The Harbinger (A Fight for Light Novel Book 2) Page 11

  “Welcome Lord Baylor. A pleasure to meet you,” I answered, certain that some kind of comment was needed after an introduction so specific.

  I nodded my head in his direction as he approached. He lifted my right hand and brought it to his lips, touching the surface of my skin with the softest kiss, and then dropped it as his eyes met mine.

  “A pleasure that is entirely mine, I assure you,” he answered as his deep rich voice seemed to wash right over me. Or was that the wine?

  I saw Kellen stiffen next to me. Was my reaction obvious? I blushed, feeling chastised by Kellen and embarrassed with Lord Baylor’s attentions.

  The meal began to arrive, platters stacked high with roasted boar, pheasant, chicken, venison, and a whole pig. Pastries, in sweet and savory, roasted vegetables, and dozens of loaves of freshly baked bread began to fill the tables. Serving wenches filled goblets and tankards with mead, ale, wine, and other refreshments.

  I took my place at the center of the table, feeling a hand at the small of my back as I lowered to my seat. I looked up, expecting to see Kellen, but instead met the steady stare of Baylor. He grinned beneath the bandana and took the seat to my immediate right. Kellen took the left, glaring straight across from me into Baylor’s eyes.

  “Gentlemen, I should like to enjoy a nice meal. Please be civil, there is plenty of time to prove yourselves during the remainder of the tournament,” I reminded them, bestowing my best smile on them both.

  Baylor winked at me while Kellen continued to scowl. He was jealous of course.

  “Tell me, milady, what is your favorite dish?” Baylor asked, expertly diverting my attention from Kellen.

  “I’ve become quite fond of the pastries, Lord Baylor. Their unique flavor and texture is delicious,” I informed him.

  He raised a brow. “I would have expected you to say the sorbet. Have you tried it yet?” He leaned closer, lowering his voice, as if discussing pastry and desserts meant secrecy. Or intimacy.

  I met his gaze. The dark orbs held me, immobile, within his close proximity. I hiccupped, at exactly the wrong moment. My hand shakily set the goblet down on the table.

  “Excuse me,” I told him as I blushed again. Or maybe I hadn’t stopped blushing. My cheeks were flushed. It must be, had to be, and certainly was, the wine.

  He rose as I stood and took my arm, which was good because I nearly tripped. “Milady? Are you all right?” I noticed the slight frown on his face.

  “I think I drank too much wine,” I giggled. I couldn’t help it.

  He led me by my elbow out of the tent, escorting me to the facilities. Once I had straightened and relieved myself, I walked unsteadily up to him. Kellen was nowhere to be found. Did he not follow me?

  Lord Baylor took my elbow again, preventing a very ungraceful tumble into the grass. “I think we should go for a walk.”

  “Where’s Kellen?” I asked.

  “Detained,” he replied quickly and led me through the trees, away from the tent.

  I stumbled and fell against him, my hand landing in the center of his chest as he caught me. A low chuckle tumbled from his lips. “As much as I enjoy your closeness, I think this is hardly appropriate milady.”

  Interesting, because he did not release me. The world was spinning. Was I drunk? How many glasses of that wine did I have? Four? Five? And on an empty stomach.

  “My head is spinning,” I answered, laying my head against his chest.

  His arms encircled me, holding me close, and then he lifted me. Cradled in his strong arms I let my head fall to his shoulder. “You should lie down for a bit. It’s more than the wine. You are overheated from the sun.”

  “Now that you mention it…I don’t feel so good,” I whispered.

  He walked briskly, for several minutes, leading me into that same cave as before, and entered the cool darkness. I might have protested if I had my sensibilities in order, but I did not. The flush seemed to be getting worse and my throat was parched.

  “Lord Baylor…” I said his name weakly.

  “Milady, Rhiannon…you need to rest and drink plenty of water. Stay with me. Don’t fall asleep yet,” he ordered as he lay me down on a soft thick blanket.

  In the darkness he lit a match and then a small fire but moved me away from the flames. I was grateful for that. His hand rest against my forehead for a moment. “Heat exhaustion. Lie still.”

  A few seconds later he was tipping a canteen to my lips. Cool water ran down my throat. I drank for a long time until it was nearly empty. I caught the frown on his face as he helped me lay back against something soft. His cloak?

  I must have passed out. I opened my eyes, glancing around the quiet interior of the cave. Was he gone? Did he leave me?

  “Lord Baylor?” I whispered, my throat still parched and dry.

  “I’m here,” I heard him respond, “There’s more water for you.”

  He helped me sit up, one arm behind my back, and held the canteen as I drank more of the cool water. It was laced with something. Rum? Brandy? I wasn’t sure.

  His hand went to my forehead again. “You feel less hot than before.” He held me close, his eyes meeting mine. “How do you feel?”

  “Better, milord. Less flushed,” I admitted.

  “Call me Bae. No more of this Lord Baylor nonsense,” he directed me as he tilted my chin up so he could get a better view of my face. “I prefer to hear you say my name.”

  He looked at me intently. Waiting. Oh. He must want me to say it.

  “Sure…Bae,” I indulged him, “if you will remove that ridiculous bandana so I can see who you really are. It’s only fair.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed, untying and removing it.

  I don’t know what I expected. An average man? Someone scarred? A flaw of some kind? Why else would he hide his looks?

  Lord Baylor, Bae, was the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. My eyes widened. I thought Kellen was good looking, but he was average compared to Bae. A strong straight nose, full lips, perfect white teeth, and a five o’clock shadow that made him dashing in the low light. Wow.

  It must have shown on my face because he chuckled deeply and pulled me closer in to him. One hand cupped the back of my head. His eyes locked onto mine. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he informed me, lowering his lips to mine.

  I didn’t move. Not an inch. I let him kiss me and I enjoyed every single blissful second he pressed his luscious lips to mine. Dear God, what was the matter with me? I was in love with Kellen, and yet, here I was, absolutely thrilled to be in Bae’s arms.

  When he leaned back, his eyes were soft and dark, ebony pools of liquid night, and I only wanted to get lost inside them, as he seemed to be with me. My hands were pressed against his chest. I could feel the strong muscular hardness of him beneath my fingertips. My breath was quick and shallow. An immediate response.

  Being near him made me weak. I was infected by the intoxicating drug of his presence. He made me feel emotions deep inside, feelings that should not be there. He was a stranger. I knew nothing about him, and yet, I could not deny that an attraction, a connection was there.

  “I love Kellen.” The words fell from my lips in a desperate attempt to right my tilting and crazy world.

  He smiled. “Is that so?” His head lowered until he was only an inch from my lips.

  “Yes,” I answered but I did not sound very convincing.

  “Rhiannon,” he said my name like a caress and I melted. His lips lowered to mine again, soft, light, sweet. His right hand remained behind my head, keeping me from pulling away but it was a gentle pressure. I could have pulled away if I wanted…and I clearly did not. His other hand rose to brush along my cheek as he continued to kiss me.

  “Bae,” I whispered, breathless.

  He continued to stare into my eyes, his fingers kept their caress along my cheek. He looked so invested, so determined, and so…loving. I gasped.

  What?

  I jumped to my feet and backed away, bumping against t
he wall. How? How could he feel so strongly for me? It was not possible. We did know each other at all.

  “Milady…Rhiannon,” he stood in front of me, “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intent.”

  Really? “What was your intent then?” I asked, slightly sarcastic. Part of me wanted to run into his arms and I had to resist the impulse. I moved closer to the cave entrance.

  “Are you afraid of me?” He asked, somewhat humored by my obvious attempt to flee him.

  I shook my head. I was not afraid of him. I was afraid of myself. What I felt. What I wanted. How he made me feel and how I saw myself reflected in his eyes.

  I was terrified.

  “What’s the matter?” He asked softly. His hand picked up mine.

  “I…I can’t Bae,” I refused to look at him.

  “Are you afraid?” He asked again.

  My head snapped up and my eyes met his. Yes! I screamed. Yes, so afraid that I might lose myself if I stay. Afraid I might run into his arms and beg him to never leave me.

  “From where I stand, you are nothing but strong and beautiful,” he spoke with a firm but kind determination, “and every bit the princess you were born to be.”

  My eyes filled with tears. I leaned in and hugged him close, letting my cheek rest over his heart. A small sigh escaped his lips. He held me until I ran from his arms and out into the afternoon sunshine, never looking behind me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I entered the festivities as the next pair of contestants were starting to gallop toward each other. I sank into the high backed chair in the box next to Kayleigh.

  “Are you all right?” She glanced at me, waving her fan in an attempt to cool her glistening skin. Great. It was still hot.

  “Yes, I was overheated and needed to lie down for an hour. How is the tournament progressing?”

  “You did not miss a thing. It just started.”

  I realized at that moment, who the two knights were that charged toward one another. Kellen and Seasnan. They rode hard, leaning forward, their lances held in front of them. Smack! They each hit the other in the chest, splintering the wood of the lances. They reached their squires on the other side of the field and picked up new lances. Again, they galloped off, nearly unseating each other in the process. No points the second pass. The third pass they hit the center of each other’s shields.

  Tie.

  They moved on and another set of knights approached. Lord Baylor and a Guardian were announced. They charged, ramming their lances into the chest of the other opponent. The Guardian was knocked sideways and fell from his horse, unseated. The crowd roared. High points to Lord Baylor.

  Kellen won against another Guardian. Seasnan won against a noble. Tristan was defeated by Seasnan in the last ten opponents. Lord Baylor won again, against Seasnan, gaining the upper ground and hitting his shield in the center in the second pass, unseating Seasnan, who looked rather shocked.

  The crowd roared again. Two more rounds saw Kellen and Lord Baylor as victors. A noble defeated a Guardian. No one else was unseated. Higher points moved the knights along. Four more matches left the final two competitors remaining. Kellen and Lord Baylor.

  At opposite sides of the field they turned and faced each other. Lances in hand, steadied against their bodies, the horses charged. Crash! They hit their target dead center. Both men were awarded high points. They turned, charged, and hit, the center of both shields. High points. Neither man was unseated.

  New lances were placed in their hands. Each knight nodded to their squire. Ready.

  Charge!

  They rammed into their opponent. Precise hits in the dead center of each chest.

  Tie.

  They circled, new lances braced against their hips, and charged again. Three passes would not be sufficient. These men were the best, the most highly skilled, and the most battle tested. The crowd roared, chanting the names of Sir Kellen and Lord Baylor, until the noise was so loud I could hardly think.

  Boom! The lances shattered, both men hitting dead center, again. Four passes. Five. Six. Seven. Until ten passes had been completed. People were on their feet, shouting and jumping. The excitement was contagious. I stood, gripping the wooden railing in front of me, and anxiously awaited the next pass.

  My red scarf blew in the wind, billowing off the end of Lord Baylor’s lance. Each pass he carefully tied it to his new lance. This time I felt his gaze. He raised the lance, nodded to me, and leaned forward, charging. Something was different this time. I could feel his determination from the box. My knuckles turned white from clenching my fingers on the wood.

  Boom! The crack of the lance hit Kellen so hard it snapped in half. He was immediately unseated, landing flat on his back, and not moving. I gasped, my hands flying over my mouth.

  “Kellen!” Kayleigh called, fear in her voice.

  Lord Baylor raised the lance in my direction and lowered his head slightly as a bow. My knees felt weak. He had won. For me.

  God that was romantic and sexy.

  Kellen sat up slowly. Lord Baylor slid from his horse and walked to his side, offering his hand. For a few heart stopping seconds the crowd silenced, awaiting his reaction. Kellen grasped Baylor’s forearm and was hauled to his feet. The crowd exploded in thunderous applause.

  Both men’s names were chanted until Kellen’s eventually faded and only the chant of “Bay-lor, Bay-lor” could be heard from the stands. Kellen retreated to the left, taking his horse with him. He had been defeated. Lord Baylor approached, walking with pride, a victory lap in front of the people as he made his way slowly to the center box.

  He tossed a gold coin to the flower girl and plucked a bright red rose from her basket.

  “Rhiannon, you must go down to him. The crowd will expect you to award the victor,” she whispered.

  I nodded, tongue tied, afraid to speak. I might squeak like a little mouse.

  Baylor stopped a few feet from me. He removed his helmet, tossing it on the ground, and bowed, then knelt, holding the rose in his outstretched hand. I accepted it from him and he smiled, so handsome, so victorious, that it landed right in the center of my chest and spread into my heart.

  He raised his hands, the scarf draped across his palms, and awaited me. I took a few steps closer until I was right in front of him. I reached for the scarf and my hand trembled. He noticed.

  “Milady,” he whispered, “have no fear of me. I will not be rough with you.”

  The crowd did not hear him. The shouts and chants continued. He stood and gently wrapped the scarf around my neck, his eyes boring into mine. The crowd began a new chant.

  “Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.”

  It rang louder and louder until it was deafening. Lord Baylor smiled. His palms lay against my cheeks as he tilted my face up to his. “You must kiss me. That is the rules. The people will want to see you reward me.”

  I gulped. “All right.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and he leaned lower. Both of my hands met his chiseled chest. I could feel the racing beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The chainmail could not hide it. My own frantic pulse was thudding in my ears.

  My lips met his, softly at first, but then he deepened the kiss and moved closer. I felt my knees buckle a little beneath me. It was slight. The crowd did not notice but he did. His arm slid behind my back and held me upright as his large body seemed to wrap around mine.

  One hand remained on my cheek as he pulled away, caressing me, and he spoke the same word he said in the cave. An endearment of some sort, in a language I did not understand.

  “Tusa mo chéadsearc.”

  I could only stare back into his eyes. I was mesmerized. Swept literally right off my feet. He was handsome. Romantic. Mysterious. And intoxicatingly dangerous.

  The crowd went wild, chanting his name. His prowess and skill, both on the battlefield and off, would be the topic of discussion for many months to come. I heard the sigh of maidens and the new gossip already spreading. Bets were already b
eing made regarding a courtship with the princess.

  Reluctantly he backed away, dropping his hands, and turned to the crowd, victorious. They rose to their feet as he bowed. I clapped along with them, smiling, as he turned to me and winked.

  Back in the tents, under the pavilion, the night’s festivities and entertainment began. Ralen sat with his lute, singing songs and telling tales, enthralling the group during dinner. Again, Baylor sat to my right and Kellen to my left. I no longer felt the hostility of the two men but Kellen was distant. He smiled and held my hand under the table but his eyes were guarded.

  Soon the dancing began. Tables were cleared and a space in the center opened for the first dance. It was my cue. I was to invite the victor, the champion of the joust, to dance with me.

  I stood, holding out my hand. “Lord Baylor, would you dance with me?”

  His grin split his face. “Of course milady. You show me great honor.”

  He placed my hand on his arm and we approached the floor. The music began. With one hand at my waist and the other gripping my fingers, he twirled me around the floor as applause broke out around us.

  “The people are enamored with you. They love you more with every passing day,” his voice was low and sweet, floating down around me, “you bring happiness back to them.”

  “I do not understand why but I am glad. I love it here. I wish I could stay forever,” I admitted.

  “You will. One day, you will come back and never leave.” He smiled and looked down into my eyes. “One day you will have everything your heart desires.”

  Breathlessly I responded to him. “What do you know of my heart?”

  “Oh much, milady, much more than you realize. You see, I can look into your eyes and glimpse it, deep inside, and I know what your heart longs for. I know what you need,” he was so certain that I did not argue with him. “I know your desires, your wishes, and I intend to prove it to you.”

  “I suppose you think you can provide everything I want,” I voiced my thoughts aloud, knowing how he would answer.

  “Of course, but soon…you will know it too.”

  His eyes did not waver, did not blink, but held mine steadily. I took a shaky breath. “Why do you do this? Why do you seek to pull me in?”