The Warrior's Heart Page 9

  What he hadn’t expected was her sitting atop a horse, chin set determinedly, her hair unbound and uncovered, dressed in clothes that were clearly belonging to one of his men. Leather wrapped from the top of her boots to her knees over a pair of leggings and a tunic, tied about the waist reached to her knees. Her sword and sheath swung from the leather belt and he saw her dagger tucked inside the belt as well. She looked ready for battle.

  “Prinţesă,” he kept his voice low and her gaze slanted at him.

  “My name is Jolan,” she corrected sharply as Geld rode past them. She kicked her horse to a faster pace so she could ride beside the captain. “Geld, send one of your men ahead of us to Drago. I wish the count to know I mean to be wed as soon as we arrive. I’ll need appropriate clothing readied and require twelve flower head wreaths made for the occasion.”

  “Twelve?” Geld echoed.

  “Once we are wed and our marriage consummated, I shall want you to dispatch at least a dozen of your men to hunt down a Mongol each. Their heads will be piked at the gates of Drago, adorned with my wreaths, a clear message that not only should they fear the count but his new bride.” She looked at Geld. “Can you see to that?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Count Dragomir suspects a meek and gentle bride. He shall be delighted to discover the change in you. Adolf!” he called over his shoulder and one of his men rode forward immediately. Viktor listened as Geld relayed Jolan’s instructions with a frown then watched Adolf kick his horse forward into a gallop to do as he was commanded.

  His attention returned to the back of Jolan’s head. Did she think that Viktor’s plan, the one she knew of, would fail and had accepted her fate in becoming Dragomir’s wife? That was the only conclusion Viktor could come to and it filled him with anger. She was preparing herself to open her legs for the demon she had feared with no inclination to fight at all.

  She allowed her horse to fall back beside Koen close to midday. “I wish to stop and water the horses. I must stretch my legs if we are to ride until dark.” Viktor lifted a hand for the others to stop. He slid from Koen and noticed she did not dismount. Instead, she looked at him and waited. When he stepped closer, she leant forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. Lifting her from the horse he set her to the ground gently then stared at her when she waved for him.

  “I would revive myself at the river. Though I doubt more trouble would find me, Tibor wished you to remain at my side until I am delivered to Count Dragomir, and so you shall.” She walked spine straight towards the trees expecting him to follow.

  “She is changed.” Alger mumbled, his voice edged with sadness. Viktor didn’t respond, striding forward to follow Jolan. He watched her as she knelt at the water and splashed its coolness on to her face, then stepped forward beside her.

  “I know you are angry at me, Prinţesă, but you must understand that my father did not deserve the death he met …”

  “Any more than I deserve to be forced to wed,” she interrupted, “any more than Tibor deserved the fate that found him. Had I found escape from this union, Tibor would live still. There is nothing you can say to me to make that untrue. All you can do now is what you go to Drago to do.”

  She turned without allowing him to answer. “Once the horses are tended, I want to push on. Geld has told me that if we ride until it becomes dark each day we will reach Drago in three days instead of four. I shall see the gates of Drago in three days.”

  * * * *

  Mircea stared at the woman that stood in front of him. “Halflings?”

  “Five of them.” Cloelia’s head bobbed up and down.

  He fisted his fingers. Kelemen. The bastards meant to stroll right through his gates! Damn Ewan Lovasz and damn Cloelia!

  “You left her.”

  “The Mongols were everywhere. I had no choice. It doesn’t matter. She is ruined. The Halfling guard has lain with her,” Cloelia told him. Fury filled Mircea so quickly that his fangs pushed from his gums instantly. Viktor Kelemen meant to take everything from him!

  “I trusted you, Cloelia. She was meant to be mine.” He saw the fear in the old woman’s face as her gaze dropped to his fangs. “You betrayed me.”

  “I have not! It was that guard!”

  “You were to keep her clean for me. Not only did you fail but you led my enemies to me. That Halfling is no guard. He is Dieter Kelemen’s eldest and he does not bring me a wife but means to bring a battle. You shouldn’t have left her. You should have brought her with you.” He advanced and she screeched. Whirling, she tried to run but he overtook her at the door and sank his teeth. He drank until he felt her body weaken, then thrust her away from him. She fell in a heap to the floor and he stood over her until he saw the life leave her eyes.

  “Count Dragomir! One of our men approaches the gates!” A shout vibrated from outside the walls. Stepping over Cloelia, he swept into the courtyard. It could not be Geld. He was not due for another three days and unlike Cloelia, Geld would not return without his bride. He raised a hand when he saw it was Adolf and the gates were opened.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I bring a message under Geld’s command.” Adolf dismounted and smiled as he walked forward. “And from your bride.”

  * * * *

  Viktor called for break with the sun directly above them. “Water the horses and relieve yourselves. We shall eat now for we will not stop and ride on into the night to reach Drago before morning.” Viktor swept Jolan from her horse and motioned towards the trees. As she’d done for the past three days, she walked ahead of him. He glanced back at Alger and inclined his head. Alger returned the gesture so Viktor hurried forward and stood next to her as he’d done before while she wet her face. When she stood, he handed her a piece of dried meat and waited while she ate it quickly. When she’d finished, he expected her to turn and head back to the road. Instead she touched his arm.

  “After today, we may not have a chance to speak again.” She licked her lips. “By morning you will be engaged in a battle I fear you will lose. I wish you to know, that if you do fail, I will not. Count Dragomir will meet his death the day of my arrival regardless.”

  Viktor frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “If my wishes are carried out, by midday I will be wed and taken to his marriage bed. When he crawls atop me, I shall bury my dagger into his throat and twist it as Alger instructed. He may live long enough to end my life but not long enough to save his own.”

  Viktor reached for her shoulders. “By the Gods, you would give your life to end his?”

  “I shall do it for Tibor, for Ishild, for your father. Those we loved are dead because of him.” Her eyes welled.

  His chest tightened. She had changed but not as he had expected. She’d lost someone she loved and her heart had become that of a warrior.

  “You will not perish, Prinţesă,” he said softly.

  “If he does not kill me, I will not make it to the gates before one of the others do. But they will do with the whole of Drago burning down around them. I broke open your pain with my words before but I did not understand that pain. Until Tibor died, I had never lost someone I loved. ” She lifted her face. “So kiss me, Viktor, so that if you do perish and I must go to his bed, it will be with your breath upon my lips, so I will have the taste and scent of you on me when I tell him that the sons of Dieter Kelemen await his soul with their father.”

  Viktor could only stare at her, his chest filling with warmth. He’d thought the sight of bloodshed had deadened her as it would have some, had turned her cold to emotion. He saw now, gazing into her large eyes, that instead it had opened her to a pain he would have spared her if he could and filled her with a need matching his own, a need for justice so that those they loved did not perish for nothing.

  “If you do not kiss her, brother, I will.” Alger’s voice cracked from behind them.

  Viktor did not release her gaze. “It is done?”

  “It is.” Alger cleared his throat. “Now kiss
the woman before I take her from you and make her my wife.” Viktor grunted as he lifting his hands to cradle her face. He kissed her softly, gently, until he felt her tears against his own cheeks.

  “Do not weep, Prinţesă. Things have changed since we departed Maethi and as with any plan of revenge, we must be ready to change it as needed.” He spoke against her lips. “It is needed now and you will not go to Drago tomorrow.”

  She leant back, a small smile on her face despite her tears. “Geld will not allow you to turn back when we are this close.”

  “Geld is dead,” Viktor saw the shock fill her eyes, “as are the other two that rode with him. We do not go now to Drago. We go to Kelemen.”

  She took a step backwards, shaking her head. “No, we go to Drago. Dragomir must be killed.”

  “He will be. But not tomorrow.”

  He watched her whirl and run through the trees. At the road, he found her staring at the three lifeless bodies that his brothers were dragging to the trees.

  “No. No. No.” Her hands shook. “No! Dragomir won’t let us through the gates without him! What have you done?” She faced Viktor, her eyes flashing angrily. “I have to kill him. I have to!”

  “Cloelia, if she is as I think she is, has already told him of us. He will know it is Kelemens that come for him. It would not work unless we took him by surprise.” Viktor tried to explain but she looked frantic. “We can draw him out, make him come to us. We still have the advantage.”

  “I can still kill him. I can make it look as if I escaped. I can go to him and if I am bloodied, he will believe me!” She drew her dagger as if she meant to cut upon herself. Viktor strode forward and swiped the weapon from her.

  “He will come for you, Jolan. We will kill him when he does.” He shook her and finally her gaze lifted, clearing through her madness.

  “I wanted it to be over,” she whispered.

  “He will come to me. I have something he’s waited twenty years to have, something his crone groomed just for him. He will come to me, Jolan, and I will be waiting for him.” Viktor wanted her to understand.

  “And if you fail, he will punish Maethi.”

  “If I fail, he’ll meet an army at Maethi. My men are preparing now to ride to your home and they will defend it with their lives. Clodovech and Gerold will lead them. ” He waved a hand at those already mounting. She looked at them then back to Viktor.

  “But he will come to Kelemen?”

  “He will come. You spoke his weakness yourself. He fears having something taken from him that he believes is his.” Viktor nodded and felt the shaking ease from her arms. She took a breath. Then another.

  “Then let us go to Kelemen, but this is the last time I will wait for his death,” she warned. Viktor nodded and lifted her to her horse. They changed their course from east to north, the four of them riding at a much faster pace than before. Outside of Brasov their ride ended abruptly when a horde of Mongols blocked the road. Instantly, Jolan drew her sword and Viktor smiled as he urged Koen next to her horse. Reaching out, he placed his hand on hers and lowered her weapon.

  “Not this time, Prinţesă, though your eagerness to engage makes me heavy for you.” He kicked Koen forward as the one who led the horde did the same.

  “You are Viktor Kelemen?” The Mongol leader’s dark eyes narrowed as he looked him over then behind him at those that waited behind. “It is a small band to have demolished so many of mine.”

  “We have a bit of an advantage, I’m afraid.”

  “I was told you are both beasts and men.”

  “You were not misinformed.”

  The Mongol glanced back at those he led. “Why did you use one of mine to bring me here?”

  Viktor leant forward on Koen. “Though we are different, we now find ourselves with the same enemy. Count Dragomir. I believe we can come to an agreement that would satisfy both of us.”

  Those eyes narrowed. “Why would I agree to anything?”

  “There are but two cities you’ve been unsuccessful at destroying. Mine, of which you will continue to fail,” Viktor straightened, “and Drago. Drago is yours to do with as you wish if you ally with me and defend another from his army.”

  “I have lost many men to his. They are not men.”

  “They can be killed.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “You will find the heads of three of them on the road to Maethi where two of my kind and my own men await your arrival. Your swords are no good unless you behead the enemy. By nightfall tomorrow one of Dragomir’s armies will march to Maethi, another will depart for Kelemen. I mean for you to defend Maethi before you come back and raid Drago. While you do that, I will be killing Dragomir.”

  “What is to stop me from waiting until the two are well on their way and taking Drago instead?”

  Viktor smiled. “Because you have not known fear in battle until you have an army of angry wolves coming at you.”

  The Mongol studied him for several long moments before inclining his head. “Your terms are acceptable.”

  “You know my name. I will know the one that destroys Drago.”

  “Mongke Burilgi.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jolan stepped through the door of Kelemen Castle, thankful at long last to be out of the rain. Viktor strode ahead of her and opened his arms to the girl that squealed and raced to him. She watched him embrace her, lifting her off her feet while Alger and Heinrich stepped past her to join the reunion.

  “I thought you would never return!” the girl exclaimed after hugging each of them.

  “How could we keep away from you, Kata?” Alger patted her head.

  “Where are Clodovech and Gerold?” She looked past them and stopped, her gaze resting on Jolan.

  “They shall join us later.” Viktor turned and waved for Jolan to come forward. “Come and meet my only sister, Katarin.” Jolan smiled at the girl as she stepped forward. There was little resemblance for Katarin was petite, her hair much darker, and her complexion far lighter than that of her brothers.

  “You come back to me in one piece I see.”

  Jolan turned to see a woman on the stone stairwell, an older version of Katarin. The woman’s dark hair parted only once at her right temple for a streak of grey, the only hint of her age. It was her voice that was most matured, full bodied yet feminine, soft but of strength.

  “We all are whole.” Viktor nodded.

  “Then Mircea Dragomir is dead?” She folded her arms beneath her bosom and descended the stairs. “I know he is not for I can see in your eyes you’ve not been sated. Why do you return if he lives?”

  “Events we could not control thwarted our plan to enter Drago.” Viktor explained. “So instead we will bring him to us.”

  Jolan watched the woman move across the floor to Viktor. She did not even seem to step but rather glide. She held out her hands and Viktor took them instantly, her gaze then flicking to Jolan.

  “You took his woman.”

  “I did.”

  “You were always a clever boy.” She smiled then, those full lips pulling back to reveal her white teeth. “Alger, come to me boy, you are thinner.” Alger instantly went to her and embraced her roughly. Heinrich did the same.

  They stepped aside when she craned her neck to look at Jolan. “This is the one he chose to wed? She is very small but then it should not surprise me that he would choose someone so easy to overpower.”

  Jolan lifted her chin. “One cannot overpower another with a blade in their gullet.”

  The woman’s eyes lightened and she inclined her head. “One cannot. Kata, bring a warm blanket before she shivers right out of her clothes. And bring her something dry to wear.” She waved her hand for Jolan to move closer to the hearth which she did gratefully.

  “You are not bound so I can only assume that you come willingly with one of Dieter’s sons.” She indicated for Jolan to sit in the chair closest the hearth and settled across from her in another. “Shall I guess which one?
” Her gaze slid to Viktor and she made a tsk sound against her teeth.

  “Why do you assume it was I?” Viktor removed his cloak before settling into one of the larger chairs.

  “Heinrich only has eyes for his wife and Alger should not care for the look of a woman to bed her.” She chuckled. “You, Viktor, would not be able to resist one so pretty however.”

  “You cut me, Ilona.” Viktor chuckled.

  Jolan stared at the woman across from her. This was Ilona? She had imagined a woman of large build, one who looked as solid as the castle they occupied. But she was thin and feminine, almost seeming delicate. She smiled at Katarin who returned with dry clothes and a blanket. Jolan accepted them and thanked her.

  “Let us go, daughter, and bring them food. If we do not, Alger shall perish before Dragomir’s arrival.” Ilona rose and reached for Katarin’s hand. “Alger, Heinrich, come. I wish to know the details of this plan…unless she wishes more than Viktor’s assistance.” The two followed her as she swept across the room and through a door, leaving Viktor and Jolan alone.

  “More?” Jolan echoed.

  He shrugged. “She knows me and my brothers well. There have been women in the past that more than one of us desired.”

  Jolan stared at him as heat rushed to her cheeks. He meant that they’d shared a woman before. She looked away from him, embarrassed by the sudden images that found her thoughts of Viktor and Alger touching her. She began to undress but then stilled when Viktor rose and walked towards her. She looked at him when he reached forward and began to peel away her clothes.

  “I wish to continue training with the sword while we wait to kill Dragomir. I did poorly with it against the Mongols.” She watched him kneel and began unwinding the leather from around her legs. “When I return to Maethi I will teach my mother. She is weaker than I was when you first arrived.”