Don't Forget to Dream (2 page)

Her anxiety slowly eased as she developed a familiarity with the patrons and an understanding of what she could expect each day. She set her boundaries firmly, never giving any individual more attention than another,
keeping conversations short and polite. As her first month ended she actually found she was enjoying her work.

Master Drake enjoyed Rhyla
’
s presence as well.
The
Laughing Willow had always been an Inn for the wealthy merchants, the officers of the guard and young
noblemen;
but after Rhyla
’
s arrival,
the Inn was full every night. She was a hard worker and talked very little. In conjunction with her ex
tremely attractive appearance Master Drake
could have wanted little more in his tavern maid.

He noted early on that she had a powerful effect on his patrons and was not surprised when a few of the more audacious of them drew him aside for a private query. Each enquired as to the availability of Rhyla for personal attention after closing time. He was not surprised by the requests; it was common practice for a tavern maid, and her employer, to earn a little extra from such services. Yet he was astute enough to realise that Rhyla, a naive farm girl, was indeed still a maiden, so convincing her to accept such a change in her employment would require patience. He was confident it could be achieved; where else could she go after all, she had no family to turn to. So in order to keep the young men from dismissing the possibility he quietly informed the enquirers that her maidenhood was still intact, but could be theirs for the right price. Few doubted his word as they too were aware of her virtuous behaviour, but some did doubt his ability to fulfil any proposition.

The effect was similar to setting a pack of dogs about a breeding bitch. Offers came in slowly at first but by the end of her first month
’
s employment it had become a bidding war, with Rhyla none the wiser. At first several merchants and a few officers managed to keep up with the bids but it soon became clear that the noble sons were to fight it out amongst themselves for this trophy.

One such combatant was Lord Tobias Blake, middle son of one of the wealthiest Dukes in all of Calvadia. He was a
man of more than average height with
a dense
,
unruly mop of blond hair
that
he attempted to keep under
control by leaving it long but tying at the nap of his neck with a leather thong. Although not the eldest
son,
he was still set to inher
it a sizeable fortune and lands.
This
in conjunction with his ready and often roguish grin left him one of the most eligible bachelors in Lestran, if not all of Calvadia. He had spent many of his evenings since first seeing Rhyla at the Laughing Willow. On occasion he stopped by to eat but mostly came for the fortified wines and gaming. It did not take long for him to learn of the bidding and to place his ow
n mark.
Rarely
one to be denied anything he desired, it was well beyond the means of the other patrons.

He had enjoyed the evening distractions of many young women, be they serving girls, market wenches or even the occasional daughter of a low ranking noble who thought she had the necessary wiles to entrap him. Few had put up much objection to his interests, until Rhyla that was. She repeatedly avoided his attempts to draw her into any form of conversation and had become more than deft at avoiding his endeavours to place his hands upon her. He could find no fault with her service or her manners but her blatant disregard for his interests had made him more determined to win this prize, at any cost, regardless of Rhyla
’
s opinion. He knew full well he would tire of her company not long after his conquest, he always did, but such a maiden would be worth the coin.

Tobias knew he had placed by far the highest bid; those few who knew of it quietly congratulated him in passing or raised their mugs of ale in silent toast from across the room. He had placed the bid more than a week previously and Master Drake had been more than willing to accept the offer. But his frustration was mounting as his enquiries as to when the transaction would be completed had been met with only vague assurances that he would not have to wait much longer. Rhyla persisted in evading his attempts to draw her aside. He was not a man educated in patience, nor restraint, especially after more than a few mugs of the rich fortified wine in him, as it was one particular evening. Unfortunately Master Drake had been unexpectedly called away for a few days and Lord Tobias would wait no longer.

Joe was as usual busy preparing the meals in the kitchen while Rhyla was running to pour all the drinks and serve the once again crowded Inn. With Master Drake forced to leave them unsupervised at short notice Rhyla was determined to ensure he had no cause for complaint on his return. She watched the flow of customers intently, acknowledging all who arrived and even smiling at those she had come to recognise, pouring and presenting their favoured beverage with prompt attention. None attempted to delay her once they noted her haste in Master Drakes absence, none that is until Lord Tobias
’
impatience and desire had fuelled his infatuation to a violent flame.

Ignorant of her predicament Rhyla deposited another round of wine upon the table for Lord Tobias and his companions. Picking up the coins from the table she thanked them as she always did and turned her attention to the next table. Before she could place the coins safely in her belt pouch Lord Tobias grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him so that she overbalanced. The tray she had been carrying crashed to the floor as he grasped her waist and spun her onto his lap.

“
You are a
coy
little bird, aren
’
t you Rhyla,
”
he began before s
he could even think to struggle.
One strong arm firmly encircled
her waist as the other sought the nap of her neck, tangling fingers in the looseness of her braid.

“
Please sir,
”
was all Rhyla could squeak as her wits completely failed her.

“
Sir!
At
least you know your station if not the correct form of address to a Lord. Do you know who I am?
”
he hissed into her ear before she could begin to push his arm from about her.

“
No my Lord,
”
she corrected herself, hoping the adjustment would suffice
“
please, I do not know you beyond your patronage to the Laughing Willow. Please my Lord, I must get back to work. I will remember your title in the future.
”
Her attempts to dislodge his grasp only resulted in it ti
ghtening about
her waist and his
fin
gers in her hair firmly secured
her head, painfully preventing further movement.

“
That
’
s not good enough. Drake and I made a deal, and tonight I am going to collect on that arrangement,
”
Lord Tobias whispered to her, oblivious to the attention his actions had drawn from his fellow patrons.

“
Master Drake
is away sir. I know of no deal.
”
Rhyla
did not
lie
but the sickening tone of his voice raised fears that she really should know of what he was talking,
“
he has left nothing to be collected.
”

“
Oh but he has,
”
Tobias murmured as he forced her face around to his.
“
You, Rhyla, you are the deal and I am paying most handsomely to introduce you to womanhood. I am sure you will not disappoint.
”

Before he could bring her lips to his, Rhyla swung her hand as hard and as fast as she could.
Patrons had barely lifted their heads at the crashing of the drinks tray
, but the
sound of the impact of a slapping hand
rang across the room and in silence all eyes turned to the grappling couple. Allowing no time for thought, or apology, Rhyla found herself back upon her feet, the neck of her gown gripped in Tobias
’
s fist. With his free hand he caught the side of her face in a fierce backhanded strike that sent her sprawling across the floor.

“
Teasing whore,
”
he bellowed, but Rhyla
’
s ears were ringing from the impact, her watering eyes blurring the figures standing over her. Never before had she felt the violent force of a man, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Comp
rehension was slow in returning.
She attempted to form words.
She could not think of anything to say.
She
did not know if she should plead for mercy or denounce him as a vulgar fool. Before she could even raise herself to her elbows a new figure appeared above her, his sword drawn, its tip carefully placed at Tobias
’
s neck.

“
I think it best you leave
, Tobias, n
ow!
”
The deep voice was quiet but left no room for questioning.

Rhyla
’
s vision cleared enough to see doub
t appear on her assailants face.
It
soon turned to barely
controlled hostility as he glared at
the man now daring to oppose him.
A once brazen Tobias now glanced indigently at the men from his table, snatched up his jacket and  made to depart, giving a kick to a fallen chair
. He spared Rhyla a momentary glance, overflowing with hatred and promises of retribut
ion for his humiliation
as he headed for the door without further comment. His companions swiftly followed, heads lowered.

Releasing the breath she had not realised she held
,
Rhyla levered herself up onto her elbows, attempting to sit up and rearrange the torn edges of her neckline in an attempt at dignity.

“
Sit still a moment.
”
It was a gentle order, from a warm and tender voice.

Around them the silence was complete as every face watched her and her
saviour
intently. A brief glance was all she needed to realise the depth of her humiliation. Pulling her legs back under her skirts she looked up at her rescuer. His black hair fell gently forward but failed to obscure his vibrant blue eyes and strong handsome features, eyes that had caught her breath when she had first looked into them. A touch of colour must have filled her
cheeks;
he smiled as he resheathed his blade before crouching before her.

“
Do you think you can stand?
”
he asked offering his hand. Without thinking she placed her fingers in his. He had the firm grasp and calluses of an experienced swordsman, and the ease at which he lifted her to her feet attributed to the strength long hours of training brings to a man. He guided her to a chair and begged her to sit before pulling another up for
himself
directly in front of her. Gently cradling her chin betwee
n forefinger and thumb he tenderly
turned her head to better examine the welt she knew to be swelling on her cheek.
With a trembling hand she
tried to push him away, but she was met with stiff resistance quickly followed by another warm smile.
“
Martin,
”
he
said taking his eyes from her.
“
A clean damp cloth and a small apple brandy if you would.
”
One of the youn
g men standing not far away
turned towards the kitchen.

“
Please sir,
”
Rhyla was surprised at the frailness of her own voice, regretting not only her physical weaknesses but the effort of speaking only managed to free more blood from her lip. Nevertheless she persisted,
“
don
’
t bother yourself with me. I will take care of this and return to my work.
”

“
Nonsense Rhyla, your lip is split and needs tending.
”

“
But I must clean up this mess; there is no one else to serve with Master Drake away.
”
Rhyla briefly attempted to rise but the effort was futile, not only was she restrained by a gentle hand on her shoulder but the room began to sway before her eyes and she sat back down, covering her eyes with her hand in
the
hope of clearing her vision.

“
Do not fret,
”
he glanced meaningfully around the room taking in all the patrons at once.
“
No one has need for any more ale tonight.
”
A scattered murmur of agreement was quickly followed by quiet but hasty emptying of mugs as the evening
’
s patrons made a peaceful exit. Within minutes Rhyla sat alone with her rescuer and two of his comrades. Briefly she wondered who this man before her was, to have the authority in such a casual comment to clear the Inn so quickly. She did not know if she should just be grateful or scared, not even those of nobility held such sway over men not of their houses. This man wore fine wool if of simple cut and with no embellishment. His belt was worn but his sword well made, carefully maintained and clearly well used. His hands were not only steady as they had held th
e blade but strong and callused.
He
had spent many a long hour working with his sword. Daring to glance up at his face, into those blue eyes, she had great difficulty
believing this man could mean her harm. Soon she realised she had difficulty drawing breath, and it had nothing to do with any physical injury.