CHAPTER TWELVE
THEY TRAVELED FOR THREE days. Osborn didn’t want to rush their pace, despite Breena’s urge to run.
“At the end of this journey there will be a battle, Breena. We can’t afford to be worn out before the first strike,” he warned.
At night they made love where they camped, their couplings sometimes fierce, sometimes savoring, but always tinged with a touch of desperation. Osborn would hold her long after she fell asleep, staring up at the stars.
“What are you doing?” she’d ask sleepily.
“Willing time to slow.”
Sometime after their noon meal on the third day, he discovered the whereabouts of the outbuilding. Breena gasped when she spotted tents dotting the area and her people milling about—families, soldiers, workers of the castle.
“My people,” she whispered, filled with so much relief and love she could hardly breathe.
“There’s Rolfe,” she nearly shouted, and Breena rushed toward him before Osborn could stop her.
Breena charged across the field with new energy, the breeze lifting her hair and cooling her face. The people working outside stopped to stare, their jaws dropping open in shock and their eyes filling with tears. Her people crowded her, welcoming her.
“Word of my brothers? Has anyone heard anything of them?” she shouted above the din.
But the Eldens continued to rejoice that one of the heirs had been returned to them.
“Rolfe,” she called.
The man turned at the sound of his name. Rolfe had once been an important member of their household, part of the security that guarded her parents. Age had crept over him since she last saw him. He looked drawn and defeated. His eyes grew larger and joy touched the edges of his face when he recognized her. Then his face drained of color.
Guilt. She knew that emotion well.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she rushed to assure him. “How could a small personal force defeat the Blood Sorcerer?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he warned.
How silly for Rolfe to be worried about propriety right now. “Nonsense. These are my people. This is exactly where I belong.”
“How’d you get here?” Rolfe’s gaze searched the crowd, spotting the other newcomer, Osborn. “You—” he pointed “—get her out of here.”
Osborn’s hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword.
The door of the outbuilding opened, and out stepped a man, and the crowd hushed. Breena recognized him as a member of the group who’d once protected Elden’s perimeters. “What’s all this commotion?” he shouted. It was a loud booming voice coming from someone so gaunt.
Instantly the Eldens began to shrink away and cower.
“Why are you yelling when all they are doing is enjoying the day?” she asked, her voice stern.
“Cedric has been, uh, leading the people.”
Breena suppressed a shudder. Cedric had always seemed a particularly nasty sort, but then war made strange allies, and she glanced at Osborn. He was scanning the crowd, his hand remaining on his weapon.
“Sometimes a little force is needed to quiet and keep things orderly. You understand, I’m sure.”
No, she didn’t understand.
“I want no more of it. These people are scared. They’ve lost loved ones and fear for what’s in the future. We need no more strife and anger.”
Cedric’s lips curled over his teeth in what she supposed was to be a smile. It looked more like a snarl.
“Thank you for all that you’ve accomplished, Cedric. Your deeds will not go unnoticed,” she added. And warned.
Osborn stepped forward. “Tell me your resources.”
Cedric stiffened, as if he was about to argue, then his gaze took in the strength and breadth of Osborn’s shoulders, and the massive sword at his hip.
“Nicolai is gathering a vast force in the south.”
The joy and relief of hearing that news almost made her double over. “My brother is alive?”
Cedric nodded. “Dayn, too. He’s leading an army, as well. Word is the Blood Sorcerer’s hold on Elden is already weakening. These will be our lands again,” he said, loud enough for the entire crowd to hear.
A great cheer sounded, and Breena understood why they followed Cedric. Perhaps her first impression of him was wrong. Times of trouble could often bring out character in a person, and add inner strength. With her, it brought out a fighter.
Cedric’s glance fell to Osborn. “Thank you for escorting the princess back to her homeland. You will be greatly rewarded for your troubles. Rolfe, bring me the gold we’d set aside. We feared if you’d been captured, we’d have to pay a ransom.”
She glanced at Osborn, whose eyes had narrowed, his stance on alert.
“I’ll have you escorted away from here in a few moments. I’m sure you can’t wait to be on your way. There’s a village half a day’s walk to the east. I’m sure you’re anxious to spend your coin.”
“You’re confusing Osborn for a mercenary,” she told him. “He didn’t bring me here for a reward.”
“But you are a mercenary, aren’t you?”
Osborn nodded slowly.
Rolfe returned with a purse heavy with gold. Cedric grabbed the bag and tossed it at Osborn, who caught it against his chest.
She glanced toward her warrior but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. His stare was locked on the man who’d just called him a mercenary.
Cedric grabbed the shoulder of a passing boy. “Fetch Asher and Gavin.” Cedric met Osborn’s stare. “They’re our two best soldiers. They’ll escort you off Elden lands immediately.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “Of course Osborn is staying.”
“Are you staying, mercenary? With a princess?” His question was more of a sneer. Cedric was making Osborn sound like an opportunist. One only out for himself.
Her stomach began to tense. “Osborn?”
“She’s with her people now. Two great armies are on their way. There’s no reason for you to be here.”
Tense silence stretched between them. This was so very silly. She opened her mouth to tell—
“No. There’s no reason for me to stay.”
“What?” she asked, hurt and confused. This had to be a strategy, some kind of ruse Osborn employed to test the security.
“Here come our soldiers now,” Cedric announced, his voice betraying his delight.
“I’ll have a word in private with my mercenary,” she informed them all.
Cedric looked like he wanted to argue, but then bowed his head in acquiescence.
Osborn followed her to a tree away from Cedric and Rolfe. “What’s your plan?” she asked.
Her warrior scrubbed his hand down his face. “Walk back home. Train my brothers.”
She felt sick. “You really are leaving?”
Osborn angled his head around camp. “They seem to have everything in order here. Your brothers are coming.”
“And you’re just leaving me here?”
His nod was her answer.
“But…but you’re my warrior. You belong with me.”
He gripped her arms. “You’ve built me up in your mind, made me something I’m not. You’ve made me into one of your fairy-tale heroes.” His dark eyes burned into hers. “But I’m just a man. A man who wanted you any way he could have you.”
“Like a soul mate?”
At least that sounded romantic.
But Osborn the warrior only shook his head. “I don’t believe in soul mates. I don’t believe in anything but pleasure and passion.”
Her body began to tremble. She didn’t want to look at him. “I’ve just been fooling myself that you care, haven’t I?”
Osborn swallowed and his gaze clashed with hers. He looked like he wanted to argue with her words. Please argue. Please tell me I’m wrong.
“We’ve enjoyed each other. Now it’s over.”
Breena would not cry in front of this man. She would not cry over him. Ever. “Go,” she told him, turning her back.