Free The Commander's Desire by Jennette Green Page B

she do?
    She took deep, even breaths, trying to
formulate a plan. Perhaps she could check back every day, perhaps
at different times, in order to see if the room was left unlocked
by accident. Perhaps she could break into the armory and steal
weapons at night. She needed three, in order to prepare for her
final battle with the Commander. This plan appealed. Or perhaps she
could pilfer the Commander’s own blade from his chamber in the
middle of the night.
    This last plan appealed the most of all. It
would be a fitting punishment. His blade had ended her brother’s
life. His blade would end his own, as well.
    Elwytha sprang to her feet, plan fully
formed. This very night the Commander’s reckoning for his many sins
would begin.
     
    * * * * *
     
    That evening, Elwytha was again forced to
endure another meal with her betrothed and his knaves. This time,
however, instead of joking about her, they jested the Commander’s
defeat at her hands this afternoon.
    “ Pray, what is this?” the
Prince inquired, his black eyes narrowed and amused. “Tell all,
Commander.”
    “ She’s put a spell on him,”
hooted one man.
    “ Wed her soon, Commander,”
yelled another.
    “ He canna think straight,”
leered the lout at her side. “Nor I. I lose all sens’bilities,
looking at her.” To her horror, the lout edged closer and slurred,
“You’re s’sweet. Favor me w’ a smile, Princess.”
    Oh, for a blade! “Remove yourself from my
presence,” she ordered, flaying him with a cold glare.
    He chuckled and patted her leg. Horror
convulsed through her. Unthinkingly, she jerked sideways, into the
Commander. He looked at her, still scowling from the men’s
jests.
    She shoved the man’s hand off her. “Leave
me,” she hissed. She felt the Commander stiffen, and suddenly he
surged to his feet. The next thing she knew, he had dragged the
lout by the jerkin from the table. The smaller man hung from the
Commander’s fist, feet dangling above the floor.
    “ You would touch my bride?”
The deep rumble bristled with menace.
    Elwytha cringed, waiting for his great fist
to smash into the man’s face. She appealed, “He’s drunk. He knows
not what he does.”
    This testimony did not appear to please her
betrothed. He turned his glare on her and growled, “You would allow
his touch before mine?”
    Dismay speared Elwytha. “I wish neither. But
I don’t want violence done on my behalf. Throw him out. That would
please me.”
    The Commander shoved the drunkard into the
hands of two guards who had appeared. Then he settled his great
form on the bench beside her. He did not look at her.
    “ How valiantly the Commander
defends you, Princess,” the Prince said, clearly mocking. “Have you
captured his heart already?”
    The Commander shoved his dagger into a lump
of meat. “I would defend her honor. Read no more into it.”
    The Prince smiled. “And what of you, Elwytha?
Has the Commander’s valor won your heart?”
    He sported with them both. Coldly, she
returned, “You forget your manners, Prince. It is unseemly to probe
into another’s affairs.”
    “ Then you admit to an
affair. I am pleased you are so well matched.” A smile gleamed from
the Prince.
    Elwytha glared, again itching for a blade.
Instead, she decided to ignore the mocking Prince. Clearly, the
idleness of his mantle left him bored. He wished to annoy others
only to entertain himself.
    The Commander and Prince thereafter spoke of
castle matters, which led to talk of the latest tribute demanded
from the Northumbrian King, Osred.
    “ You will pay it?” the
Commander asked, spearing up a final hunk of meat.
    “ You think I should
not?”
    “ I do not think Osred will
attack us.”
    “ True. He has other things
to occupy his mind.”
    The Commander nodded. “The Picts, to the
north.”
    “ Among other things.” The
monarch sent Elwytha a narrowed glance, as if curbing his tongue
for her sake.
    He needn’t. Sweetly, she said, “His nuns? I
hear he is a