The Harbinger (A Fight for Light Novel Book 2) Read online

  He knew what I meant. “Someday I will tell you everything. Someday I will come to you, and you will be ready. One day, everything will be right as it should be,” his finger brushed my cheek, “and one day your heart will lead you straight to mine.”

  I opened my mouth in shock and took a step back, shaking my head. “No.”

  He smiled, and just a hint of a hard edge entered his eyes. “You will know it, if you do not already.”

  His arms encircled me again and he spun me around the room. In silence we finished the song and he retreated as Kellen claimed the next dance. My thoughts were chaotic, wild, confused, and uncertain.

  Baylor watched from a corner of the room the entire night. Several more times we danced, his arms holding me tighter with every pass on the floor, but he never voiced much of anything else. I never saw him dance with anyone else but me. He was approached and congratulated often. But I was the only one he focused on. It made me tremble.

  His marked attention was noticed by everyone. Nothing tempted him. Nothing lured him away from the pointed dark stare that followed me all night long.

  At long last the night grew late.

  I entered the inn, exhausted, with barely enough coherency to undress and climb into bed. I felt Kellen lay next to me but I was so tired I could not wake up. Sometime in the middle of the night, in the wee hours of early morn, I woke up with a start. A noise of some sort had grabbed my attention, even in deep sleep, and roused me.

  I was alone.

  Kellen was not in the room. A scraping sound outside my door made me slide out of bed slowly. Someone was rattling my door knob, trying to open it. I threw my robe around me and belted it at my waist. Another rattle. I backed away, walking quickly to the window.

  The door knob rattled again and then a slam as someone hurtled against it. I stifled a scream. Turning I threw open the window, only to notice the three floor drop to the ground. I would never survive it. I spun as someone hit the door again and the wood began to splinter.

  Where was Kellen?!

  “Rhiannon!” Someone behind me whispered.

  Lord Baylor.

  “Oh God, someone is breaking in!” I told him trembling.

  “Yes, I know, that is why I am here.” He rushed to me through the window and pulled me against his side. “We will have to fight our way downstairs. There’s no way I can get you safely out through that window.” How the heck did he get in here then?

  “What do they want? Who is it?” I clung to him, grabbing his shirt in my hand.

  “I don’t know but I will protect you, I swear it. Stay close to me.”

  “Not a problem,” I told him, attempting to find some humor in this situation but he frowned.

  A long broadsword was in his hand. “We stand our ground until they break down the door. Then we fight our way through, until we reach the bottom floor. You get a chance, you run. Got it?”

  I shook my head. “No way. I’m not leaving your side.”

  “Rhiannon,” he said my name in exasperation, “what am I going to do with you?”

  “Keep me safe, alive, and unharmed,” I responded immediately. “And I know you will.”

  He hugged me close. “Damn straight I will.”

  I felt his kiss on the top of my head. “Give me a weapon.”

  “No way,” he said automatically.

  “I have to be able to defend myself. What if something happens to you? What if we get separated?” I demanded.

  The door splintered again and nearly opened. The commotion on the other side became louder.

  “All right. Here, take this,” he shoved a smaller sword into my hand with a curved guard and a starfish shaped pommel. “Please be careful. Stitches are painful.”

  I gripped the hilt, amazed at the weight. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Hold it like this,” he moved my hands so I gripped it more securely. “Now, feel the balance. Keep your feet planted shoulder width apart. Hit with all of your strength with the fuller part of the blade.”

  I think he would have said more but the door burst open, and several men, mercenaries from the look of them, hired thugs, entered the room. Baylor rushed forward and swung his sword, fighting the first few men. He easily defeated them but more men pushed their way through.

  Two managed to get past his defenses and came for me. I raised the sword, prepared to fight. They actually laughed at me.

  Incensed, I swung the sword and circled it in an arc, dropping it onto the shoulder of the first man. He collapsed in shock, gripping his wound, blood running down the length of his arm. His companion swung the sword he was carrying, almost splitting me in two, but I managed to bring my sword around in time to block the hit.

  “Bae!” I yelled. “Help!”

  He punched the face of the guy in front of him and spun, eyes widening as I blocked another hit.

  “I’m coming!”

  One of the mercenaries caught me by surprise and shoved into me, knocking me off balance. I tumbled to the floor as the sword clattered to the ground several feet away. I scrambled for it, only to be caught by my hair. I yelped in pain, trying to grab his hands and pull him from my hair, as the side of my head met the stone wall. Lights danced in front of my eyes.

  I heard a roar of outrage as Baylor’s sword ran through the man who had hurt me. He swung the blade in an arc and sliced into another man, raising his booted foot and kicking another back, where he fell out the window and to the ground below. A few minutes later the room was strewn with bodies and he was hauling me up to my feet.

  “Are you all right?” He sounded anxious.

  “I, I think so,” I stuttered, wincing as I pulled my hand away from my head and it was covered in blood. I stared at my hand and then Baylor, blinking. Then I started to fall.

  He caught me. “Sweetheart you have to walk beside me. I can’t fight any more men if I’m carrying you.”

  “Bae…” I tried to walk but collapsed against him. I heard him curse under his breath. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” he answered sincerely, picking me up and bolting through the door way.

  More men gathered on the stairs and blocked our path. I was close to losing consciousness. My head rolled and I groaned.

  “Stay with me, Rhiannon, stay with me,” he turned and nuzzled my cheek.

  I heard the clashing of swords and some of his men call out to him. Moments later we exited the inn and I felt Baylor pass me to someone else as he mounted a horse. Seconds later I was passed back to him, snug in his arms, as the sound of multiple horses galloping across the ground faded into the back ground, and I leaned against Baylor, unable to stay awake any longer.

  “Rhiannon!”

  It was Kellen’s voice I heard as I faded out. I could only wonder, as my eyes closed, why he had not been there, and why Baylor seemed to always be at the right place at the right time, ever since the tournament started…

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Rhiannon, please wake up,” I felt the pressure of a hand against my cheek.

  I moaned. My head was aching. “Mmmm.”

  “Milady, Rhiannon…can you hear me?” Baylor’s strained voice penetrated the darkness as I came fully back into consciousness.

  “Bae?” I called, reaching my hand out.

  He took it, squeezing it lightly. “I’m here. How are you feeling?”

  I blinked, my eyes feeling heavy. “Where am I?”

  “A safe location. No one will harm you. There are armed guards at every entrance and exit, fifty of my best men posted across the property. Fifty more hidden in the forest close by. You are no longer in danger,” he promised.

  “That’s not a full answer,” I told him looking at his face for the first time. “I meant location.”

  He grinned. “I would tell you but then I would have to keep you here indefinitely.”

  I arched an eyebrow and tried to sit up. Sudden vertigo forced me to lie back down.

  �
�I guess I’m hurt worse than I thought,” I admitted, groaning at the pain.

  The smile on his face vanished. “Yes, a mild concussion. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Why? You did not bang my head against a stone wall.”

  “Yes, but I promised to keep you safe and unharmed and I failed,” his voice faltered slightly and he looked away.

  “Baylor, it was not your fault. We were overrun. There was at least thirty men rushing us,” I pointed out, “and you fought them all bravely, alone.”

  He would not look at me. “Bae, please.”

  “I think you need some nourishment. I’ll have some broth brought up to you,” he refused to acknowledge my words.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, forcing him to look into my eyes. “What is the matter?”

  He seemed sad. “I hesitate to say or do too much Rhiannon. I do not want to alarm or confuse you.”

  “I have no idea what that means,” I replied, frustrated.

  “You will. I promise when I can explain I will,” he leaned his forehead against mine. “Will you trust me?”

  I sighed. “All right.”

  There was something compelling about Baylor, more than a connection, much more, like we had a destiny together. It was strange but I felt it so strong that I could not let it go.

  He was watching me. “I wish the circumstances for bringing you here were different. Perhaps someday I will explain the meaning behind this place but today I only want to keep you safe so you can heal.”

  “Bae,” I raised my finger to smooth across his worried brow, “I feel it, whatever this connection is between us, however we are linked, I feel it the same as you.”

  He seemed shocked. “I knew you were perceptive but…I had not counted on you figuring it out so soon.”

  “Ha,” I scoffed, “not quite but I am getting there. Be patient with me.”

  “Always, my angel,” he raised my hand and brushed his lips across the top. “Rest now. I will return soon.”

  Baylor let me rest and gave me broth, keeping me hydrated and rested for the next forty eight hours. Finally I was well enough for a bath. I soaked in the tub for an hour and then dressed in a simple white blouse, tan riding pants, and knee length black boots. A black leather corset style vest was laced around my waist. I found an extra strip and tied my hair back loosely letting it fall down my back.

  A trunk of clothes had miraculously arrived in my room. I didn’t ask but I knew Baylor had made it available for my use. It was full of gowns, shoes, day dresses, riding habits, undergarments, and a couple of cloaks. One was a navy blue and the other a rich ebony. I threw the black one over my arm.

  Another smaller trunk held crowns and tiaras, leather riding gloves in various colors, a few cases of jewels, and several nice comb and brush sets. Hair combs, so beautiful I could hardly believe they were included, lie at the bottom. Even a few silky shawls. Such luxury.

  It made me think of the pink packages tied with white ribbons from my birthday. The shawl with the roses, the expensive perfume set, and the silver bejeweled brush and comb gifts. No, it could not be possible. Was Baylor the one who purchased those gifts for me?

  No way…

  I exited the bedroom and nearly ran into Baylor who was pacing the hall. His eyes widened when he saw me and he smiled, offering his arm. “Hungry?”

  “Famished,” I placed my hand on him and followed his lead down a wide marble staircase.

  This home was magnificent. Marble floors and staircase, fleur de Lis, tapestries, fresh flowers in antique vases, and rich colors in the décor. Opulent and luxuriant it spoke of wealth and prominence. A large crystal chandelier hung in the main foyer. We passed beneath it as we entered a large dining hall.

  After the meal I turned to Baylor. “I want to practice with the sword today.”

  He grinned widely. “Is that the reason for the pants today?”

  “Of course,” I replied, standing and walking outside.

  He hurried and grabbed my hand, pulling me along until we stood with a bunch of wooden men in a field with bodies of stuffed straw. A training area.

  Baylor passed the same sword into my hand as before. “This is a fine sword. It has good balance, light weight compared to a broadsword, and it’s tapered with precise grooves in the fuller to maximize damage to your opponent. Now, stand like this,” his hands were on my waist.

  I planted my feet shoulder width apart. “Like this?”

  “Yes,” he answered, “Hold the hilt with a firm grip. Balance your weight equally with the sword. Strike, using the force of your body, and then deflect. Watch me.”

  He put me through the basic motions. I was starting to get it but not quite. Baylor stood behind me and molded his body to mine, his front to my back, taking my hand and guiding the sword. The heat of his close proximity scorched my back, sinking through the material of our clothes, and I felt my breath start to accelerate.

  We moved like a delicate and beautiful dance. Our bodies were seamless, moving in harmony, following the rhythm he set. One of his hands was splayed across my stomach, over my abdominal muscles, guiding me through the steps, as his arm swung and dipped, and continued the dance of parry, thrust, and strike.

  It was the most sensual thing I had ever done in my life. Exotic. Beautiful. Erotic. And I wanted to see his face. I wanted to know if he felt what I did. If his body molded so perfectly with mine made him want to kiss me and feel my lips because I desperately wanted exactly that.

  We continued the dance and movement, longer than we needed, much longer. And then I knew. Baylor didn’t want to end it either. He wanted to keep his body close to mine. His hand on my stomach. His fingers closed over mine. His frame molded so close that we became one person instead of two.

  My heart was racing so fast that I could hardly control my rate of breathing. It was matching his, beat for beat. He suddenly spun me around, his arm locked behind my back. For a few brief seconds I saw the intense attraction and desire in his eyes, liquid ebony orbs of endless heat, and then his lips crushed down on mine.

  I felt alive.

  Exhilarated.

  My arms wound around his neck. We stumbled and fell back against a tree. He never lifted his lips from mine. Picking me up slightly, so I rested against his chest, he continued to kiss me. His arms locked beneath my backside, one hand inching higher to capture the back of my head.

  I have never been kissed like that.

  Never.

  Not Kellen. Not the other kisses Baylor gave me.

  And I was amazed, awestruck, and completely overwhelmed. His kiss was raw sensuality and infinite tenderness all in one.

  Wow.

  Baylor pulled back. His forehead rested against mine as he caught his breath. “Princess…I hope I am the only man who gets to kiss you like this.”

  “You are Bae,” I assured him, “I never knew until this moment a kiss could be this…amazing.”

  He laughed lightly. “Promise me you will not let another kiss you the way I do. Promise me Rhiannon, please…”

  His voice was pleading. “Bae…I…” I had no idea what to say. How did I respond?

  “You love another,” he answered for me. A hardness entered his voice and he leaned back.

  “I told you I did,” I whispered.

  “Does he hold you like this? Kiss you like this?” He kissed me again until I felt weak in his embrace. “Does he make you feel like I do?”

  I could not answer because the truth was no, he had not. But maybe he held back. Kellen was a mystery. One I was still figuring out.

  “Not really,” I admitted.

  “Then consider what I am saying. Consider me, Rhiannon. Leave your options open. Think of me before you make a final choice. That’s all I ask,” he pleaded again, his eyes locking with mine. “Will you do that?”

  I nodded. I could not answer for a moment. “Yes, Bae.”

  He looked relieved. “We could have a love that surpasses everything. Give
it a chance Rhiannon.”

  I wanted to believe him. I wanted that kind of love, the all-consuming passion, the need and desire that burned into flame, the merging of two souls into one. I craved it.

  “I don’t know,” I buried my head in his neck. A part of me was afraid.

  “You don’t have to make any decisions now or anytime soon. I’m only asking you to keep your options open. To keep me here,” he pointed to my heart, “and hold me close enough to give me a chance to prove I am right.”

  “Oh Bae,” I answered, “I will try.”

  “Good,” he whispered and then he held me close, hugging me for long minutes and not letting me go.

  I lay my head against his chest as his fingers intertwined with mine. Careful, my conscience, screamed, you are falling for another man. But I could not help it. I felt Baylor, deep inside my soul, and something, that special crazy something, held us together like an invisible thread.

  Not much later we were back to practicing. He showed me the vulnerable spots on a man and any set of armor. I knew where to hit to inflict a death blow and to immobilize an attacker. He pointed to the throat, the groin, and the armpit. I understood where to strike and how hard.

  His teaching was invaluable. I was not a weakling any longer. If I needed to defend myself again, I could do it. The next time the assassins came I would be ready.

  Later that night, unable to sleep, I snuck out and threw the black cloak over my shoulders. Picking up the sword I practiced in the moonlight. Alone. For the first time I felt an inner strength and sense of accomplishment. I felt empowered.

  There was only one man to thank for that.

  Behind me I heard the snap of several branches and twigs. Someone approached. I kept my body still, awaiting whoever it was to strike. At precisely the right moment I spun, swinging the sword in a wide arc and meeting the steel of a broadsword. The clang reverberated through the night.

  “Good,” Baylor told me, “again.”

  I flipped the cloak behind me, the soft fabric billowing in the night breeze. I advanced, thrusting the blade, and attacking. Spinning, he caught my strike and parried. The clash of steel met again and again. Advance and attack, parry and thrust, block, deflect, and all over again.