was wider here but would narrow way up ahead. Three more knights scouted up ahead, while two rode in front of Leogane, ever vigilant in watching for an ambush. He had no doubt whoever had sent men to attack them before, would do so again, but he was certain, they would be careful not to injure the princess.

  Justina’s gaze caught his, then she looked over at her mistress, and back to Leogane. He wondered then how long the girl had served the princess. What secrets could she tell him? Once they stopped for the night, he would question her thoroughly. In the meantime, he would question Mirabella. “Ride up with me, princess!” Leogane commanded.

  She kicked her horse to a canter and joined him, refusing to look his way.

  Her action both amused and annoyed him. He studied the tilt of her proud chin and of her royal bearing, wondering for the first time why she’d been locked away at the isolated Castle Mayden. Except for a small guard force, and a smaller number of servants, the naturally well-fortified castle and grounds were not used for anything else that he could see, but to house one ill-tempered princess. Nobody seemed to like her, which was evident in the way her guards handled her, and even the woman in charge of her seemed to despise the princess, only wishing to maintain her position as her guardian a while longer for appearance sake, no doubt. Which confirmed Mirabella was a terror.

  Why hide her away? Was it to keep her out of the clutches of greedy men, none of whom the king wanted her to wed? With her contemptible disposition, she would find no husband who would give her room to act poorly toward the staff, if the man had any backbone at all. Certainly, he wouldn’t permit her to give his staff any grief and would lock her in a tower if she said one unkind word to the lowest of his servants.

  “Why were you living at Mayden Castle?” he asked, stifling the correct protocol to call her princess. Her kind hadn’t earned the privilege of their class. As a knight before he’d been crowned king, he’d learned to be chivalrous and kind to those who were in need. He couldn’t quash the contempt he felt for her, and every other woman or man like her who used their title and privilege to their advantage, hurting those who served them in the process.

  She didn’t answer him.

  Unused to insubordination, he was having a devil of a time remembering he was a knight as well as a king, and that he needed to keep his temper in check. Despite this, he growled, “Answer me now!”

  She tilted her chin up higher and pursed her lips.

  Grabbing her reins, he pulled her horse to a stop. “Would you prefer walking?” Not that he wanted her to walk. They would never get anywhere, and he imagined she'd blister her feet and be a mess. But maybe walking would knock some of the willfulness out of her.

  She glared at him; her brown eyes flickered with a red-hot flame. “You can bully me all you like, Your Grace,” she hissed. “But know this, there is only one man I fear and it is my uncle. So do your worse.” She whipped her head around and stared straight ahead.

  For a moment, Leogane glowered at her in stunned silence. He had no idea what to say to her. No one spoke in such a manner to him. Come to think of it, not even his enemies when captured would speak to him thus. The idea grated on him that she was right. There was very little he could do to her to make her talk. But he wondered, as fearless as she appeared, and it didn't seem to be a show, why she would fear her uncle.

  Leogane released her reins and motioned for her to continue walking her horse beside him. “If you think you will anger me enough to give you up to Vladek, think again.”

  She glanced at him, her look bewildered.

  Instantly, he wondered why he’d even said what he did, now having no intention of making the witch his wife.

  Once they’d gone a short distance into the Larimar Forest, Mirabella tightened her hands around her reins, making her knuckles turn white. Her face lost all its color, and her brown eyes searched for signs of something in the surrounding woods.

  He hadn’t heard or seen anything, nor had his men indicated anything was the matter. “What ails you? Did you hear or see anything amiss?” he asked, wondering if she was afraid of the woods.

  “I’ve…I’ve never traveled through this forest before. I…I hear all kinds of strange sounds.”

  He gave a short bark of laughter to which she responded with a sharp glance of resentment. “Sorry, my lady,” he said, mocking the prim, proper princess who’d never ventured out of the castle, too afraid to muddy the hems of her gowns, he suspected. “I hadn’t realized you’d never left the grounds of your castle.”

  “I have never left the tower,” she replied curtly, her blond brows furrowed, her mouth pinched in annoyance.

  He laughed again. “Worse even still.” Then he studied her, though she quickly turned her face away. “You are not one of those souls who are afraid to venture beyond your chamber, are you?” He’d heard of people like that, who were so mortified of what lay beyond their room, they lived and died there, never having ventured forth their entire lives. He could not have a wife like that, who would need to help run his staff, and keep the castle in good order when he and his men went to battle.

  “Why would you desire to wed me when you know so little about me?” she asked.

  “I do not desire to wed you.”

  The scowl returned to her face, and she looked away, but her question made him think she hadn’t had a choice about staying in her chamber. Had her uncle worried men would gain access to her, if she hadn’t been well hidden away? On the other hand, was it that she’d tried to escape her uncle’s rule?

  Now that created new lumps in his porridge. If the lady was that willful…

  Again, he shook his head, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this mess. “Why, pray tell, did you stay in your chamber?” He might as well ask, though he was not sure he would hear the truth when she gave him her version.

  At first, she didn’t answer, and he knew she was testing his resolve again, but then she turned her ear toward the north, and he thought he heard something too. Something ominous. Like before when he and his men had been attacked.

  A flock of birds flew into the trees from the same direction, and Leogane shouted, “Form a circle around the women!” His heart thundered against his ribs as he pulled his sword from its scabbard. He was not afraid for himself or his men, but he worried about having the women in their midst. It could make fighting more difficult.

  “What is it?” Mirabella asked.

  “We were attacked by men three times on the journey here. I believe they were some of Count Vladek’s men.”

  “How could you say such a thing? Accuse an innocent man of wrongdoing just—”

  “Silence, woman!”

  Blinking her eyes, she stared at him.

  “They wore a crest on the tunics covering their chain mail. ‘Twas the same as what my people said Vladek wore when he visited your uncle.”

  She licked her lips and swallowed hard.

  He wasn’t sure she believed him, and truly, he shouldn’t have cared. It bothered him just the same that she would defend this Count Vladek whom she didn’t know, according to her uncle. Unless…

  Unless the villain had sneaked into the castle to see her before.

  He couldn’t think of that now, as his men circled around them. Leogane stayed close to the women, watching for any signs of an ambush.

  For what seemed like an eternity, no one moved. The princess’s horse nickered softly, one of his men’s horses snorted and pawed the ground uneasily, but it was Mirabella’s face that revealed the first of the onslaught. Her eyes grew big, her lips quavered and she opened her mouth to cry out well before the enemy was even in sight. He didn’t have any time to dwell on her strange actions as fifty or sixty men charged them, wearing black tunics emblazoned with a blood red rose.

  As before, the men were good, but not strong enough for his men. It was like they were unused to battling on horseback, unlike his men who jousted when not in battle, and fought on their horses unless they were unseated. They’d grown up in the saddle, and every one of them fought as valiantly as before, delving blow after blow, swords clanking, horses prancing, and charging, circling and backing up, decimating the enemies’ larger force.

  Their enemies’ faces were shielded by helmets, and again, Leogane wondered if any of these men were Vladek, though he assumed the count waited in hiding, expecting his men to deliver the princess to him instead, the coward that he was.

  Leogane held his position in the inner circle, wanting to help his fellow knights fight the enemy, but forcing himself to remain beside the women in case any of the enemy broke through the outer circle.

  The only method that seemed to kill the enemy was lopping off their heads; cuts to the arms or legs didn’t slow them down much and attempting to penetrate their chain mail to reach their hearts was nigh to impossible. Yet, one of his greatest lancers had taken a lance and speared one of their enemy in an earlier battle and successfully killed the brigand. And an archer had managed to pierce the chainmail covering a knight’s chest with a crossbow’s bolt.

  When the last of the men lay dead, and his own men raised their swords in triumph, Leogane looked over at Mirabella and saw her face as gray as granite.

  “They’re not real,” she said, her voice hushed.

  “They’re very real,” Leogane assured her, and motioned for one of his knights to remove the helmet from a decapitated head.

  When the knight lifted the helmet off the ground, a pile of dust poured out.

  “What the…” Leogane stared at the empty helm. “Check the rest.”

  Not only had the heads disappeared, the bodies themselves had disintegrated into dust.

  “Magic users,” one of the men said, cursing. His brown eyes hot with hatred, he turned to Leogane. “Black magic.”

  “They’re not dead,” Mirabella whispered, tears clogging her throat.

  “They’re dead,” Leogane reassured her, hoping to stay his men’s concerns as well. He didn’t need panic on his hands. They’d never bothered to check the other men they’d killed, leaving them for their lord to recover and bury, not wishing to delay their journey in the inhospitable woods.

  “They’re dead,” he said again, and motioned for his men to move out. “Are you going to be all right, Princess?”

  She nodded, but she didn’t look well.

  “A cottage is located a couple of miles ahead. A healer’s hut. We’ll stop there and you ladies can rest.” Though he wished it not, as the stop would delay their journey overmuch.

  “Thank you,” she said, but the fight was no longer in her words, and he wondered if the lady truly was a recluse and the journey and fighting were too much for her. He’d never considered she might die on the journey, too frail to manage.

  “Have you ever met this Count Vladek?” he asked, hoping to get her mind off the battle, if that’s what still distressed her.

  She stared at him with the oddest look, as if she didn’t quite know the answer to his question. Was she in shock?

  “Princess Mirabella, have you ever personally met the man at Castle Mayden?”

  She shook her head and pulled her gaze away from his.

  However, there was something she wasn’t telling him, something that bothered her, and subsequently bothered him more than anything. What was she hiding?

  6

  Rina had wanted to join Leogane in the battle against the dark arts knights, but she was having her own fight while she’d been trying to slip in to tell the king she was Mirabella’s protector. Ten men against one warrior elf? No trouble. She'd leapt off her horse and commanded him to run away as soon as she'd heard the men on horseback coming and she'd been caught between the forces that were attacking the king's men and the ones still coming. She didn’t send Midnight back home, not just yet. Just out of range of the dark arts knights, their hideous faces masked. They'd been conjured up by a dark arts druid. She knew because she'd fought them before. And that time, she'd even killed the druid. Well, and two more times she’d had to deal with them—terminally, but it wasn’t necessary to tell about all her heroics.

  Thankfully, her magical ability had worked. But she'd had to catch them off-guard. Some called her the "Dark Arts Druid Slayer," but she detested the name. It made it sound as though that's all she did. Like being a dragon slayer. She was a warrior and with that came all kinds of responsibilities. Not just killing a few dark arts druids who threatened elf kind.

  She blended into the tree bark when another knight tried to skewer her. His sword missed her by inches, but he couldn't see or hear her. She just hadn't moved away from her position quickly enough when she had cloaked herself in the appearance of the bark. Then she leapt into the air with her sword raised, landing on the back of the man's steed, and cut off the knight’s head. Who said she should fight fair? There were still five against, well, four against one warrior elf.

  His helmet fell to the ground, no body, just dust left behind as she shoved the rest of his armor and clothes off his horse and swung around to decapitate another of the knights. Once she'd beheaded him, she leaned down against the horse, hugging his neck and the beautiful black mane that whipped about in the breeze, another of the knights staring at the riderless horse, appearing puzzled. As soon as the knight was close enough to the horse, she rose up and swung her sword at him, beheading yet another of the knights. Three more to go. They were as persistent as she was at finishing the job.

  Two came at her then, and she slid off to the side of the horse, blending in so they couldn't see her. They both swung their swords over the body of the horse, having no idea where she was, but assuming she was hiding on his back like she'd done before. Give her some credit! Once nothing happened, they watched the horse for what seemed an eternity, when she wanted to go to the princess's aid. But she figured she was already doing that by eliminating more of the dark art knights before they even reached Leogane's men.

  Once the knights began to move off, probably assuming she had left the scene or was mortally wounded or dead, she moved back into the saddle and rode after the closest knight, beheaded him, and swiftly took after the other. He swung around, ready to kill her, but she had more important things to do and today wasn't her day to die. She struck his sword against hers, sending a metal clanking sound reverberating through the woods. She was torn about alerting Leogane's men that she was fighting the dark arts knights—if they saw what she could do—maybe they’d believe her useful, but what if they thought she was just as dangerous as the knights fighting Leogane's men?

  But she couldn't fight this dark arts knight like she wanted to. She couldn't lop off his head like she’d tried to do. She realized she was getting tired. Then a bolt flew through the air, whizzing past her head and struck the dark knight in the back. Then another winged through air striking his helmed head. The archer wasn’t fighting fair either, but against the dark arts creatures, anything that would take them down was the right way to do this.

  The dark arts knight fell from his horse and landed on the ground, and Leogane's knightly archer pointed his crossbow in her direction. Yet there was one more dark arts knight who was unaccounted for.

  She considered—vanishing. But then she wouldn't be able to use her ability in a more elusive way. She didn't like to give up her secrets to just anyone. They might fear she was just as dangerous as the dark arts knights were. Then again—she glanced around at the knights she'd dispatched—she was.

  “We are fighting the same enemy,” she said, trying not to sound annoyed that he was threatening her.

  "Who are you, and why are you here?" the knight asked.

  "I am Rina, a warrior elf, cousin to Dracolin, Warrior Chief of the shadow elves.” Most elves knew of him and respected him, so it didn’t hurt to use his title to elevate her own. “I’m here to protect Princess Mirabella." She motioned to the remnants of clothes and armor on the ground. "As you can see, I have done so. Who are you?"

  "Artur, knight champion and archer, protector of the innocent and meek, King Leogane's trusted champion, and a friend of Dracolin’s."

  She arched a brow. She’d never heard of Artur before. Not that she made many courtly appearances, and certainly in the line of work she did, she rarely got to see Dracolin, so she had no idea who some of his friends were.

  “He has never mentioned you,” Artur said.

  She smiled. “He has never mentioned he knows you either.” So we’re even, she wanted to say. "Well, Artur, take me to your leader then."

  "You may not like what he has to say."

  She sighed. "Take me or leave me. I will fight these dark arts knights on my own and protect all of you then."

  Artur thought the warrior elf was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He'd watched her behead the knight—what had she called it? A dark arts knight?—and readied herself to fight the last of the knights when he had dispatched the man, or whatever it was, for her instead. He couldn't let her have all the fun. Besides, some part of his knightly persona called on him to be chivalrous and save the woman, even if she hadn't needed saving. Still, how could he know that she hadn’t needed his help? She had already slain most of the villains and one mistake could have cost her life. He didn't want to think that he did it to prove to her how good an archer he was though.

  He couldn't see how she could eliminate so many of them, all on her own, just one lone warrior elf. He knew they were powerful, or at least he had heard wild tales about them, and thought they were just the stuff of legends. To actually witness one in combat, that was a real sight. But was she here to protect the princess or were her intentions other than honorable? She hadn't come to them before this to offer her services. She hadn't been at the castle protecting the princess there. Rina was an—enigma—to his way of thinking.