Read Daughters of the Dagger 03 - Amber Online
Authors: Elizabeth Rose
“I’m here by myself, and they are leaving because I’ve dismissed them. They’re no longer needed. And in the trunks are my clothes and things I’ll need while I’m here.”
“With the size of those trunks, you almost look as if you’re planning to stay for awhile,” he said with a laugh. “Just like a woman, I suppose. But tell me, how will you get back? The roads are too dangerous to travel by yourself, unescorted. Is someone else coming to meet you to travel back to Blackpool?”
She laughed and handed the wine to her uncle. “I am not leaving, Uncle Clement. I’m here to stay for a long while.”
He looked at her with confusion on his brow. “What do you mean?”
“I’m here to help you. As your assistant.”
“Amethyst, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve sent word to the archbishop of Canterbury, and he is finding me an assistant to replace mine who died last week when he fell from the scaffold and broke his neck. The man he sends should be here any day now.”
“He’s here now. It’s me!”
“You make no sense.” Clement took a swig of wine and handed the flask back to her.
“I told the archbishop how much this would mean to me,” she explained excitedly, “and that I’ve worked with you before. I told him I wanted to come here. So he sent me for now, until he can find you a proper replacement.”
“That’s impossible, sweetheart. He would never send a woman – not for this position and not to work for Earl Marcus Montclair.”
“But it’s true, I tell you.” She dug into her pouch at her waist and found the missive with the archbishop’s seal and handed it to him. “See for yourself.”
Her uncle took the missive and inspected the seal, running a weary finger over the wax. “This is the archbishop’s seal all right. But I can’t open this. If what you say is true, the earl will need to open it, because he will never believe it. And if the seal is broken, you will have no chance in hell of staying.”
“What do you mean?” she asked with a giggle. “Won’t the earl believe you?”
“I don’t want to scare you, Amethyst, but the earl is a border lord.”
“I know that.”
“He is tough and demanding and has no patience for incompetence and holds no pity for anyone, even if it was his own mother.”
“Oh, now no one can be that hardened,” said Amethyst with a shake of her head.
“You don’t understand. He is unforgiving. He is ruthless and takes pleasure in protecting the borders for the king.”
“I know. The archbishop told me. He is skilled at his position and that’s why the king has rewarded him with the title of earl and also granted him the opportunity to build his own castle. I understand all this.”
“Well obviously if the archbishop sent you, he must know what he’s doing. But I am afraid he didn’t tell you everything you need to know about the man you’ll be working for, Amethyst.”
“Well what else could there possibly be? I already know he is more or less a slave driver by the way he works you, and that he is merciless and cruel. But that doesn’t scare me. You know I don’t scare easily. I’m a hard and determined worker. I also try to see the good in everyone and turn a negative situation into something positive.”
“I know that, Amethyst. But even your optimism isn’t going to change this. Lord Montclair will never let you work as my assistant. You can weave baskets for the workers or cook their food or mend their wounds, but those are the only jobs here held by women.”
“And why is that?” she asked.
“Because Lord Marcus will treat his hounds better than he will you, darling. You see, he has no respect for women. And he would never let a woman be in a position of authority. Unless, perhaps she were his wife. But he’s never been married, nor do I believe he ever will.”
“Really?” She took the missive back from her uncle. “Well, mayhap I can do something to change his mind about respecting women.”
“Master Mason!” came a loud bellow from behind them. Her uncle turned quickly and then looked back to her and shook his head.
“Well, this is your big chance,” he told her, “as here comes the earl now. And by the sound of his bellow, I can assure you he is not happy.”
Excerpt from
Lord of Illusion
:
(Legacy of the Blade, Book 3)
Abbey rode her steed hard through the woods, branches scratching her skin and tearing at her traveling clothes. Still, she did not care. One glance over her shoulder told her she was yet to be followed. But when she looked a second time, a rider on horseback approached her, gaining on her quickly. In her carelessness, she misdirected her horse and it reared up, causing her to fall from her sidesaddle to the hard ground far below.
The rider came up behind her and two strong arms pulled her to her feet.
“Nay!” she shouted, pushing him away, “I won’t go with you to marry that ogre.”
That’s when she realized he wasn’t a guard at all, but rather the old man in the road who’d robbed them.
“Let go of me,” she cried, and in her struggles the man’s hood slipped from his head. Though he had a beard and eyebrows of nearly white, the hair on his head was dark as a starless night.
“Hold still,” the man ground out - a young man’s voice slipping from his lips instead of the old crackly voice she’d heard on the road.
“You are not an old man,” she accused him. “You are an imposter. Who are you?”
Madoc ap Powell looked at the beautiful woman before him, demanding his name as if he would really tell her.
“Who are
you
?” he asked in return.
“I am Lady Abigail of
Blackmore,” she retorted. “And I demand you release me.”
“You, my lady, are the one who alerted the guards to my actions and almost got me killed.” She was a feisty wench, he’d give her that. And twice as observant as any of the guards.
“They
will
kill you,” she said. “Just as soon as they follow - which will be at any moment now.”
“Nay, my lady. That is where you are wrong. For at this moment they are fighting off a band of marauders who are headed in the opposite direction. I sincerely doubt they’ve even noticed you are missing.”
“So you set up an attack and now you come for me?”
“I had naught to do with the attack. I work on my own. I just happened upon the opportunity before they did, that’s all.”
“Work?” she mimicked the word he’d used. “Hah. I sincerely doubt you have ever worked an honest day in your life. And I do not like to be referred to as an opportunity.”
Once again she was very observant, although he
had
worked at an honest job for a few years of his life. But he’d seen where honest work had gotten him when he’d ended up in the dungeon. Nay, what he did now was the better of the choices, and also what his mother had taught him to do from childhood.
He took a sheep bladder filled with water from his side, and splashed it upon his face to rid himself of his disguise. The white powder in his beard and mustache washed out, leaving it as dark as the hair on his head. The powder in his eyebrows followed. He gave a sharp intake of breath at the coldness on his skin, then took a swig of the water and offered her some.
“Nay,” she said, turning her head, and when she tried to walk away, he realized her gown had caught on a branch.
“Well, Lady Abigail, I see your escape is foiled. You are caught not only by me but also by the guardians of nature.”
“I wasn’t trying to escape!” she exclaimed.
When she looked back up to him, he couldn’t help but notice her bea
uty. A few years younger than himself, she seemed to be mayhap one and twenty summers. Her hair was golden silk, spun from the faeries of the forest themselves. Her eyes blue – deep blue – and clear like that of a midsummer’s night sky. And her skin was alabaster and looked soft and supple.
“Well I am glad to hear you were not trying to escape,” he told her. “Because then you’ll be willing to come with me when I return you for a reward.”
Excerpt from
The Sword and the Sylph
, Book 3
– Air
(Elemental Series)
Portia watched from the shadows of the great hall in her invisible form. She’d have much to report back to the Countess Odillia now. And if she was to make it back up the mountain in time to warn them of the attack, she had to leave anon.
She watched Sir Braden as he walked right past her, slowing down slightly, and if she wasn’t mistaken, sniffing the air and glancing from the corner of his eyes in her direction. Then he disappeared down the hall and was followed by Lord Solomon, the captain of the guard, and Lady Christabel as well.
She surveyed the lady of the castle as the woman glided past her down the corridor. She couldn’t stop thinking of the way Sir Braden had dropped to his knee and kissed her hand. He was so gallant and chivalrous and she would have welcomed the kind gesture. Instead, this woman all but shunned him. She didn’t deserve the likes of Sir Braden. She didn’t deserve anyone for that matter.
She hurried out to the courtyard and slipped through the gate, heading to where she’d left her horse tied to a tree hidden in the forest. When she was sure no one was looking, she materialized and put her foot in the stirrup to climb atop her steed. A strong arm on her shoulder and a low voice from behind her made her stop in mid-motion.
“I thought I’d find you here. Now tell me, Portia-Maer, just what is it you think you’re doing?”
She turned to look directly into the blue eyes of Sir Braden. But this time his eyes were not dancing with excitement. Now they were clouded over and disappointment shadowed them as well.
“I demand you release me at once.”
“I cannot do that, my little fae one. As a matter of fact, I’m going to have to take you back to Lord Solomon.”
“How do you know I’m of fae blood? And why would you do such a thing as to take me to a man who would not think twice of hanging me at the crossroads to die as an example to others?”
“Oh, so it seems someone has overheard our private conversation. And you have just confirmed my suspicions that you are the spy that’s been giving information to the Earl of Calila as well.”
“The earl is
my father,” she told him. “I would do anything at all to help him, even if it meant my death.”
“Your father?” His hand loosened his grip on her shoulder and he slowly brought it back to his waist. “You mean to tell me you live at Castle Calila? ’Tis your family that is fighting Lord Solomon and his men?”
“’Tis not that way, not really. Now tell me, how did you know I was here if you could not see me?”
“Your scent of lilacs gives you away every time, sweetheart. And I’d venture to guess that one of your fae powers is turning invisible is it not?”
“You’ve already seen the proof of that, so why do you need to ask?”
“What else can you do? And are you called a dryad like your friend Rae-Nyst? She can command the vines and trees to do her bidding. Can you do that as well?” He looked around cautiously, hand on his sword, as if he thought the vines of the forest were about to attack him.
“I am not a dryad, you simpleton, I am a sylph! A dryad is an elemental of the earth. I am an elemental of the air and everything that goes with it.”
“I see. A sylph. Interesting title I must say.” He nodded his head and swept his eyes over her from head to toe. She felt suddenly very insecure and lowered her gaze to the ground under his wanton perusal.
Braden drank in the beauty of the girl who’d just called herself a sylph. Such an odd title for an odd girl. But naught about her was common. Her hair was like spun cornsilk, long and flowing, lifting around her in the breeze. It was such a light honeyed color that it almost seemed to him as if it were silver. Her lips were full and pink, her eyes dark blue like mountain bilberries. And her skin looked soft and smooth, and so pale that the noblewomen would envy her for the appearance that they strived so hard to attain.
She wore a thin silken gown of white and light blue with tight fitting sleeves and long flowing tippets hanging down from her elbows. And around her head was a woven wreath of small dainty flowers of yellow and white making her look like a Queen of the Fae people. She smelled liked the fresh air after a spring rain mixed with the scent of lilacs that clung to her wherever she went. She said she was an elemental of the air, and to him that described her well. She was light and airy, breezy and fresh. Her essence called out to him whether she knew it or not, making him feel more alive than he’d felt in years.
“Now, let me go,” she said. Her clear, deep blue eyes begged though her words were calculated and cool. How could anyone be frightened of such a gentle girl? She looked as if she needed a strong man to protect her, and he couldn’t believe she’d do anyone harm.
“I will make a deal with you,” he said instead. “You get me into Castle Calila without anyone knowing why I’m there, and I won’t expose you to Lord Solomon as the spy he’s been trying to hunt down and kill.”
“But you mean to be a part of attacking my father’s castle,” she protested.